by Marie Meyer
Gently, I slide my hands under her backside and beneath her legs, scooping her off the counter and into my arms. She nuzzles the crook of my neck, kissing her way to my ear. “My room is down the hall, second door on the left.”
A growl rumbles in my chest and I turn my head, seizing her mouth, kissing her senseless as I stalk toward the bedroom.
The door’s open and I walk in, oblivious to everything but her. I set her down on the bed, unwilling to give up her mouth. She lies back and I cover her with my body.
Wasting no time, Ren tugs at my shirt, pulling it from my pants, and slipping her hands beneath. Her hot fingers touch my skin and my abs flex in response, while other parts of my body ache for her attention.
This is a first, a side of Ren I’ve never seen, confident, demanding, and sexy as fucking hell. I’m tempted to sit up and rip my shirt off, Hulk-style—buttons popping and flying in all directions—to give her better access, but like I told her before, she’s in control.
Sitting up, Ren beneath me, I work my way down, fitting each button through its hole, revealing myself to her. I shrug the shirt off and toss it to the ground, basking in the glow of Ren’s lustful gaze.
“Cayden,” she says, praying my name. Her fingers hover over my stomach, like she’s afraid I’ll disappear, or burst into flames, if she touches me.
I wrap my hands around hers and bend, kissing the inside of each of her wrists. “Sweetheart, I’m yours.” Let me be your superhero. Let me go to war with your unspoken nightmares.
I place a kiss on her palms and guide them to my torso. “Touch me, Ren.” Fanning her fingers against the planes of my chest, she inches her hands downward, her fingertips dipping into the cuts of my muscles.
“What’s this?” she asks, fingering the tattoo inked at my side.
“A reminder of what I am. Always faithful. Always a Marine.” I run my fingers over and between hers, the emblem of the United States Marine Corps beneath our hands.
She lifts off the bed, puts her hands on my chest and pushes me back. I fall onto the mess of pillows stacked against the headboard, thinking this is the end of our tryst, but as always, Ren surprises me, swinging her legs over my body, straddling me.
Leaning over, she kisses me quickly. “Cayden Sinclair”—she trails kisses down my jaw…my neck—“you are the sexiest man alive.”
More kisses. Down my chest, her tongue slipping between her lips every so often, catching a taste of my skin…swirling around my nipple.
My breath comes rapid fire. “I have no idea what you just said, but keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart.”
Her mouth moves southward, licking across my tattoo. My hands twitch at my sides, wanting to touch her and my dick throbs.
Trailing her tongue lower, she plants tiny kisses at my navel and her hands move to my belt buckle.
“Ren,” I breathe. “Are you sure? I need you to be absolutely sure.”
She straightens, locking her eyes on mine. “Abso-fucking-lutely,” she affirms, popping the button of my fly open and lowering the zipper.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
My hands are on her, under her skirt, working their way to her center. I’m shocked when I feel lace between her legs. “A thong. Nice.” I palm her bare ass, giving it a playful smack.
She shimmies and flashes a sex-kitten smirk. “You like?”
“What do you think?” I raise my hips, pressing my raging hard-on between her legs. I’m twenty-five and I’m going to die of a fucking heart attack. This girl will be my end, my kryptonite. “This”—I trace a finger over the thin slip of fabric rounding her hip—“is sexy as hell.” I drop my hand between her legs again, rubbing my finger over her panties. She’s so wet.
She grinds against my hand. “Please, Cayden,” she begs.
I pull her panties aside and run my finger along her slick folds. “Oh God!” she whimpers, throwing her head back. “Cayden!” Her body gyrates on my hand.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Take what you want.”
As she moves, her body picks up rhythm, and I press my thumb against her sweet spot and slip a finger inside her…two fingers.
“Cayden, I’m going to come,” she breathes, bringing herself home on my fingers.
“Go ahead, sweetheart, then I’m going to make you come again.”
Her face flushes and a gasp catches in her throat. Ren in the throes of ecstasy is the most gorgeous sight I’ve ever seen. “That’s it, Ren.”
