Page 41 of The Warrior's Salvation

She’s riding me like her life depended on it, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she descends and then rises, nails biting into my skin. “Yes…” I hiss, feeling the familiar pull of orgasm creeping closer by the second. My hands grip her hips, guiding her motions until she leans forward, her hair tickling my chest as I feel the hot spasms of her core around me, preparing to uncoil.

I guide her hips in a languid dance as our bodies find a rhythm. Her tits bounce, mouth dropped open in pleasure. When her gaze meets mine, I know she’s there, right on the edge. “I… I…” Her hands brace against my damp chest, her lungs heaving with exertion.

“Come for me,” I growl in her ear, thumb finding her clit, rubbing it as she cries out my name on a strangled moan. She continues to ride me as I thrust upward into her, and her pussy pulses around my cock. I watch as her body contorts and writhes. She shudders and jolts and loses herself in the moment, and I slow my thrusts to control my own release.

When she calms, I roll again, putting her back onto her back. I hover, inching in and out of her slowly as her eyes blink open and she smiles softly through continued tears.

“No one,” I say, punctuating each word with a thrust, “no man will ever touch you like that again.”

Tears still spill down her cheeks but they’re quieter now, more calmed than before. “I’ll kill him,” I promise, still fucking her gently, creating friction between us both. Her walls grip me tighter in response. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” she says, her chest heaving with each word. She squeezes around me again, and I can’t help but growl into her neck. “I love you,” she whispers, digging her nails into my shoulders.

“I love you too,” I say, meaning it more than anything in the world. “I love you so fecking much.” Her nails bite into my skin as my thrusts pick up speed again. I grab her hips and pound into her, determined to wipe away every harsh memory of Connelly’s touch with my own.

“Oh, God… Faster…” she whimpers, and her hips rock up to meet my thrusts. Her body begins to move again, rolling against mine as I dig in to push deeper. Her breathing is erratic, fingers clawing up my sides, and her lips pepper kisses on my chest, nipping and sucking my skin.

My cock is throbbing, balls drawing tight to my body as I feel her core tighten again. Orgasm crests over her like sunrise, making her face light up and her body awaken. She shudders and jolts again, and I ride it out until I can’t take it anymore. Hot, violent spasms rack my body and pure white-hot ecstasy shoots through my veins as I spill myself inside her, our wetness mingling together as we both fall over the edge.

I collapse on her, breathless and spent, kissing her forehead. Her arms wrap around me tightly, squeezing me as if her life depends on it, nuzzling against my collarbone. The scent of her shampoo mixed with our combined arousal is intoxicating, a heady reminder that she’s mine and mine alone.

Her head rests beneath my chin. I can feel each breath as it rises and falls against my chest. We’re both slick with sweat, lungs still working through the weight of everything that came before. The room is quiet. The kind of quiet that feels earned.

Her leg is tangled with mine. One of her hands rests over my heart, not moving. Mine is wrapped around her back, fingers splayed across the curve of her spine. Her skin is warm. She hasn’t spoken. Neither have I.

There’s blood under my nails. I should care. I don’t.

I shift just enough to pull her closer. She doesn’t resist. Her body presses to mine like it’s where she’s supposed to be. No hesitation. No apology.

She’s quiet for a long time, but I can feel the way her breath changes, how her body tightens just slightly before she speaks. “I’ve known for weeks,” she says. “I didn’t want to believe it at first. I kept thinking maybe I was just late, maybe it was stress. But I knew. And I was terrified.”

Her voice is raw, but not falling apart. She’s not hiding anymore. “Not because I didn’t want it. I did. I do. But because I didn’t know what you’d feel. If it would trap you. If you’d think I did it on purpose. If it would make you walk.”

I keep still, let her talk.

“I would stand in front of the mirror and try to picture your face when I told you. Sometimes, you were quiet. Sometimes angry. Sometimes, you just walked out. And every time I imagined it, I thought—maybe it’s better if I just keep it to myself.”

She shifts slightly, her hand brushing over my stomach like she needs something to hold on to.

She doesn’t move her hand right away, just keeps it there, as if she’s waiting for me to pull away. When I don’t, she finally speaks again.

“They still want me to marry Elvin.”

Her voice is quieter now, but not unsure. It’s something more bitter than fear.

“They’ve been pushing it harder lately. Pressing dates. Talking like it’s a done deal. I haven’t said yes, but I haven’t said no, either, and that feels worse.”

She swallows, then presses her forehead to my collarbone.

“I hate the way they look at me. Like I’m something to manage. A piece of the family they don’t know what to do with, so they’re just shoving me into the next acceptable box.”

I slide my hand up her spine, slow and deliberate. She doesn’t flinch. She leans in.

“I keep thinking if I let it happen, everything gets easier. No scandal, no explaining, no one asking why I picked you.”

I feel the weight in that last word—how much she means it. How scared she still is of what choosing me will cost her.

“I don’t care if it’s easier,” I say. “I care if it’s what you want.”

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