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No contract.
No death.
My breath hitches. He pulls me against him and strokes my soaked hair.
“Don’t cry, redbird,” he rumbles. “No one will hurt you again.”
“No one, but you,” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer, he just washes me and turns off the shower. We lay down in the bed in the loft. His mouth finds my neck and he’s so gentle this time when he kisses me.
His tongue soothes the place where his bite mark is imprinted in my skin. I stroke over the scabbed scratches on his arm as his finger and thumb tease at my nipples until they’re hard.
He doesn’t fuck me even though my sore pussy aches again. His mouth moves down my stomach. Kissing lightly until he gets to my sex. Desire roars back to life, and I find myself spreading my thighs wide to beg for his touch. His tongue slips hot and wet over my clit and I let my head fall back into the pillow and give in.
My hand weaves in his hair.
“I hope you’re being honest with me,” I whisper.
He kisses the inside of my thigh. “I will always protect you.”
I know that means he’s still not telling me everything. Maybe because it’s too ugly for me to see. My heart thumps and I’m so ashamed.
Am I so starved for love that I’ll swoon over my husband’s murderer?
A part of me wonders…did Clint kill that poor woman on purpose?
Or was it really an accident?
Because to me, the truth would change everything. But to him, it means nothing. He’s got a black and white view of justice. He’s the sort of man no one wants as their enemy because he won’t stop until the scales are balanced.
I look down at him and his hard eyes are soft for the first time. He’s looking at me like there’s no one else in this world. My throat tightens and tears gather in my eyes. He dips his head and licks slowly over my entrance. Soothing the sore places with his tongue.
“You taste like mine, redbird,” he says hoarsely.
My eyes smart.
Maybe I’ll tie him to a chair and call the police and make him confess. Maybe I’ll slip away and catch a train up north to Ontario and never see him again.
But I know I won’t do either of those things. Just as I knew I’d sleep with him without a contract, I know I’ll follow him anywhere. We’re a swift train heading into darkness and only he knows what’s up ahead.
CHAPTER THIRTY
GERARD
I feel so naked I can’t sleep. I’m not used to letting anyone see my scars and I feel almost guilty for having shown them. Part of me wishes I could take it all back. It’s not her responsibility to bear my burdens.
It’s not anyone’s but mine.
She sleeps fitfully beside me. In the early morning—or is it just late at night—I pull her body back against mine and trace the full curve of her naked hip and the sharp dip of her waist. I kiss the back of her neck until she stirs and her eyes flutter open.
“I need you,” I murmur. “Open your legs.”
She arcs her back and her eyes slip shut. “Do what you want to me, Sovereign. I’m going back to sleep.”
I push my hand between her thighs and stroke her pussy and listen as her breathing deepens. She doesn’t stir again as I wet her sex with saliva and push my cock into her entrance. I’m hard, but my desire to come wanes as I bask in the feeling of being inside her.
She feels like home.
