Page 55 of Dirty Delivery

Her tears come harder. Her body convulses against mine. I hold her tighter, my own emotions threatening to overwhelm me as I try to shield her from the memories that haunt her. Time will heal her physical wounds, but it’s the scars I can’t see that haunt me the most. Her body will heal, but it’s her spirit that I worry about—the part of her that laughs, fights and loves with everything she has. She’s so much more than the broken woman in my arms; she’s fierce, unyielding, and stronger than she knows. The light inside her may feel dimmed now, but I refuse to let it go out.

I stroke her back gently, trying to calm her. We stay like this for what feels like hours, wrapped in each other as the water cools around us. Her breathing eventually evens out, and I realize she’s fallen asleep against my chest. I don’t dare move. I’d stay in this tub forever if it meant giving her even a moment of peace.

As the stillness settles around us, I’m left with my thoughts. I’ve been so focused on eliminating the threats around her that I hadn’t prepared myself for this—for the aftermath. I want her to smile again, to laugh, to believe in her own strength. And I’ll do whatever it takes to help her find her way back, no matter how long it takes. She’s worth it. Every moment, every effort. She’s worth everything.

Chapter Forty-Five

Savannah

Five Weeks Later

They say “time heals all wounds” or some dumb cliché like that, but the only thing healing my wounds is Rylan. He has stood by my side through all the ups and downs I’ve been going through since being freed from my torture. When I have horrific nightmares, reliving moments people couldn’t even imagine, he holds me close and heals my heart and mind with his words of comfort and love.

Love—what a silly word, but I know I have truly come to love Rylan. If you had told me that I would fall in love with the cocky delivery driver who brought my monthly subscription of sextoys, I would have laughed in your face. But now, knowing I get to use those sex toys with that same cocky delivery driver calling the shots, I can’t imagine anything else.

I know Rylan loves me from his actions and his words. He may not have said “I love you” yet, but it doesn’t matter. I love him, and I know that with him by my side, my world is complete. We’ve been spending a lot of time together these last few weeks, just enjoying each other’s company. We watch movies, cook meals together, and even take long walks when I’m feeling up to it. I’ve even started writing my book again. Declan has stopped by for dinner a few times and shown me a completely different side to him than the broody, angry man he often portrays.

Tonight, Rylan and I are curled up on the couch, a movie playing softly in the background. His arm is draped around my shoulders, the weight of it grounding me. His warmth seeps into my skin, warding off the icy memories. My head rests against his bare chest, rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. His scent—faintly woodsy and comforting—wraps around me like a cocoon, making it impossible to focus on anything but him while soothing my spirit.

The movie fades into white noise, every thought in my head circling back to Rylan. The way his fingers idly trace patterns on my arm, the way his heartbeat thrums steadily beneath my cheek, the way he holds me like I’m something precious. I try to focus on the screen, but all I can think is how safe I feel in his arms—how much I never want this moment to end.

For weeks, he’s been so careful, so patient, never pushing for more than I can give. But tonight, something shifts inside me. I’m ready—ready to let him touch me, to be with him fully again.

I shift in his arms, turning to straddle his lap. His tattoos sprawl across his skin in intricate designs that tell a story I’m desperate to know more about. I trace the patterns on his arms and chest with trembling fingertips. His eyes widen slightly,his gaze darkening with intensity, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his hands grip my hips, his fingertips barely caressing the skin below the hem of my shorts, grounding me, the ink on his knuckles stark against my skin. I lean forward, brushing my lips against his, testing the waters. When he doesn’t pull back, I deepen the kiss, pressing my body closer to his as I grind against him, the friction sparking heat between us. I shift slightly, and a sharp pulse of desire shoots through me as I feel the unmistakable stiffness of his cock hardening beneath me in his sweatpants, pressing against my core. His groan is deep and guttural, vibrating through his chest, the sound making my whole body tremble. His grip tightens while he guides me against him as he kisses me harder. His lips are demanding, his tongue tangling with mine in a way that leaves me breathless.

“I need you, Rylan,” I whisper against his mouth, my voice trembling with a mixture of desire and nervousness. “All of you.”

His lips trail down my jaw to my neck, his breath hot against my skin as his hands grip my hips more firmly, pulling me closer, pressing me harder against him. “You already have me,” he growls softly, his voice rough and full of promise. “Every part of me is yours.”

But before we get too carried away, he loosens his grip on my hips, and he pulls back just enough to look into my eyes. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

In response, I take his hand and slide it into my shorts, letting him feel how wet I am for him. “Is this ready enough for you?” My tone is laced with a teasing challenge.

He moans in approval, his pupils dilating as his fingers brush against my clit. In one swift yet gentle motion, he wraps his arms around my waist and flips me onto my back on the couch. He hovers over me, his gaze searching mine for any hint of hesitation.

“Tell me if it gets to be too much, and I’ll stop immediately,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

I nod and pull him down for another kiss. His hands explore my body with a mix of reverence and hunger. Every touch ignites a fire in me, a fire I thought had been extinguished forever. His hands move back to my shorts, his fingers hooking into the waistband. With careful precision, he slides them down my legs, leaving me bare before him. His gaze roams over me, dark and intense, making my skin flush under the heat of it.

A slow, crooked smile spreads across his lips as his eyes flick back to mine. “You keep showing up without underwear around me,mo stóirín,and I might start thinking you’re trying to test my self-control.”

Then, in one swift move, he removes his gray sweatpants and boxers, his body now pressed fully against mine. His lips trail down my neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake, and when he reaches the sensitive spot just below my ear, I gasp his name.

“Rylan . . .”

His hand slips between my thighs, touching me with a softness that makes tears gather in my eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Savannah,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “So strong. So perfect.”

I arch into his touch, my body craving more of him. “I need you,” I plead, my voice breaking. “Please, Rylan.”

He doesn’t make me wait. Carefully, he positions himself, his hands grip onto my hips as he lines himself up. With one powerful thrust, he fills me completely, a gasp escaping my lips. His eyes lock onto mine while he moves, each thrust slow and deliberate, drawing us closer together.

“I love you, Savannah,” he groans, his voice thick with emotion. His movements grow deeper, more purposeful. My body tightens around him, my orgasm just within reach.

Stars dance in my vision as he thrusts a few more times, the sheer pleasure sending me over the edge. My body trembles beneath him, and I cry out, overwhelmed by the intensity.

“I love you too, Rylan,” I whisper, my voice shaky yet steadied by certainty. His name falls from my lips again, a soft prayer, as I cling to him, our bodies entwined, our hearts beating in perfect rhythm, like they were always meant to.

When we are both sated, our bodies slick with sweat and our breaths mingling in the stillness, we lie tangled together, the movie an afterthought, forgotten in the glow of this moment. Rylan strokes my hair gently, his fingers threading through the strands with a tenderness that steals my breath. My head rests on his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed.

---