Breathless, she collapses on top of me. Pulling my hand free, I roll us, putting her beneath me, and brush her sweaty hair off her face. I need to see her, drink in her glow.
My desire for this girl goes beyond physical. Her smile, her laugh, the healing touch of her fingers on my skin, the way she comes to life when our bodies unite, with no effort, she sets my world right again. In such a short time, she’s taken my battle-torn soul and weaved it back together, stitching herself into the pattern.
I’m not me without her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ren
That was fucking amazing! That was just his hand? He is a goddamn superhero. Captain America and Iron Man have got nothing on this guy! I stare up at him. “Make love to me, Cayden.” I tug at the sides of his pants, eager to have him inside me.
I don’t have to ask twice. Cayden stands, plucks his wallet from his back pocket and withdraws a foil packet. Oh, thank God, he’s prepared. Even though there’s no risk of getting pregnant, I still have issues with unprotected sex.
Dropping the wallet, pants, and boxers into a heap on the floor, he climbs back on top of me and runs his fingers through my hair. “Ren, I want this with you.”
“I want this, too.” My eyes travel south, over his massive erection. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to see a penis, and good God, am I glad I waited. Super-friggin-man!
Planting my hands on his laddered abdomen, I smooth my fingertips over each delicious muscle. Damn. He’s a breathing piece of artwork. His muscles quake, rippling beneath the dark hair that points the way to his dick. I trace that line.
He exhales, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
I continue my descent, lightly brushing my fingers over him. His hips jerk and his head snaps forward, locking his gaze on mine. “I fucking love this dress, but it has got to come off.”
He lifts the sides up and I sit forward, allowing him to undress me. Running his hands over my breasts, he moves around back, flips the hooks on my bra and eases the straps down, freeing me.
Another article of clothing lands in the heap on the floor.
“God, you are beautiful.” Reverently, he bows his head, kissing the valley between my breasts, paying attention to every inch of my skin.
Lightning strikes, it’s a bolt crashing through my body, setting a fire ablaze between my legs.
His fingers, his tongue…is there any part of this man that isn’t pure magic? Nah. I think not.
I arch my back, giving my body over to him. I want him to consume me, become part of me. He’s already discovered parts of me I thought were lost forever, and now, he’s writing his name on my soul like on a log from a geocache.
Cayden leans down, his body weight pressing me into the mattress. He captures my mouth with his, biting at my lower lip. “Ren…” I love when he grinds out my name, his voice thick with longing.
I’m ready. More than ready. I lift my ass off the bed, his dick pressing between my thighs.
“Fuck,” he moans, pushing against me, harder.
I yank the sides of my black thong down. Cayden sits up, rips open the condom, slides it on, and is back on top of me. His green eyes are stormy with concern and even in the darkness of the room, I can see the muscle in his jaw ticking, contemplating his next move.
It’s time to calm his fears and put an end to mine. Reaching up, I place both my hands on each side of his face. “I want this, Cayden. I know you won’t hurt me. I trust you.”
In one glorious thrust, he’s inside m
e.
For a beat, neither of us moves. Our eyes lock together in silent communication. Me, reclaiming what I thought I’d lost all those years ago—taking back my control. Cayden, he just watches me, searching for any sign that I’m going to push him away again.
I raise my hips, pushing him in farther. Testing my boundaries. It’s okay. I’m okay. I exhale, breathing easy for once, getting comfortable with my body again. I want this.
I want my actions to speak for me. I want to show him that I’m with him, body and soul.
Relaxing my hips, I sink back down on the mattress, Cayden sliding out just a little.
He inhales sharply and bites his lower lip. The struggle not to move is visible, written in the taught lines on his face. He’s holding back with every fiber of his being, giving me the control, just like he promised.
Placing my hands on the back of his head, his shorn hair tickling my palms, I bring his face to mine, and whisper in his ear, “Make love to me, Cayden.”
Needing no more reassurance, with one large exhale, he sinks back into me, giving into his need for more friction.
Holding me close, he sets a slow, blissful pace, one that I can keep up with. Our bodies move in unison, mine remembering exactly what to do, and how damn amazing sex can be when it’s consensual.
