Island of Glass (The Guardians Trilogy #3)(55)

Bran simply took her hand. “She’ll be fine for now. Let’s get cleaned up, have a beer, and let them . . . tend each other for the moment.”

“Clean up. Good idea.” Sawyer grabbed Annika’s hand.

“Oh, we’re going to have sex, too.”

Laughing, Bran wrapped his arms around Sasha. “Sounds brilliant,” he said, and winked her straight up to bed.

Doyle ignored the bed. The minute he kicked the terrace door closed, he spun around, slapped Riley’s back to the wall.

“No frills, you said.”

“Not necessary.” She took his mouth again, added a testing bite as she fought to remove his sword and sheath.

She wanted flesh, the scent, the taste, the feel of it, and let the sheath fall with a thud so she could drag off his shirt and find it.

He’d already found her, his hands streaking under her sweatshirt to close around her breasts. Big, rough hands—exactly what she was after.

But more, more, she wanted penetration. Wanted invasion, hot and hard. The unspeakable thrill of life after near death.

He had grazes and nicks of his own. Together they smelled of war—of blood and sweat and battle.

Impatient, he didn’t pull her shirt off, but hooked his fingers where it was torn and ripped it—or most of it—away. The violence of the act, the rending, pumped through her blood, had her fighting with his belt as he dragged at hers.

Need growled in her throat, tied quivering knots in her belly.

He yanked her jeans over her hips, and then—thank God then—drove ferociously into her.

A pause, a beat, a breath. Absorbing the shock, the glory, and once again her eyes met his.

Held his while her breath tore through her lungs, while he plundered. She came in a torrent, release, blessed release, then fisted her hands in that thick hair, let him whip her up again while she pumped against him to take him in turn.

When it struck her again, the hot lash of a whip, she felt his body shudder as he fell with her.





CHAPTER TWELVE




She didn’t have to hold on. She was trapped between his body and the wall, still suspended off the floor. But she held on anyway. After a flight like that, she wasn’t at all sure she wouldn’t just spin off like a dust mote.

The fast and the furious, she thought, more than pleased. And a job damn well done. The fact that he was winded added an extra layer of satisfaction.

She took pride in her work, after all.

Since she was holding on for a bit longer, she explored the muscles of his back. Speed had eliminated some of the finer details. And he had a really exceptional back. A really fine chest, too, which was currently pressed hard—a rippling steel door—against hers.

In fact, on a strictly physical level, she’d never seen a finer specimen, much less had one. Bonus points, she decided, and at last opened her eyes to find his on hers.

“Nice work, Sir Studly. Let me know when you want to put me down.”

He managed to hold her in place and hitch his pants back up. Turning, still carrying her, he walked to the bed, dropped them both.

She let out an oof. The exceptional physical specimen had some weight to him.

“Sorry.” He rolled off, lay flat on his back a moment. “No frills,” he said again.

“Do I strike you as the frilly sort?”

“You don’t, but there are certain details . . . I didn’t think, wasn’t thinking, about protection.”

“Right. I’ve recently broken an over-eight-month fast. I’m clean. I assume the same goes.”

“I’m immune to any sort of disease or disorder. There are other reasons for protection.”

“I use LARC—long-acting reversible contraception. Not to worry.”

“Good.”

She looked down at herself, and the tattered remains of her shirt. “I liked this sweatshirt.”

“It was ruined anyway. And you didn’t complain at the time.”

“At the time I was a little wound up, and ripping clothes adds to it. Just saying, I liked it.”

Gone now, she thought, and pulled away what was left. “I’m going to want to borrow something until I can change. Not that everybody doesn’t know what we just did, but I hold the line at flashing Sawyer or Bran.”

“Borrow what you need.” He rolled up to pull off his boots, glanced back over his shoulder. Turned the glance into a long study as she lay bare, with her jeans still caught around her knees.

“You lost some weight.”

“I’ll get it back.”

“You will. You have a strong, agile body. Compact, efficient.”

Amused, she fluttered her lashes. “Girls love to hear how efficient their bodies are.”

“It’s a compliment when it comes to war and warriors. I’ve wanted it. Wanted you.”

“Same goes—except for the compact part. You’re just ripped.”

“I’m going to want you again.”

“That works for me. In fact.” She sat up to untie her high-tops. “Why don’t we go another round after you have a little recovery time.”

“I heal, and recover, quickly.”

“Even better, so . . .” Her eyebrows shot up as he stood to remove his pants. “Oh, well. Hello.” Laughing, she tossed her shoes to the floor. “I bet that’s a benefit to immortality you don’t brood about.”