Page 34 of Mission Shift

I frowned. “We’re inside a concrete bunker in the middle of nowhere. We haven’t seen any signs of people—just wildlife. I think we’ll be fine.”

“Lack of vigilance is what gets people killed,” she countered.

“No, what gets people killed is exhaustion,” I shot back. “Daria, we’ve been running on fumes for days. Lack of sleep messes with your brain—delaying reaction times, impairing decision-making, decreasing situational awareness. All of it tanks when you’re sleep-deprived. You might think you’re alert, but your body’s already betraying you. Trust me. I’m aparamedic. I’ve seen what happens when people push past their limits.”

She hesitated, clearly thinking about my words.

“We both need rest,” I continued. “In the event something does happen, we won’t be any good to each other if we can’t function properly. Besides, based on what I know of you, the least little sound will have you awake and moving.”

She exhaled slowly, some of the tension easing from her body. “Fine. I’ll just rest my eyes a little.” She picked up the package of wet wipes and moved to stand by the makeshift bed. God, she was beautiful in the light of the fire.

“Good,” I said, setting my bowl aside.

She removed the tactical belt and her fatigue shirt and laid them on the edge of the blanket, then lowered herself and sat cross-legged. Pulling out a couple of the wipes, she cleaned her face. I sat down next to her and took one too. The cool cloth felt good against my dirty skin.

I watched Daria as she rubbed the wipe along her neck and down toward her chest. The firelight danced across her skin, highlighting the lines of her collarbone and the curves that teased just beneath her tank top. I swallowed hard, my thoughts veering into dangerous territory.

I grabbed another wipe, shaking my head to clear it. “I think you missed a spot,” I said softly, leaning toward her.

Her eyes flicked to mine, but she didn’t pull away as I gently ran the cool cloth along her cheek, trailing it down the length of her throat. She let out a slow breath and tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering shut. Damn, her vulnerability in this moment stunned me in a way I hadn’t seen coming. The woman was a fortress most of the time, but here she was letting me care for her.

Moving without really thinking, I tossed the wipe and pulled her closer so she could lie beside me on the makeshift bed. Istretched out my arm, letting her rest her head on my bicep while my other arm circled her waist. She fit perfectly against me, her body warm and soft.

But then she shifted, adjusting herself to get comfortable, and in doing so, her ass pressed right against me—right against my cock, which decided it didn’t give a damn about my exhaustion. It sprang to life instantly, and I cursed under my breath. I tightened my hand on her belly, splaying my fingers to keep her from moving again.

“Stay still,” I rumbled. “You keep doing that, and you’re going to get more than you bargained for.”

Her response was a light, playful giggle. And, of course, she wriggled her hips again, this time intentionally. The pressure of her against me shot straight to my balls, and I hissed through clenched teeth.

“Dammit, Daria,” I growled. “I mean it.”

She turned her head just enough to glance at me, her eyes shimmering with mischief. That surprised me. She’d been clear—we couldn’t blur our boundaries again like we had back at the lake. But here she was, teasing the hell out of me. There was no way I could resist that glimpse of playfulness. Her icy blues were on fire.

I leaned in and kissed her temple softly. “I know exactly what you need right now,” I murmured near her ear. My voice was a low command. “But you need to stop moving and relax. Just…be still and trust me.”

Her breathing hitched, and she went motionless. I pressed gently on her stomach, and she let out a slow exhale, gradually melting into my hold.

We were both worn out, and it was the kind of fatigue that seeped into your bones and made you ache for a moment of peace. Daria had made me rock hard. She was exhausted from our long trek, and yet there was a tension in her, a coiled springof stress and adrenaline that I recognized all too well. If she was ever going to get any sleep, she needed to let go, find some semblance of calm.

She’d been teasing me, knowing exactly what she was doing when she pressed against me. But I wasn’t about to take advantage of the situation. She needed release, not complications.

Slowly, I let my hand drift up under her tank top, my fingers grazing the soft skin of her stomach. Her sharp intake of breath was the only indication that she was still very much awake and very much aware of my every move. Her heartbeat quickened beneath my hand as I gently squeezed, my thumb circling her nipple until it hardened under my touch. She let out a soft moan, arching her back to press her breast more firmly into my hand.

Her body yielded to the pleasure she sought, the pleasure I was more than willing to provide. I let my fingers wander, tracing the curve of her breasts.

I took my time, exploring every inch of them, rolling her nipples between my fingers. Her breaths came faster now, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath she took. I continued, moving my fingers slowly, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer tugs. Her body writhed against mine as I teased and pleasured her.

My hand slid down her belly, tracing the line of her waistband before unfastening the button of her pants. When I dragged the zipper down, she shivered with anticipation.

I slipped my hand inside, my fingers finding the tight bundle of nerves. She was already slick with desire, her body responding immediately to my touch. I circled her clit with gentle pressure, each stroke eliciting a moan from her parted lips.

Her body tensed within my arms, her hips rocking as I teased her. As soon as I slid one finger inside, her tight walls clenched around my finger like they never wanted to let go. I added asecond finger, stretching her, preparing her for the rhythm I was about to set.

She was so wet, so needy, her body trembling.

Thrusting in and out, I found the perfect pace that made her cry out in pleasure. She tried to turn toward me, but I held her firmly in place, determined to make her come, to give her the gratification she craved.

Her moans grew louder, and she began to seek the friction needed to tip her over into oblivion. I increased the speed of my fingers, curling them just so, to hit that sweet spot inside her. My thumb continued to stroke her clit in time with the thrusts of my fingers, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

---