"No, you don't," I hiss. Rage floods my system, followed by unfettered fear. I push all of it down, down, down, forcing my heartrate to slow and my breaths to remain as even as possible. I can’t have a meltdown. Not when my man needs me. We wouldn’t be much of a dream team if I flaked out the moment things got tough.
I don't have time to yell through his earpiece. My eyes dart to the auxiliary controls. There’s a high-intensity, industrial-grade spotlight attached to the roof of the cabin—an old security feature that I imagine rarely gets used anymore. I punch in a series of swift key commands, aiming the coordinates manually, and slam the enter key.
BOOM.
A blinding, stadium-level beam of white light cuts through the dark forest, shining right on the man sneaking up. The sudden, explosive brightness completely startles him, throwinghim off balance and drawing the panicked attention of his remaining accomplices.
The split-second distraction is all Miller needs. Alerted by the light, he delivers a brutal pistol whip to the guy he’s holding, likely fracturing his jaw, swings his SIG Sauer around, and fires two perfectly placed shots right into the chest of the guy under my spotlight.
The remaining attackers scatter into the dark, completely broken. I scan the perimeter, seeing several bodies scattered motionless on the ground. My hands are shaking, but I don't feel a single shred of fear or remorse.
Looking at the monitor at Miller, who is breathing heavily, his chest heaving, looking like a ruthless god of war… I’m bursting with the desperate, aching need for this beast to come inside and claim me.
My heart is hammering against my ribs, a wild, rhythmic drumbeat that mirrors the fading echoes of gunfire outside. I’m still standing at the terminal, my fingers hovering over the keys, but the digital battlefield is quiet now. My skin feels electric, vibrating with the residual surge of adrenaline that set every nerve ending on fire while I watched Miller dismantle those men through the camera feed.
It was terrifying, yes, but God, it was exhilarating. Watching him move, that lethal, calculated precision as he protected our space... it did something to me. It awakened a hunger that has nothing to do with survival and everything to do with the man who just fought for it. The air in the cabin feels thin, charged with the scent of gunpowder and the raw, dangerous energy still radiating off of him, even through the screen.
I let out a long breath, allowing some of the tension to drain from my shoulders and neck. My knees tremble slightly as the fight-or-flight high begins to ebb, replaced by a deep, heavy ache in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t want to be the tech-nerd behind the screen anymore. I don’t want to be the one observing. I need to be the one he focuses on. I need his hands, not for weapons, but on me. I need him to stop being the machine and start being the man who is obsessed with nothing but claiming every inch of my skin, reminding me, and himself, that we both survived this together.
11
MILLER
The metallic tang of copper and gunsmoke hangs heavy in the night air as I step back inside the safe house, locking the reinforced door behind me. I’m wired, my muscles trembling with residual combat adrenaline, my mind still calculating threats.
But the second the deadbolt clicks, a soft, curvy, strawberry blonde bullet launches itself into my chest. My North Star. Her scent fills my lungs, pulling me back from the edge and grounding me right here in this moment.
Rya runs straight into my arms, slamming her lush body against mine. Her legs instantly wrap around my hips, and her small hands grip my hair, pulling my mouth down to hers in a frantic, desperate kiss. She’s shaking, but it’s not from terror. Jesus, she needs me as much as I need her. I can fuckingsmellthe raw, unadulterated need coming off of her in waves.
"Rya... baby," I pant against her lips, trying to pull back just an inch. "I'm covered in sweat and dirt. I should get cleaned up?—"
"No," she shakes her head fiercely, her beautiful brown eyes flashing behind her glasses with a possessiveness that rivals my own. "Don't you dare leave me. I love you just like this, Miller. Ilove the beast that just fought for me. I need all of you. I need itnow."
Her demand ignites a fire in my veins as a guttural grunt tears from my throat. Any shred of my remaining control snaps. In one quick, fluid motion, I set her down and spin her around, so her back is pressed against my front and we're staring into the electric fireplace.
I nibble at her exposed shoulder, then press kisses up her neck and suck on her earlobe. “Strip for me, Rya,” I murmur, my voice low and scratchy. Her breath hitches, and she tips her head back, tempting me to bite her creamy throat and leave my mark. I nuzzle into her warm skin and scrape my teeth over her pulse point, groaning when she whimpers so sweetly for me. I suck on her sweet flesh, and nip her skin before kissing away the sting.
Rya nearly stumbles backward when I lean away from her just long enough to shed my tactical gear and clothes. I steady her with a hand on her hip, and help her peel the rest of her clothes off. She tries spinning around in my arms, but I hold her in place, running my hands up and down her ample curves.
I palm her breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh and pinching her nipples. Rya gasps and presses her ass into my solid erection, nestling it between her cheeks. A growl rumbles through my chest as I rub against her. Jesus, I love feeling her like this, skin against skin, both of us desperate, achy, on edge, yet wanting to draw out the sweet torture even longer.
One of my hands slides down her torso, playing with the soft curls covering her mound. A muffled, pinched moan escapes her mouth as I run my fingers up and down her slit, gathering her juices and pulling them up toward her sensitive little button.
“You’re soaking wet, baby girl. Does it hurt?”
“So bad,” she moans, nodding her head.
Rya takes in deep breath after deep breath, but it only takes a few moments for her breathing to become shallower, faster, asI keep stroking her pussy in tight circles. Her back arches and I lay my free arm over her breasts, crushing them and holding her close against my chest while blurring my fingers over her clit.
Rya trembles at my touch. I know she’s close, she’s right there, I can feel her climax rattling through her bones. Right before she comes, I thrust two fingers inside of her tight hole and grind my heel down on her clit.
“I…” She exhales on a ragged breath. “I think...oh, God, that feels so good. Miller…”
I rock my hips, rubbing my cock against her ass, and sink my teeth into her shoulder, causing her orgasm to bear down on her and overwhelm her completely. I continue pumping my fingers in and out of her spasming little cunt, curling them up and tapping her most sensitive spot with each thrust.
Rya cries out as her release pours into my hand. Each jagged breath brings her more and more pleasure until her knees give out. I gently guide her onto the soft rug in front of the fireplace, positioning her on her hands and knees before standing up and getting a good look at my woman like this.
