Chapter Thirty-Five

Dane might have thought what had just happened was a dream, except for the pain in his leg and the trickle of sweat running down his back. He didn’t dream with such detail. Damn. He should work on that.

In the past when he’d had sex dreams, he’d woken hard and throbbing. He didn’t climax. And he never dreamed about what happened afterward.

The fact that Lena was still in his arms proved it was real.

He’d had sex with Lena Scott. The woman who’d bashed him over the head with a whiskey bottle. The woman who was enslaved by Viktor Kulakov. The desperate mother who would do anything to save her daughter. Except maybe risk the life of his son.

Pulling her closer, he kissed her hair and wondered what kind of damage he’d done. Had she truly wanted this? Or had she given herself in sacrifice to earn his forgiveness? He wouldn’t put it past her to go along with sex to please him.

Had he taken advantage of her guilt? Damn it to hell.

She’d been amazingly responsive, and he’d felt her pleasure grasping him, pulling him toward his own. He’d been relieved she finished so quickly. With his leg tweaked, he didn’t have the longevity he used to claim. He could only hope he hadn’t destroyed what trust he’d managed to nurture between them.

Neither moved, even after their breathing had leveled out to normal. They couldn’t stay like this forever. One of them would have to speak. They needed to continue on their trip. Time was of the essence.

“Should one of us say it was a mistake?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Do you think it was a mistake?”

“I’m sure it was…but I don’t regret it. At least not yet.”

“Let’s just lie here for a few more seconds. I’m sure we’ll start to feel guilty any moment now.” Her body moved against his in soft laughter, and he smiled up at the ceiling, not regretting a damn thing.

They were both consenting adults. They were dealing with a shit-ton of pain and anxiety, and had needed the release sex provided. All perfectly acceptable. Except he wanted her again, and he knew he had another condom in his wallet.

The first time could be excused as them losing their minds from all the pressure. But why was his body responding to her warm breath on his skin, and the way her leg was twined with his?

She raised her head and looked at him, the smile melding into a different look. Apparently, it wasn’t enough for her, either.

The last time he’d wanted to push into her, to be in control of their pace, but now his leg protested, and he was happy to position her over him once he had the other condom on. She sank down on his length with a moan of pleasure, and he enjoyed the opportunity to take her fears away, if only for a little while longer.

She rode him slowly, teasing him with a naughty smile. He snaked his hands along her thighs to her hips and pulled her down on him when she was not expecting it.

The room filled with the sound of her husky laughter…and his heart filled with a different desire. Not just lust or need. He understood his desire to protect her. What he didn’t understand was this brand-new feeling that took over as he touched her face and pulled her lips to his.

Their situation and all the emotions had created a bond between them. An accelerated reaction that would have taken months to form naturally.

She paused, looking down at him with a strange expression. He wanted to ask if she felt it, too, but to do so meant putting whatever it was into words, and he wasn’t able to do that.

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and he reached up to brush it away.

“I wish I had just been a woman at the bar,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Me, too.” He sat up so he could kiss her.

The change in position caused her to gasp in pleasure. Using his hands, he guided her up and down in a vigorous pace, until she broke around him, her hair covering his face as he held her close and rode out the spasms. When they subsided, he pushed up into her the half dozen times it took to finish, then he collapsed back down to the mattress.

His leg was killing him, but his heart and mind were soaring.

For the moment.