Page 21

“There you are. I’ve been waiting for you.” Ronan stood in the doorframe, his broad frame filling the doorway.

Thorne and Silas made me forget while I was in their tents, but a part of me had always been conscious of finally coming to Ronan.

I hesitated for a second before admitting, “Me too.”

“It’s really good to hear that, Gwen.” His eyes softened briefly, a look of pride glinting in them. “You listened to Silas and Thorne so well.”

I swallowed hard. If I could just be a little braver, I could ask him to teach me too. From the second I ran into him, Ronan had encouraged me to take what I wanted. I knew whatever was in this tent would be exactly what I needed.

His gaze dragged slowly down my body, then back, snagging just above my collar.

“These look good on you,” he said, stroking the rough pad of his thumb over my neck, amusement and something darker in his tone.

My pulse flickered beneath his touch.

“What looks good on me?” I questioned automatically. When just a simple graze felt this good, who cared what I looked like?

He lowered himself so that his mouth brushed the same sensitive spot on the curve of my neck, and his voice dropped an octave as he said, “Was it Thorne or Silas who marked you so prettily?”

My hand flew up to cover what I now realized were hickeys, but Ronan caught it, entwining our fingers instead. “It’s almost a shame to cover them… but…” His tongue stroked over the mark, tasting it. “You’d look better with mine.”

He covered the spot with his mouth, sucking hard enough to draw out my gasp. My head tilted back to make more room as he took his time switching between bringing me to the brink of pain and soothing it with his tongue.

Ronan hummed in satisfaction as he looked at the mark he’d left, tracing it with his thumb. “I was right. You’re fucking beautiful wearing my mark.”

Heat pooled low in my belly at the way those words sounded like a claim. I’d never understood the appeal of hickeys before, but I suddenly wanted his marks all over every inch of me.

“You like it too?”

There was a small swoosh in my stomach when he guessed my thoughts. It was clear that he wasn’t going to let me hide from him, and I didn’t want him to. It felt like, with them, I would finally be able to let go of everything else.

“Where else can you mark me?” I asked.

A powerful rush flowed through me when Ronan let out a low groan in response. He dragged his fingers through his hair and looked up at the ceiling like he was trying to hold himself back. He jerked me forward, slamming me against him, then turned with me in his arms.

The inside of the tent was warmer than the cool night air, but that didn’t stop the shiver that rolled along my spine as I took it all in.

In the center of the tent, there was a black leather bench that somewhat resembled a gurney, without the guardrails. There were pulls and knobs at the side, and the creases in the fabric showed where the bench could fold and bend into different shapes.

My heart hammered against my ribs, and a sweet, aching pull began low in my stomach.

Ronan’s arms wrapped around my middle, and he dropped his chin to my shoulder as I took it all in. “I’ll mark you anywhere you want… I’ll mark you in places you haven’t even thought of so that everyone will know you’re mine.”

A wave of flutters rose with his words, but I tamped them down. I knew better than to take them literally.

He ran his palms along my body and traced every curve, leaving a branding trail in their wake. His one hand stopped on my rib cage and the other on the top of my thigh. Slowly, too fucking slowly, he began to move, palming my breast and slipping his fingers between my thighs, rubbing the fabric of my dress against my clit.

Arching my back, I chased after his touch, a moan slipping from my lips.

A pleased sound reverberated against my spine, and he whispered in my ear, “Attagirl.”

“Touch me,” I begged.

Ronan slid his hand under the hem of my dress and cupped my pussy. I hissed in a breath when his fingers curled against my entrance and his palm ground into my clit. The neckline of my collar creaked as he stretched it out, creating enough space that it would fall off my shoulder, revealing my chest.

He massaged my breast and rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, drawing out sparks of pleasure.

I tilted my hips and ground my ass into his hard cock, a thrill going through me when a shudder rippled through him.