Running his fingers through my hair, Cayden kisses me, his tongue matching the rhythm of the rest of our bodies. I drink him in, tasting his mouth.
Trailing my hands down his spine, feeling the strain of his back muscles each time he pushes into me, I smooth my hands over his ass, pushing against him, forcing further inside. Wanting…needing…more. “Harder. Deeper, please,” I beg, consumed by the growing pressure between my legs.
Cayden obeys, swiveling his hips, grinding into me as picks up the pace. “Ren, you’re so tight…so wet,” he moans against my mouth. “Fucking…God.”
Overcome with desire, he lifts slightly and grabs my hands from behind him. Stretching them up and over my head, he clasps his hand on top both of mine, pinning them to the pillow.
I’m at his mercy, and that’s just fine. I trust him implicitly. I want to give my body to him, watch him come apart because I got him there.
Spreading my legs wider with his, Cayden uses his leverage, pushing in and out of me. In and out. In…out.
In, out. Over and over. “I’m so fucking, close,” he moans, biting my earlobe.
Not lessening his pace, he works his way down my neck and lower. Circling my nipple with his tongue, pinching it between his teeth, he relinquishes my hands, he grabs my breasts, sucking and kneading. “Goddamn, Ren, you are so fucking gorgeous.”
So many emotions…sensations. I’m so close. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow against my chest, along with his hot wet mouth, sends desire pooling between my legs. My hips grind against him, faster. “Don’t…stop,” I breathe.
Oh my God!
“Come for me, baby.”
Trading sides, he gives my left breast some much-needed attention. Hips pumping, he fills me so perfectly.
“Yes! Oh my God! YES!” I cry out. “Don’t. Fucking. Stop.” His dick hits a spot inside me and that’s it, I’m gone. I’m free. A bird riding the air currents, high above the land. Only this time, I’m not alone.
Cayden thrusts harder. And harder. He gives me everything he has, following my order not to stop. “That’s it, come for me.” His mouth is back on mine, his breath becomes my breath. He rocks into me and the pleasure high I’m riding doesn’t stop.
“I…can’t hold—” Two more deep thrusts and Cayden drops his forehead to mine, and growls, “Fuuuuuuck.”
Shoulders heaving, he opens his eyes, staring into mine. “Sorry, baby. I couldn’t hold on any longer,” he sighs, shaking his head against mine. “Did I get you there?” Worry clouds his face. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
My lips pull into a smile. I love that he hasn’t pulled out of me, that we’re still connected so intimately. I bring my hands to his face, smoothing over his sweat-slicked skin. “Oh my God did I come. I’m so far beyond okay, it’s ridiculous.” I giggle, bringing my mouth to his. I want to kiss away his anxiety. “You could never hurt me.”
“Never,” he says, kissing me, pressing his whole body into mine.
I want to stay like this forever, Cayden on top of me, but my lungs burn, begging for air. “Cayd—” I squirm beneath him, breaking my mouth away from his. Lifting his head, he looks down at me. “I. Can’t. Breathe.” I manage to get the words out.
“Oh, shit!” Pushing up, he slides out of me, and rolls onto his back. Throwing his arm over his eyes, I watch his chest rise and fall with each breath. “Trying to suffocate you right after I get finished telling you I’d never hurt you”—he turns his head my direction—“not a good move.”
Boneless and satiated, I giggle again, and snuggle up next to him. “Trust me. I’m cursing the fact that I actually need oxygen, because I did not want you to move.” I drape my arm over his chest and draw lazy circles through the thin dusting of dark hair with the pads of my fingers.
His heartbeat still hasn’t calmed and taps a rhythmic pulse under my hand. Similarly, Cayden’s languid touch on my back and shoulders keeps me being putty in his hands. It’s like the fate of the world rests with us, all of humanity is safe as long as we keep touching one another.
I watch his chest rise and fall with each breath and try to sync mine with his, finding joy in our peaceful existence.
“This is exquisite.” Cayden brushes my side, tracing my tattoo. “This wasn’t some drunken college ink. What’s the story here?”
No one, except for Dylen, has seen my tattoo…and now, Cayden. “A reminder.” I choose his words; the same ones he used to describe his ink.
