Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(31)

The sense of unexpected vulnerability, one he hadn’t felt since he was a kid, loosened something dark inside him. He grasped her arm and tugged up, winding his fingers through hers and pressing her hand to the mattress. His other hand secured her hip, and he pulled out only to shove back in. Hard.

She arched her back, revealing the long line of her neck.

“This is what you wanted, right?” He pulled out and started pounding into her, knocking the headboard against the wall. By the time he was through with her, she was going to want so much more. She had to.

“Yes,” she breathed, her thighs tightening against him. Her fingers wrapped around his, and her hold strengthened.

So he gave it to her, not holding back, hammering inside her until her sex began to quiver around him. Then he slowed down and stopped, balls deep, inside her.

Sweat dotted her forehead. She blinked at him, fine tremors going through her that he could actually feel. “Ryker?” The hoarse tenor of her voice almost made him come right then and there.

“I think we’re more than this.” Although this was pretty damn good.

Her head fell back onto the pillow, and her hips rolled against him. He flattened his hand across her ass, pulling her closer to him, somehow forcing himself even deeper inside her. Electricity shot through his balls. A groan rumbled up from his chest.

She tried to move again, and he prevented her. Her eyes darkened, and her womb convulsed around him. Someday he wanted to tie her up. Based on her reactions, she’d f*cking love it. For now, holding her where he wanted her was enough to nearly send her over. So he held perfectly still and made sure she did the same.

He forgot about her one hand still on his butt.

The nails dug in while challenge—oh, that was definitely challenge—filled her stunning blue eyes. She did something with her internal muscles that gripped his cock stronger than any vise. Ecstasy blasted through him.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” he gritted out. “Later.” It was way too late now.

Holding her tight, impressed as hell with the dangerous woman, he pulled out and shoved back in, setting up a hard rhythm that had her gasping. She went over first, waves crashing through her body to undulate around him. Sparks, flying fast, ripped down his spine to his testicles.

He dug his face into her neck, his entire body shuddering as he came.

Slowly, his heart rate calmed down. He chuckled against her damp neck as she relaxed beneath him. Now, that hadn’t gone exactly according to plan.

Yep. Definitely a dangerous woman. He had to keep her—it was too late to turn back now. The sense of possession gripped him hard, compressing his lungs. Slowly, muscle by muscle, he released the tension. That was that, then.

*



Zara’s body turned to mush, and her hand slid from Ryker’s ass to the bed. Her other one was trapped beneath his, but right now she didn’t really care. Her eyelids fluttered shut.

“Oh no.” He pressed harder inside her, sending quakes throughout her abdomen.

She lifted one eyelid, beyond exhausted. “Tired.”

“Talk.”

“No.” She wiggled a little beneath him. Her excitement had ebbed, but the guy was apparently still semi-hard inside her. “You’re an impressive man, Ryker.” She yawned.

“Jesus.” He withdrew and shoved from the bed to pad toward the bathroom, masculine irritation deepening his tone.

God, she loved that tattoo. Fierce and strong, a wild bird decorated his right shoulder with its wings spread and rising out of fire. Two intricate Bs combined in the center. She’d asked once what it meant, and he’d shrugged.

She smiled as she shimmied her butt up, grabbed the bedclothes, and slid beneath cool, clean sheets. A small groan of pure pleasure erupted from her, and she stretched before curling onto her side. A minute later, the bed shifted, and warmth enclosed her.

“What do the Bs stand for?” she mumbled.

“Blood brothers,” he said against her hair. “We thought we’d name the agency that, but we don’t want it traced, so we went with Lost Bastards.”

“Blood brothers?” she murmured, realization dawning. “The scars on your hands?”

“Yeah. We didn’t have family, so the three of us created one with an old knife and blood.”

“How old were you?” She blinked. They’d created their own brotherhood. There was so much more to know about him.

“Twelve. I’ll tell you more tomorrow,” he whispered, sounding drowsy.

How sad and sweet at the same time. “Tomorrow sounds good.” She snuggled right into Ryker’s hard warmth and fell into dreamland.

The dream caught her around the neck and threw her into the past.

She was ten years old, humming quietly in the backseat of her mother’s clunky car on the way to yet another farmers’ market, this one in northern Washington State. She liked the trees and wildlife in Washington, and hopefully her mother would stay with this boyfriend for a while before they moved on again.

Well, usually the boyfriend moved on. Sometimes with screams and shouts, and sometimes in the dark of night…while taking any money they’d found. But Chuck seemed like a nice guy, even though he had three cats, four dogs, and a llama. Who the heck had a llama?

Lightning flashed outside, and Zara frowned, peering out the wet window. “I forgot my umbrella,” she muttered, patting her nice and dry jeans. She’d learned early to plan for herself.