Ren and Della: Boxed Set (Ribbon Duet Book 3)

by Pepper Winters

We were wet and messy and scorching hot.

  It turned me on.

  Christ, it turned me on.

  I couldn’t catch my breath as I found her clit and rubbed.

  Her back snapped up. “Oh, God!”

  “Shut up. Just shut up.” I rubbed harder, all while plunging my tongue into her mouth in time to the plunging between her legs.

  Her nails punctured my ass, riding with me as I rode her.

  Every roll and twist and thrust of my hips, she matched me until I didn’t know who fucked who.

  Leaves flew. Birds scattered. And it was no longer about love but war.

  “Ren!” Her body tightened, her legs spasmed around my hips, and the delicious heat of her pulsed with release.

  I lost everything that made me human.

  I only lived to make love to this woman.

  I only existed to be hers.

  My orgasm brewed full of pain and exquisite intensity, pushing me over the edge.

  We clawed and cried and thrust and fucked, and my entire world changed being inside her. My soul switched owners as the thunderstorm that had teased me from the beginning finally found its matching cloud and erupted into existence.

  My release ripped howls from my chest, vows from my heart, and promises from my soul. And I knew, without a shadow of a fucking doubt, I would never be whole again unless I had Della.

  She was it for me.

  I belonged to myself no more.

  I’d officially handed over my life, and I was done fighting.

  Forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  DELLA

  * * * * * *

  2031

  A NEW MANUSCRIPT, a new page, a new story.

  It’s been a long time since I wrote down our tale. Too long since I’ve felt the keys of a laptop beneath my fingers and sat alone with my memories.

  So many, many memories.

  To be honest, I don’t even know where to begin.

  I did scribble now and again into that tatty notebook I took with me, but once Ren and I slept together, I forgot about everything else.

  I didn’t need anything else.

  It was like the past story of our lives was over, and we had a new story to look forward to.

  Does that make sense? It was the end of an era. Forbidden, unrequited love no more.

  I will admit that I worried a little once we finally ‘did the deed.’ I worried that Ren would struggle with our new connection. I worried we’d still have roadblocks to overcome.

  I needn’t have worried.

  Once Ren took me on that forest floor, filling me so full and hard that I had external and internal bruises for days, he committed himself to everything he’d been fighting.

  His protectiveness became fiercer. His love deeper. His commitment truer than it had ever been.

  That first time—that magical time—we both walked away (or rather limped) with cuts and scrapes and a togetherness that meant we could barely stop touching long enough to put up the tent.

  From that moment on, we were insatiable.

  Desperate and hungry and crazily in love.

  Being in love with Ren Wild…words can’t do it justice.

  When he finally took me—when he finally woke up and saw he wasn’t the only one with a wildness inside him—we reached a level that sometimes scared me.

  The depth of love I felt for him.

  The depth of love he felt for me.

  It demanded our hearts beat to the same rhythm, our bodies be near, our minds be in-tune, our breaths be in-sync. I’d never felt anything like it. And I still feel it today.

  His fears that he was selfish and unkind when it came to sex were totally unfounded. He couldn’t accept that, after a life of doing his utmost to protect me, it was okay to be rough.

  Wanting me as savagely as I wanted him didn’t make him any less of a saint.

  In fact, his darker desires made perfect sense. He bent over backward to put my needs before his own, but when it came to sex, he took his own pleasure too.

  And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

  Sleeping with Ren that day in the forest was my third sexual experience, but it might as well have been my first. Where Ren treated me like a queen in every waking moment of my life, when he got me beneath him—I was his to use as he saw fit.

  He snapped and growled and dominated. He swore, which he painstakingly never did. He bruised me after making a vow to protect me from everything. He took control over what he wanted rather than sacrificing everything. When he thrust, he forgot about me and became obsessed with me at the same time. And when he made me come, that was the true gift because I’d never come before.

  I craved—even before I knew what I needed—to be punished.

  I needed to be punished because I’d fallen in love with a man I shouldn’t, and a part of me always needed that discipline.

  Only Ren understood because he had that same sin. Ren was the only one with the power to make me feel wholeheartedly female, and I worshipped that man with every inch.

  I look back, and I’m actually jealous of myself. Jealous of that perfect time. Jealous of everything we were about to enjoy, endure, and explore.

  There is so much I need to tell you. So many, many things.

  And I will.

  I’ll get around to it because I’m not leaving anything out.

  I can’t, you see.

  I have to write it down because I never want to forget. I never want to forget every minute of every day—not just passing flashes that make an impression.

  Flashes like sleeping with Ren that first time.

  Flashes like every day thereafter and every day in between.

  Life is so fast and stuffed full of surprises that I’m afraid if I don’t write them down, they’ll disappear just as child amnesia deletes your earliest memories.

  And it’s more than just a drive to immortalize Ren with ink on paper. It’s a necessity because these pages are our photo album.

  Back when we were younger, we didn’t have the luxury of cameras and video recorders. There are no pictures of us as we grew side by side. But there are words. And they are just as special because they’re painted with all the love and connection I was feeling at the time. They not only show an image but let me borrow those emotions and relive it.

