Page 49 of Kane's Awakening
Chapter Fifteen
Kane
I hated showing Ryker that side of me. I’d worked so hard at making myself stronger and better andnevergoing back to that damn scared little boy, but there I was fucking crying on his shoulder as he held me.
And damn it all, it felt amazing to be held that way. Safe.
It was like he was the only thing holding me together—that his arms were keeping me from breaking apart. That his touch was keeping me from losing my damn mind.
Letting myself get comfortable around him would give him the power to break me. Surrendering to the safe space he created would give him that control over me, a kind of control I’d swore not to ever let anyone else have. But being wrapped in his warmth and soothed by his presence, I didn’t give a fuck about what may or may not happen later.
I only cared about the now. And right then, my need for Ryker outweighed my fear of losing him.
So I let him hold me, and I took the comfort he offered.
“I killed someone,” I admitted, feeling my throat tighten. Before I could dwell too much on the dude I’d shot, I backtracked a bit. “It was chaos, Ryker. We responded to a call that was just a damn noise complaint, and when we got there to check it out, the guys inside just started fucking shooting at us. Harry was knocked down and blood gushed out of his damn shoulder.”
Ryker was silent as he listened. His hand moved up and down my back, and I knew it was his way of soothing me.
“You did what you had to do,” he said. “I know that doesn’t make it any less upsetting, but maybe it’ll give you some peace of mind that there was no other option.”
“What if there was and I just didn’t see it at the time?” Fuck, I was starting to hyperventilate. I looked at him, searching his face for answers. “Maybe I could’ve shot him in the leg or the arm. Dammit! What if he didn’t have to die?”
“Shh.” He gripped the back of my head and pulled me back against his chest. “Kane, you can’t do that to yourself.”
I tightly shut my eyes, hating the images in my head—images of the guy’s face as blood dripped down his nose and cheek and pooled under his head. I hadn’t known I’d started to shake until Ryker told me to take deep breaths.
I did as he said, inhaling deeply for three seconds, holding for three, and then exhaling for three. The smell of him filled my senses—a subtle scent of cologne and aftershave—and I breathed him in, feeling myself calming with each breath. Leaning more into him, I closed my eyes, trying to soak up as much of him as I could.
“That’s it,” he said, moving one of his hands up to brush his fingers through my hair. “Just focus on taking deep breaths.”
I liked the feel of him playing with my hair, and I forced myself to focus on his touch—the way his fingers threaded through the strands. I needed more, though. Needed to feel him all around me.
Nuzzling my forehead with his, I kissed him.
He stilled a moment, but then a low groan escaped him, and he returned the kiss. Our lips moved in sync for minutes. Hours. I didn’t know how long, but it was fucking incredible. He enveloped me in his warmth, his scent, and I let him take me to that place I was afraid to go.
“Make love to me,” I whispered, pulling back and staring into his blue eyes.
The words came out unexpected. I’dneverdescribed sex in that way. Staring death in the face had given me a new perspective on life, I guess. Either that or it had been there the whole time and I was just more open to seeing it now.
“Are you sure?” he asked, both with lust in his tone but also concern. “You’re fragile right now.”
“Goddammit, Ryker,” I said. Fragile? I’d show him just how fragile I was as I buried my cock in him. “I need you.”
His face softened before he leaned forward and captured my lips again. Softly. Gently. He worked off my shirt, and I removed his. Fumbling fingers found the zipper on his pants and I slid them down his hips.
I’d changed into sweats when I’d gotten home, and he pulled them down with ease.
I laid back on the couch and he moved a hand down my chest. Lightly, his fingertips danced across my hard dick, and fuck it was just begging for his attention. He didn’t disappoint. First, his hands worked me, but then he slid down my body and his mouth consumed me. I nearly shot off the couch.
There was no thinking as we became lost in each other—no doubts about what the fuck we were doing.
We only broke apart long enough for me to jog to my bedroom and grab a condom and the bottle of lube from my dresser. When I returned, Ryker was touching himself, and my mouth dried. One of his hands was stroking his dick while the other was behind him and playing with his hole.
“Fuck,” I said before plopping back down and kissing up his throat. I then replaced his fingers with my own, and he whimpered in my ear. “I want you to ride me, Ryker.”
And he did.
