Page 80 of Forged in Rain

With an intensity that creates a burn in my veins, he pulls me up and into his arms. His bloodied fingers and streaked arms now sport a few new scrapes, and his nose is coloring in the form of a nasty bruise.

I trace my gaze over the cut above his eye with a frown before dropping my chin. He’s a mess, but he looks amazing, and with a sigh, I lay my head against his chest. Maybe he doesn’t know how to tell me how he feels, but his body does the job just fine.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he rumbles, and I lean back, gazing into his eyes.

“Me, too.”

His gaze softens, and he pulls me close before grabbing my mouth in a searing kiss. Opening on a moan, I stretch on my tippy toes and wrap my arms around his neck. Only now, in the aftermath of it all, do I realize I could have died, and nothing would have been more tragic than never to see or touch this man again.

Cyn growls, picking me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he stalks further into the yard, down another hill, and behind a copse of trees. Pressing me against the tallest one, we’re surrounded by its low-hanging limbs as he clutches my face and laves me with his tongue.

I match his intensity, bucking into his erection, and we trade heated kisses before, by unspoken agreement, he sets me down carefully, turns me around, and tugs my jeans down to my ankles.

“This okay?” he asks gruffly, and I nod, pulling my ankle free before standing.

He pushes me against the tree, and with a cry, I buck into his fingers as he thrusts into my wet core before pumping into me briskly.

“Cyn!”

“Fuck, beauty. So wet,” he says gutturally, pulling free.

“Yes,” I moan as he grabs my hips and thrusts into me.

Bucking into him, I race toward orgasm quickly on the wings of my adrenaline haze. My limbs tremble, and I collapse against the tree trunk, sobbing my pleasure into the air as his hands tighten around my waist.

I’m filled so full, with heat surging through me like wildfire, and I thrust against him, needing more. So much more. Sensing my disquiet, he leans over my back, grabs me close, and grinds into me.

“Ohhh,” I say on a low moan, dropping my head to my crossed arms as I fly over.

He sucks in a breath and explodes, thrusting into me rapidly, and I cry out, spasming around him.

“Rain,” he says softly, and the hair on my nape stands on end. His tone is one of desperation and need, and it brings tears to my eyes.

“Cyn,” I say just as softly, closing my eyes when he hugs me from behind and says, “Don’t ever fucking leave.”

“Never,” I whisper, and he shudders.

Chapter Fifteen

It’s midnight. After our interlude under the trees, Cyn bustled me into the SUV, and we drove to Jig’s house. Now I’m sitting on the couch fighting off sleep as Cyn, Jig, Bastion, and Hate speak in low tones behind me.

The guys emerged from the brawl, with Cyn sporting a black eye and cut lip, Hate no better. I’m guessing now that they’ve resolved their issues with a bro fight, they’re good, although I didn’t ask. I want to sail a little longer on the tide of the feelings burning in my chest.

Cyn showed a vulnerability that makes my heart sing, and I’m over the moon. I just want to have this for a bit longer. I don’t think it’s too much to ask.

“I don’t fucking care,” Cyn growls, and I jump from where I’m dozing, wrapped in his sweatshirt.

“We don’t have a fucking choice,” Hate says.

“There has to be another way,” Bastion interjects before a screeching sound makes me jump again.

“I will not send her back there. No. Figure something else out,” Cyn says vehemently before rounding the couch and gazing down at me.

Blinking up at him, I smile, ignoring the conversation I just overheard. He looks me over with a rabid intensity before scooping me up and stalking down the hall to my new room. Once inside, he lies beside me on the bed and pulls me close.

Snuggling against him, I breathe in his masculine, spicy scent and sigh. I know the time for avoiding reality is at an end, and I’m just about to ask what it is Hate wants me to do when he speaks. “When I was six years old, my mom left. She was strung out on drugs. Total fucking waste.”

Resting my chin on my hand, I gaze up at him with a sad smile, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face. “For years, it was just me and my old man. But he was a fucking dick who didn’t care what I did as long as it didn’t interfere with his life. I hated her for leaving me with him. And I hated him. But beauty, if she hadn’t left, I wouldn’t be here now, and I can’t fucking regret this.”

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