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It’s the first time he’s called out my name in such a concerned manner. And it breaks my heart into pieces.
I smile at his genuine concern. “I’m alive.” My voice sounds like it’s been through a grinder, though, and it makes me chuckle a little. However, the adrenaline is subsiding, and the cold comes rushing back in. I’m completely soaked and shivering like crazy.
“You’re cold,” he says with a gruff voice.
He unfurls the blanket around my body, only to wrap it around his, too, pulling me in closer.
I’m right up against his bare chest now, coarse hairs prickling my arms and chest. The pure heat he radiates could start a fire all by itself. That’s how hot he is. And for some reason, it makes me blush more than anything.
For a savage, he has such a gentle way about him that moves me.
He’s crude, hard as a rock, capable of murdering with just one hand, yet he doesn’t seem to want to actually hurt someone.
Back when we were still at the house, I remember him chopping up his food like he wanted to kill it. Like he hated being there and having to eat with me. Like he wanted to go back to whatever he was doing, return to his shell … cease to exist.
But ever since we came out here in the wilderness, something about him has changed. Like he can actually feel more than just anger and hatred. As though he’s beginning to feel something for me.
And for some reason, that makes me lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheeks.
His whole body tenses up like he’s about to attack. The look he gives me almost makes me want to run off and never come back. That’s how embarrassed I am. Especially when his hand reaches for his skin right where I pressed my lips onto him.
I mutter, “Thank you. For rescuing me.”
He brushes the spot, his muscles still tight as fuck as he holds me, but not as menacing as they were a second ago. And he frowns. He actually frowns.
“What was that?”
Now I’m frowning too. “A … kiss?”
How could he not know?
“Hmm …” It’s that same rumbling from his chest that he did before when he saw me … naked.
And it makes me swallow hard.
“Why?”
“Well, because … I … I’m grateful?” I can’t even say it with a straight face.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “I told you I wouldn’t let you die.”
I nod a few times, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
“Well, maybe I just think you’re nice.”
Oh God. Why did I say that? I sound so stupid.
I tuck my hair behind my ear.
Why is this so difficult? Here I go again with the blushing.
I sigh as I try to take my mind off things, but it’s almost impossible when he’s the only thing I have. The serenity of this place really doesn’t help, as it only makes me want to relax in his arms. But it’s so beautiful here in this small pasture with flowers growing everywhere and birds and bees buzzing about. A small butterfly flutters toward us, and Soren stretches out his hand for it to land on his finger. He gazes at it for a moment as though he’s appreciating the beauty in a tiny critter he could squash without effort. Instead, he treats it as a fragile work of art that he just wants to enjoy. Before it flies off and disappears into the sunset.
I yawn and blink a couple of times as I let myself sink away into his chest, appreciating this short moment of ignorant bliss.
“You’ve stopped shivering,” he murmurs.
I nod against his skin, which feels crazily good for some reason. So good that I want to close my eyes and just fall asleep against him, even if I know that sounds wrong. But I’m so damn tired after walking all day and then swimming through a surge.
“Sleep.” His commanding voice makes goose bumps scatter across my skin.
“Here?” I ask. “But is it safe?”
His hand reaches down to my face, and he tips up my chin to make me look at him. “You’re safe with me.”
I didn’t think I could warm up any more, but apparently, I could from just those words.
“I’ll watch over you,” he adds, his breath so close I can feel it on my skin.
My skin flushes with heat.
He’ll watch me while I sleep.
Oh God.
Why did that make my pussy clench?
I hide in the blanket and curl up against him, letting myself go in the drowsiness that’s taking over my body. But along with the tiredness comes something else … dreams of a man I shouldn’t want or crave.
Not even when I sleep can I get him out of my head. In my dreams, I’m still tied to that tree, but instead of him jerking off, he’s riding up against my back, railing me from behind. And I’m drooling, moaning, begging, worshiping every inch of him inside me as I explode into a delicious orgasm.
