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RYKER BEGAN TO STIR the next morning, Emily still wrapped tightly in his arms. Her head was nestled on his chest like it was a pillow, and one of her legs was wrapped over his. She’d clung to him even in her sleep.
It was cuter than hell, but he was also hard as a rock. Her soft body nestled up against his, her breasts pressed up against his chest, had him imagining all sorts of scenarios between the sheets. Of him undressing her and kissing every inch of her bare skin.
And he couldn’t exactly let her wake up to find him this way. He was supposed to be watching out for her, not making love to her.
Making love.
What the hell was he thinking?
He had sex with a woman or fucked her. He didn’t make love to the woman he took into his bed.
Gently untangling himself so as not to wake her, he stood, his cock aching against the jeans he’d slept in. Jesus. He took care of business and then started the shower, relaxing a bit as the water poured down over him.
Turning off the water a few minutes later, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, deciding to let his short beard stay that way for another day or so. It was getting a little bit scruffy, but damn. He had other things to worry about.
He sauntered into the bedroom, surprised to find Emily awake.
“I heard the shower running,” she said, her cheeks pinkening slightly as she took in his muscular physique.
“I thought you were still asleep,” he said, meeting her gaze.
She shifted in front of him, and his chest inexplicably filled with pride. She was flustered around him. Attracted to him. She’d been curled up in his arms all night long and now seemed nervous that he was standing here half-naked.
He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable, but damn. Having her look at him like that had heat coursing through him. His gaze swept the room. “My bag’s still in the living room,” he said, his voice deep. “I should go get dressed.”
She nodded, and his lips quirked as she snuck another glance at him. Hell. Normally he’d be all over a woman the following morning—taking her again in bed, maybe pleasuring her in the shower as well.
But this?
He turned to go grab his stuff.
“I’ll just, uh, go shower, too,” she said.
He glanced back over his shoulder, noticing she was checking out his butt. “I’ll get dressed and check in with Hunter. Then I’ll see what we can find for breakfast.”
“Sounds good,” she said softly.
He left her there as he sauntered out of the room, smiling to himself as he walked down the hallway. Jesus. He was actually smiling over a woman he hadn’t even slept with. Well, he’d slept with her in the most literal sense. But he hadn’t had sex with her. Hadn’t seen her naked. Hell, he hadn’t even kissed her.
And he sure as shit wasn’t going to while he was supposed to be here protecting her.
He quickly dropped his towel in the living room and pulled on some clean clothes. Not that he expected Emily to follow him out here, but there was no need to make her any more uncomfortable.
Pulling out his phone, he texted Hunter.
Any updates? We’re at the cabin.
Hunter didn’t respond immediately, and Ryker strolled into the kitchen. He frowned as he opened the cupboards. There were some canned goods, as he expected, and some stale oatmeal. He’d go root around in his backpack and see what he’d grabbed from Emily’s place. He was happy he’d brought the ground coffee she’d just ordered with her groceries.
Who pulls into a cabin in the middle of the night and jokes about Starbucks?
A woman who’d been held prisoner, that’s who. She deserved every damn fancy Starbucks drink and restaurant meal in the world after what she’d gone through.
He wished they’d had time for some grocery shopping before they abruptly rushed out here. Hell, he’d have picked up stuff to make burritos, margaritas—the whole nine yards. Whatever she wanted. Instead, they’d rough it out here for a couple of days, and then when things died down, he’d bring her back home.
Simple as that.
His phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, and he glanced at the text.
The FBI has been searching for the suspects.
Surveillance footage shows they were in her condo building yesterday morning.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He quickly thumbed a response. If anything, leaving was the right thing to do. Izallah’s men had been looking for her. Hell.
He crossed back to the living room, digging through his bag. The bottom of it was still gritty with sand. Jesus. He’d barely been back and had already rushed off.
Ryker grabbed the few things he’d taken from Emily’s condo, stashing them on the table for the moment. It wasn’t much, but maybe a few small comforts from home would somewhat assuage the fact they had to hide out here for the time being.
The bathroom door in the hallway opened, and his jaw dropped open as Emily stepped out wearing only a towel. It crossed over her breasts, hitting her at mid-thigh, and he saw the small amount of bruising left on her ribs. He was crossing over to her before he thought better of it, and she looked up, her lips parting.
Her breasts rose up and down beneath the towel, and the scent of soap and whatever floral stuff she used wafted over him.
She was breathtaking—nothing but smooth skin and soft eyes, with wet hair trailing down her back. “Are you okay?” he asked, hovering over her. He wanted to punch the lights out of the men that had hurt her, but even more than that, he wanted her in his arms.
Ryker wanted to prove to himself that she was okay—to feel her whimpering and crying out beneath him. To let her feel something good for a change. To make her come completely undone as he gave her pleasure.
Emily took a hesitant step closer to him, and then he was collecting her into his arms without another thought. Her head tilted back, and he claimed her lips with his own. She tasted minty, of the toothpaste she’d just used, and sweeter than anything in the entire world. Ryker couldn’t help himself—he moved even closer, and she boldly palmed his erection through his jeans.
Ryker growled and moved behind her, so that her wet hair brushed against him. Emily whimpered, but he didn’t give her any time to otherwise respond. He moved her floral scented tresses aside, and kissed the side of her neck, inhaling her sweetness.