  As for the other assignment—the one I was going to burn just before Ren walked back into my life? Well, that’s here beside me. Almost two decades later, and I still have it. Ink smudged and paper torn but still intact and treasured.

  Ren never let me burn it.

  He tucked it safe and kept all three-hundred-and-ninety-seven pages wedged in his backpack the entire time we travelled.

  This story is no longer about a baby and a boy who were never meant to be family, but a woman and a man who were always destined to be soulmates.

  But before I get started, I want to say a few things.

  First, I’m well aware I’m breaking another writing rule. Not only am I shattering the fourth wall, but I’m also talking to you from the future. I have the benefit of knowing how this tale turns out.

  I know the ending.

  I know the journey we take.

  And you’ll have to excuse me if I slip now and again. You’ll have to forgive me for any spoilers because it isn’t intentional. It’s hard keeping things tucked up inside, desperate for their time to shine, my fingers cramping with desire to fly over the keyboard and release sentences and descriptions of the best man I’ve ever known.

  But as much as I want to just blurt out everything, to let you know what happened when we travelled back to Cherry River, to whisper the name of someone so unbelievably special, to reveal if Ren and I got married…I can’t.

  It wouldn’t be fair, because like any story, there is a beginning, a middle, and an end.

  You know our beginning.

  You’re about to know our middle.

  And our end…well, that’s not finished yet, so you’ll
have to be patient.

  What I can give you are incidents.

  Five incidents that are crucial to this tale.

  Just like I teased you with the four times Ren and I were apart, this time…there are moments.

  Wonderful moments.

  Horrible moments.

  Moments that make up a life.

  Five of them.

  One, two, three, four, five.

  Some I loved.

  Some I hated.

  One that hasn’t happened yet.

  My advice?

  Watch out for them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  DELLA

  * * * * * *

  2018

  “STOP,” I COMMANDED, slipping from the tent and stretching out the kinks in my spine. My entire body felt used and abused and oh-so-delicious.

  Sex was my new favourite activity.

  And I wanted a second round immediately.

  But first…there was something that’d been bugging me since I saw Ren bathe in the river that first night.

  “Why?” Ren turned to face me, his t-shirt dangling in his hands, low-slung cargo shorts already hiding the parts of him I wanted to explore. “What’s happened?”

  Padding barefoot toward him, I ran my fingers along the visible ribs interrupting the perfect shadows of strong stomach muscles. “I’ve wanted to ask you for the past week. When did you lose all this weight?” My heart clenched, suddenly terrified. “You’re not sick, are you?”

  He cupped my chin softly, his gaze molten caramel mixed with coffee. “No, I’m not sick.” His hair was longer, teasing his forehead with sable bronze thanks to summer turning the strands light.

  I could stare at his perfect face with its strong nose, powerful jaw, and thick eyelashes for an eternity and still find things to love about it. “Then why can I see your ribs?”

  “Because I didn’t exactly have an appetite when I left you.”

  I accepted his fleeting kiss before he let me go to sling his black t-shirt over his head, hiding the skinniness that wasn’t there before. To be fair, he hadn’t eaten as much as he normally did these days. I’d put it down to the sexual tension between us and the fact that my own belly was tied up with string.

  But I didn’t like seeing Ren skinny. I didn’t like feeling as if I hadn’t taken adequate care of him.

  Following him as he wandered around camp, I asked, “You’re saying you didn’t eat the entire time we were apart?”

  “I’m saying love was cruel, and my mind fixated on other things.” He stopped and faced me. “I didn’t want food, Della. I wanted you.”

  My skin burned with pleasure.

  I knew it shouldn’t, but in a way, that made me feel better. I hadn’t forgiven him yet for leaving me, or for stalking me for months and not letting me know he was back in our apartment.

  Three months we wasted.

  Three long, horrible months where I lived unhappily with David, unable to stop the sensation that Ren was close by, all while he crashed in our apartment alone.

  “Is it bad if I say you deserved it?”

  He chuckled, running his hands through his hair. “Is it wrong that I love hearing you say that?”

  “Say that I’m glad you suffered?”

  “I deserved to suffer.” He gave me a rueful smile. “I made you suffer by breaking my promise and leaving.”

  “We both know why you did.”

  “Yes, and I was selfish. I was only thinking of myself. I didn’t know how to deal with what I felt for you, and I was weak enough to run.” He coughed a little then gathered me in a hug filled with electricity and desire.

  His soft lips pressed a kiss to my hairline. “Never again, Little Ribbon. You’re stuck with me.”

  “And you’re stuck with me.” My smile faltered a little—just a flicker—but enough for Ren to frown.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes, just…you’re okay, right? You’re happy and healthy and you’ll put on weight again and stop that little cough you do sometimes?”

  He grinned. “I love it when you care.”

  I swatted him. “I care all the time.”

  He nodded, falling serious. “Look, I had the flu while we were apart and I haven’t fully shaken the cough, that’s all. And as for putting on weight, I’ve already filled out. You make my appetite come back because I need all the energy I can to keep you satisfied.”

