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“There’s a porta potty in there, Nightingale. Thought that was better than an open bucket,” Jude tells me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pulling me into his body heat.
“Of fucking course there is,” I grumble, still melting into him as my body relaxes completely in his arms.
“And lots of fresh hay,” Knox adds from beside us, and I swear to fucking God I’m going to wipe that smirk off his handsome face if he doesn’t stop laughing at me soon.
“And I added lots of snacks and water for you, Dove,” Aeron tells me from the other side, his usual serious look replaced with a very slight upward tilt of his lips. “And a torch so that when we’re in the air, you won’t be in the dark. Plus, blankets to keep warm.”
“I don’t get why we can’t just come back in the cabin with you guys,” I whine, wincing when my shrug pulls on my injured shoulder, a flash of pain taking my breath away for a second. Aeron’s almost smile turns into a concerned frown and he comes to step in front of me, Jude still at my back.
“I would be much happier if you could, Dove,” he murmurs softly, taking my face in his hands. Sparks and tingles race from his touch and I wonder if it will always be like this when he or any of them touch me. They set me alight. “I hate being separated from you so soon, but they smuggled you into Iran, there is no record of you leaving the US and so we have to smuggle you both back into America.”
I take a deep inhale, breathing in his clean cotton and sandalwood scent, Jude’s popping candy and sunshine smell mixing in until it’s all I can sense.
“Fine,” I huff, knowing that he’s right and we really have little choice. “But you fucking owe me all the orgasms for this.” Aeron’s grip tightens as he brings our foreheads together.
“I will spend days, no…weeks, fucking you until you can’t speak, Dove. I will tie you to our bed and we will each take turns until you are so full of our cum it drips out of you, and you can’t move without feeling our marks and love all over that sweet body.”
Before I can try to reboot my brain, he closes the distance between us, kissing me with such passion that the world around us melts away, leaving only his lips on mine, his hard body pressed up against me as he conquers me. My free hand grasps his shirt, pulling him closer, a growl of frustration sounding in my throat when my sling gets in the way.
He chuckles, pulling back with a sharp nip to my lip that sees to the complete destruction of my panties.
“Bastard,” I murmur, my legs feeling all kinds of weak, and not just from exhaustion.
Aeron steps back to be replaced by Knox, who wastes no time in kissing the shit out of me too. His kiss is no less claiming than Aeron’s, but there’s a yearning, a desperate longing for riding off into the sunset together in Knox’s kiss that reflects my soul. He leaves me just as breathless as Aeron did when he ends the kiss as quickly as he started it.
“See you on the other side, Little Bird,” he tells me, his lips puffy in the fading moonlight, his eyes devouring me.
My head is turned to the side by a firm grip, Jude taking my lips from behind. He teases and plays with me, leaving me aching and hungry for more, begging him to go harder. Just as I think he’s going to leave me hanging, he relents, pressing his lips firmly to mine and destroying me with every stroke of his tongue. Jude kisses me like he eats my pussy; like he’s a man starving and has just found a feast to gorge on.
“Come,Azizam,” Tarl says as Jude finally releases me. I take a step away from Jude’s warmth to be enveloped in Tarl’s as I take his offered hand.
“Stay safe, you two,” Adam orders us from the opening of the box, a smile on his tired-looking face.
“I’ll make sure she comes under no harm,” Tarl assures him, and Adam reaches out and grasps Tarl’s shoulder.
“I know you will, son.” He gives a squeeze and then turns his attention to me. “Lark—I should have—shit,” he stutters, his brows furrowed and his gaze pained. Stepping out of Tarl’s arm, I wrap my good arm around Adam’s waist and rest my cheek on his chest. His heart pounds in his rib cage, and it takes a moment before he places both arms around me, being careful to avoid my hurt shoulder.
“It’s okay, Adam. I’m okay, we all are,” I tell him, and I feel when his breath hitches.
“You almost weren’t,” he replies softly, and I pull back enough so that I look into his face, seeing the torment in the lines around his eyes.
“But we are still here, and if we worry about all the what-ifs of this world, we may as well sit in a corner and rock while our lives drift past us.” I beg him to understand that there is nothing he could have done to prevent what happened. “I’m glad that they took me, it gave Tarl a reason to fight for more than just his revenge, and as crazy as that seems to me, that he would fight to be with me, I would do the same for him. For them all.”
His chest expands with a huge inhale and he looks down at me with glistening eyes.
“You are more than any of us deserve, Lark,” he says in a choked voice, his throat bobbing as he tries to hold it all in.
“We are all exactly what we deserve for each other, Pops.” His eyes go wide as I use the nickname Jude uses, and a warmth fills my chest as the first rays of the sun kiss the horizon. I always wondered what it would be like to have a true father, someone who took care of me as a dad should, and I think in Adam Taylor, the man who used to be my enemy, I may have just found that.
* * *
We’re about an hour into the flight, after traveling on the road for an hour, and I feel too wired to relax like Tarl ordered me to do when we were first loaded onto the plane. He switched the lantern torch on as soon as they settled us and no one was around, the light casting a soft glow around us as the sounds of horses whickering can be heard alongside the plane’s engines.
“Come lie down,Azizam,” he coos from his place on the cushy nest Jude built for us out of hay and soft blankets. I already pulled on the hoodie that Knox gave me, one sleeve hanging down so my sling is tucked inside. His motor oil and clove scent is helping to keep me a little calmer as I pace inside the box. “Try to rest, you’re still recovering.”
To be fair, it’s not too bad, the porta potty having been set up in the second compartment; this box can carry two horses and there is a partial separation wall. We have a vast pile of snacks and drinks that Aeron left, plus a mountain of blankets.
“I’m too het up to relax, Tarl,” I whine, pacing the small space again and wanting to growl in frustration that I can’t look at the clouds as they pass us by. “It’s only the second time I’ve been in a fucking aeroplane, and the first time I was kidnapped and drugged, and now I’m in a fucking horse box.” He grimaces, and I pause in my movements, my shoulders falling. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