In the past he’d always moved quickly with a woman—clothes off, condom on, and they’d both be headed straight to ecstasy.
But with her?
He wanted to caress and kiss all that smooth skin. Touch her so that she whimpered and softly cried out his name.
The towel wrapped enticingly around her breasts, but he slid his hand lower, so that it grazed her inner thigh.
“Ryker,” she whimpered, leaning back against him.
He skimmed the rough pads of his fingers up her satiny skin, finally reaching the soft hair that covered her sex. He crooked his hand, grazing his knuckle up her seam. He’d barely touched her, but he could swear that he smelled her arousal.
And the soft sighs she gave him told him everything he needed to know.
“You’re mine, Emily,” he said in a low voice. His teeth grazed over her neck, slightly rougher than his soft kisses, but she reached up and undid her towel, letting it drop down to the floor. She was naked before him—long, dark hair. Pert, medium-sized breasts. She had rosy, round nipples the same color as her full lips. And then his gaze dropped to that dark thatch of hair covering her pussy. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to be inside of her. He couldn’t wait for Emily to come apart, screaming in his arms.
Ryker wanted to consume her—to make love to her for hours and claim her in every way imaginable. Sure, he couldn’t wait to sink his cock into her silken walls, but even more than that, he wanted her pleasured and sated beneath him.
“Take me,” she whispered. “Make me forgot about everything and just feel good.”
“Are you sure?” he asked roughly.
She nodded and grabbed his wrist, tugging him back into the bedroom. He followed behind her, entranced.
“Kiss me right here,” she said as they stopped beneath the window overlooking the forest. “I want to feel like I’m outside—I was trapped in a dark room for so long. I thought I’d never see this again.”
He nodded, ducking down to kiss her trembling body. Her full lips met his, and he kissed and nipped at her. Suddenly he was gently turning her toward the window so she could see outside. She whimpered as he kissed her neck, her nipples pressing up against the cool glass.
Jesus.
What anyone lurking in the forest would see. Thank fuck there was no one around for miles—no one but Emily, him, and nature to witness as he claimed her as his.
His hand covered her pussy once more, his fingers trailing through her damp folds. If he’d harbored any doubts about how badly she wanted him, her body proved him wrong. She was wet and aroused—ready for him.
“Ryker,” she whimpered, gasping as his teeth grazed her neck.
He slid his rough fingers through her arousal and up to her clit, circling around as she gasped against him. He locked his arm around her waist, her breasts still pressed against the window. His able fingers coaxed her higher and higher, teasing all her silken folds. Her arm wrapped around his neck as she clung on to him, desperate and needy.
It was erotic as hell having her naked, writhing body in front of his. He glanced down, looking at his muscular forearm against her stomach. Her skin was pale and smooth; his was rough, with dark hairs covering it.
And the sweetest spot of all was his large hand on her sex.
She was swollen and dripping for him, and he was dying for just a taste of her on his tongue.
He began to move his fingers faster, circling her sensitive bud, and he sensed that she was nearly there. Her entire body became taut, arching back further against him, and then Emily screamed her release, her orgasm seeming to go on and on.
He growled in approval as she came for him, his fingers drenched with her release. Unable to stop himself, he lifted his hand to his lips, sucking off her sweet juices. She gasped for breath as she came down from her high, and then he was lifting her up and carrying her to bed.
She weighed next to nothing, and her naked body in his embrace nearly made him come undone.
“Do you have any condoms?” she asked after he’d laid her down.
Nodding, he dug one out of his wallet. He quickly stripped off his jeans and boxers, finally tearing his shirt off as an afterthought. Emily eagerly reached out and ripped the foil packet open, sliding the rubber down over his aching shaft.
She ran her hand up and down his thick length, and his cock jumped.
Jesus.
She needed to stop touching him or he’d come right here.
“Make love to me, Ryker,” she said, and in that moment, he could deny her nothing. She parted those creamy thighs for him, and he gazed at her a moment, entranced. Lining himself up at her entrance, he slowly pushed inside, ducking down to kiss her mouth as he claimed her.
Emily was tight, her inner walls still pulsing with her orgasm. She wrapped her slender legs around his waist though, her arms hanging onto his torso. Of course this woman would cling to him while he made love to her. Had she not done the same thing last night?
She was wrapped around Ryker like she belonged to him.
He kissed her as he bucked into her beautiful body, determined to make her come once more before he chased after his own release. He angled himself, grinding his erection against her clit as he dove deeper, and she gasped.
“That’s it, baby,” he said huskily. “Come one more time for me.”
“Ryker, oh God,” she whimpered.
He increased the pace, Emily tightening her hold on him, and with a few more quick thrusts, she was crying out his name again. Her inner walls clamping down around him caused his own release, and Ryker’s balls tightened as he shot his load into the condom.
Fuck, that was amazing.
He rolled to his back, pulling Emily right along with him, so that she was astride his semi-hard cock. Her body perched atop him was pure heaven, and she ducked down and kissed him. His arms wrapped tightly around her, securing her in place, pinning her to him. She was his, exactly where she belonged—right here with him, safe in his arms.