There’s no way around this conversation. I can’t tell him the significance of my tattoo without letting him in on the darkest part of my history. I don’t want to contaminate our placid corner of the universe by opening the door for pain and sadness, but Cayden needs to know. I want him to know.
He’s quiet, patient, allowing me to gather my thoughts…anchor myself to him, so I don’t get lost in the past. I hug him tightly and he responds in kind, squeezing me closer.
“On the night of my twenty-first birthday, Dylen and I went out to celebrate. We decided to hit up a frat party.” With the one arm I have slung over Cayden’s broad chest, I hold on to him with all I have.
Sensing my growing anxiety, Cayden shifts, sitting up so he can draw me closer. “I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispers in my ear.
I look at him and gather strength from his vivid green eyes. His lips pull up in a gentle smile giving me courage to continue my story.
“Dylen and I were having a fabulous time, dancing, trying different kinds of drinks, it was a great birthday. Then, close to midnight, things changed. I remember sitting on an ugly purple couch, reading a text from Dylen. She’d met some guy and was headed back to his apartment. She didn’t want to leave me, but I insisted, I told her to have fun, not to worry about me. I was going to call my brother to pick me up and take me home, all was good.” I pause, catching my breath…and my courage. “That’s the last thing I remember. The rest of the story is a still a painful mystery.”
“You don’t have to tell me, Ren. Not if you don’t want to. Not if it hurts too much.”
I shake my head, not giving the fucker in my story any power over me. “I do want to.” I need you to know, Cayden, why I’ve been so cautious.
“It’s hazy, but I think someone offered me another drink. In my head, he’s a blurry figure with a voice that’s low and distorted, like the sound in a slow-motion video. The next morning, a vise gripped my temples, trying to squeeze my brain through every orifice of my head. I was alone, in a strange room, on a futon, naked. Whomever that mystery guy was, he slipped something into my drink, I passed out. And he raped me.” It’s taken years of sessions with my therapist to get those words to come out of my mouth, but each time they
do, I feel a little freer.
Cayden stills beside me for a beat before turning me toward him. Settling his hands on my face, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. “Ren.” A mixture of emotions crosses his face…horror…sadness…anger…fear…devotion.
“I don’t remember a thing from that night. Just waking up so scared and alone. It was a long time before I told anyone what happened that night.” Now’s your chance, Ren, tell him the consequence of your silence, that you can’t give him children.
After what we just shared, knowing that we won’t ever get to do that to make a baby together is the saddest, most painful part of my story. Tears puncture my well-composed façade.
Cayden bows his head, pressing our foreheads together. “Ren, sweetheart,” he whispers, prayerfully. Kissing the tip of my nose, he drags his lips to my cheek, catching a falling tear. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”
I pull back and stare at him. “Hurt me? Cayden, I haven’t been with anyone since after that night. I haven’t wanted to. But you”—I grab the sides of his face and force him to listen, to understand what he means to me—“you…with me…I’m not facing the big bad world alone for once. I know I’m safe right here.”
He inhales, drawing my breath into his lungs. Four…five heartbeats pass before he exhales. “I’ve had buddies of mine say they’re fine, then they hear a car door slam, or a clap of thunder, and bam, they’re not fine. They’re lost, thrown back into the war. The smallest trigger sets them off.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to send you back to your nightmare.”
“Cayden,” I say with a little more force. “You can’t. What we shared was amazing. Never once did I leave you. See this”—I point to my tattoo—“they’re bluebirds of happiness. In ancient Chinese culture, the bluebird was said to be a fairy queen, a protector of women. The Navajo believe bluebirds represent the rising sun.” I grab his hand, lifting his index finger to my skin, I guide his finger, making him trace the cursive script that leads to the branch the birds are perched on. R-I-S-E. “I got this tattoo as a reminder that I rise each day with a fresh slate. I rise each day, and like the sun, I get to bring light into this world. I’m a survivor, dammit.” I smile, filled with so much joy right now. “To me, birds symbolize something brighter on the horizon. They would know, from their vantage point, they get to see what’s coming before the rest of us.”
