Reign of Wrath (Dirty Broken Savages #3)(92)

Priest’s eyes are intent, seeing everything the way they always have, but there’s nothing I don’t like about that now. It’s not the same way he used to look at me, like he was trying to see through me and find something, anything, that would give him a reason to make good on his threats to kill me.

Now he’s just... looking.

Because he wants to.

Because he likes what he sees.

We stand there in silence for a bit, just letting the shower water take away some of the aches and pains of the fight we were in tonight.

Priest is the most banged up for sure, but I can feel the aftermath of my fight with Julian as I stand there. There’s an ache in my neck where he tried to strangle me, and I have bruises on my body from where we slammed each other into the concrete floor.

That tiredness is even more apparent with the heat of the shower soaking into my muscles and bones, but I keep myself from giving in to it just yet.

After a few moments of silence, Priest speaks up.

“I’ve been wanting to do that with you for so long,” he says, his voice soft. “I was afraid, and that was holding me back. But in that warehouse, watching you fight Julian and not being able to help you…” He shakes his head, shuddering a little as if the very thought of it is horrible to him. “I had so much regret that I let fear hold me back from doing the things I wanted to do. From showing you how I feel about you.”

“There’s nothing to regret,” I tell him, my throat going tight. “Even if… if things had gone differently with Julian, and we’d never gotten a chance for anything more, I already knew how you felt about me. I know. You show me every day, in so many little ways.”

Priest blinks, as if he’s surprised by my words. I think sometimes he still sees himself as cold and closed-off, the unreadable man of ice. But the truth is, that’s not who he is anymore. He’s still outwardly less expressive than the other men, and that will probably never change. But in bits and pieces, in small moments and little gestures, he’s let me see who he is.

And even though I’ve been dying for him to fuck me, dying to feel that connection with him, it’s not because I didn’t know how he felt about me.

I just… wanted him.

I still do.

Resting my hands lightly on his chest, I tilt my head up, going up onto my toes a little as I find his lips with my own.

The kiss deepens, and we both lean into it, giving it all we’ve got.

He’s hurt, and I don’t want to make it worse, so I try to pull away from him. But he won’t let me. He wraps his arms around me, keeping me close.

“I need you, River,” he murmurs, and I can hear the truth of it ringing in his words. “I need you so fucking much.”

My body responds to that immediately, humming with the same desire. We just fucked in that warehouse, but that was different. That was desperation and fear driving us to prove to each other that we were still alive and okay.

This is something else entirely.

Something deeper and more deliberate.

A choice, not just an instinctual reaction to almost losing each other.

We wash up quickly, running our hands over each other’s bodies as we do. Priest doesn’t even flinch when I touch his wounds, so caught up in putting his hands on me, touching and kissing every inch of skin he can reach.

We end up on the bed once we’re out of the shower and dried off, and I help Priest lie down on his back so he won’t have to move too much and put strain on his body. Once he’s situated, I crawl up and straddle him.

He’s hard again, fully hard. His cock juts out from between his legs, flushed and already wet at the tip. And it’s all for me. I lick my lips and smirk, settling myself over him so I can feel that hard heat against my pussy.

Priest groans, clearly wanting more, but I don’t give in just yet. I tease him, dragging my pussy along his hard length but not taking him inside.

His cock pulses against me, getting even thicker, and I fucking love that.

I can’t keep up the teasing for very long, though. Not when my body is crying out for him, my pussy throbbing and clenching and too empty.

I steady his cock with one hand and lower myself down over it, putting him inside me.

“Fuck,” Priest groans. He tips his head back against the pillow and closes his eyes, breathing raggedly. It doesn’t seem like he’s in pain, just still getting used to having his cock inside me, and I give him a little time before I start to move.

“You feel so good inside me,” I tell him. “I’ve been waiting so long to feel this. To feel you. Fuck. I needed it so bad, Priest.”

His eyes open, and the usual pale blue color is dark and intense.

We hold each other’s gazes as I start to move, rising and falling on his cock, taking him all the way down each time. His hands go to my waist, holding on, and his lips part on a moan.

He looks so fucking good like this. Letting himself go, not holding anything back.

“River…” He moans my name, sounding almost delirious.

“I’m here,” I tell him. I put my hands on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart under my palm. “I’m right here with you.”

He nods, a jerky motion that he punctuates by rolling his hips upward.

“I’ll never get enough,” he pants. “Never. There’s never enough of this. Of you.”