  My cheeks pinked. “You kept me satisfied well enough last night.”

  His chocolate gaze turned dark and rich. “You too.” He licked his lips. “Last night was…” He sighed with a little huff of indescribable bliss. It made my stomach flutter and heart leap for joy. “It was amazing, Della.”

  He kissed me again, distracting me from another niggling question.

  He noticed, nipping my bottom lip before pulling away with a resigned look. “Something else?”

  “Umm…” I shrugged. “I need to ask you something.”

  His frown spread. “Ask me.”

  “I know we’re both surviving on no sleep with no small amount of shock for what we’ve done but...”

  “But…”

  “Well, after fighting your feelings for me for so long. Now we’ve, eh, crossed those boundaries, are you still happy?” I ducked my gaze. “Are you happy you—”

  “Ah, Della.” Scooping me into strong arms, he rested his chin on my head. “I was honest with how I struggled to come to terms with loving you this way, and now, I’ll be honest again.” His voice dropped to a smoky murmur. “For the first time, I don’t care about any of it. I can stand here with my head proud and tell the sun to go guilt-trip someone else for a change. Last night was the best night of my life with the only person I have ever loved. As far as I’m concerned, it was the first time for both of us. No one else compares because no one else ever came close to how I feel about you. And now that I know who you are beneath that bossy, brilliant girl I raised, you’re in trouble because having you once won’t be enough. Having you twice or three times or even a lifetime will never be enough, do you hear me?”

  Pulling back, he stared as deep as he could into my heart. “I’m not just in love with you, Della. You’re the only reason I’m alive. Loving you gave me purpose. And now you’ve completed me by giving me something I never dared dream of, so to answer your question, yes, I’m happy. So fucking happy I’m going to explode.”

  I shivered in his arms. “Okay then. Good.”

  “Fine.” He grinned.

  I raised my chin, my eyes fixating on his beautiful lips. “You know…after a declaration like that, you can’t expect me not to want to get you back into bed.” Standing on my tiptoes, I brushed a soft kiss on his mouth. “Take me into the tent, Ren.”

  He groaned, “Don’t tempt me. It was hard enough untangling myself from you this morning.”

  Last night—after we’d orgasmed and slowly realised the enormity of what we’d done half-undressed, smeared in mud, and scratched with leaves in the middle of an empty forest—we’d petted and stroked and laughed at the sudden glorious freedom of being together.

  That dazzling freedom drenched us in a high that made us shake and laugh and giggle like silly children as Ren pulled free, disposed of the condom, then plucked me from the gound.

  The river was too shallow to swim, but we were able to wash off the stickiness and wilderness before eating a simple dinner of roasted fish, then snuggling up like we always did in the tent that took forever to put up, thanks to him grabbing me or me kissing him with our constant need to be close.

  It was the best day of my life, but for some reason, we couldn’t fall asleep. Too in awe of what had happened, too afraid that if we closed our eyes, we’d wake and it would all be a dream.

  All night, Ren cupped my breast, rocked his front into my back, and wrapped his leg around mine. Our touches were allowed to be sexual. We were allowed to include our bodies as well as our hearts.

  By the time dawn stole the midnights of darkness
and used a different palate of shell-pinks and mandarin-golds, Ren and I were well and truly smitten.

  Thank God, no one else was around because we were completely wrapped up in each other to the point of eye rolling.

  “We have nowhere to be. No deadlines. No appointments. Why can’t we just have sex for the rest of our lives?”

  Ren chuckled, warming my heart with its husky melodic sound. “Because you didn’t let me prepare. You pounced on me yesterday, remember?”

  “I did nothing of the sort.” I smirked, knowing full well that when I’d found that small clearing, I couldn’t hold off the urgency anymore. The tingling, sparkling urgency that had steadily grown from painful to excruciating.

  If Ren hadn’t given in last night, I very well might’ve attacked him against his will.

  “You won last night, Little Ribbon. Now you have to do what I say.” Throwing me a heated look, he commanded, “Help me pack up camp. We’re heading down river where the current isn’t so fast and it’s deeper to swim.”

  I followed him as he pulled the sleeping bags from the tent and started to roll them up. “And then what?”

  He threw me a cheeky, deliciously dirty look. “And then, it’s my turn.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  REN

  * * * * * *

  2018

  DELLA HAD CHANGED my world.

  And now, I wanted to change hers.

  As we strode through the fading light to yet another campsite, I spotted a natural clearing where no sun was welcome, and no trees grew.

  The river babbled in the distance, glistening in the twilight with invitation to wash away our exhaustion and relax. It wasn’t as loud or as swift as our last stop. The surface calm and serene instead of choppy and chaotic.

  The small cuts and grazes from sex last night marked Della’s creamy skin as she strode ahead of me, her backpack heavy, boots crunching purposely, unaware I’d made my choice.

  I wanted to feel bad about hurting her, but all I felt was absolute satisfaction and weird male pride.

  “Stop,” I said quietly hiding a cough as I slipped my bag to the ground and once again became bombarded by the tingling, incinerating chemistry that’d set up a constant vigil between us.