Run To Me (Lazarus Rising #4)(60)

A rumbling laugh escaped him. “Do I look worried?”

No, he looked sexy. He looked hot.

“Jealousy is supposed to be dangerous for Lazarus subjects,” she reminded him. Not that he needed reminding. She didn’t think he ever forgot anything.

He didn’t move. Just watched her. Waited.

“It makes me feel…less.” But she kept her spine straight. Her shoulders up. “Reva is beautiful, and she’s normal. She doesn’t make fears turn into reality. She doesn’t get shot and wake up when she should be dead. She doesn’t—”

He’d grabbed her and tumbled her onto the bed. Normally, she was the one who moved fast. This time, he’d been faster. “You are never less.” Anger was there. In his voice. In his eyes. On his face. “Don’t ever say it. Don’t ever believe it. You are more than any other woman out there. Never fucking say less.” Then he was kissing her. Kissing her with the frantic need she wanted. The wild rush of lust. The consuming intensity that made her feel—

He wants me. Only me.

He tore off her clothes. Tossed them away. And she was glad. She wanted him wild for her. Wanted to know that this fierce desire he felt was just for her. Not for the lovers from his past. For her.

There wasn’t foreplay. Wasn’t some long seduction. He stripped her. He drove into her. Her legs locked around his hips, and they arched together. Driving for release. Sex to sex. Nothing between them. And it was even hotter than before. Because his gaze was on her. His fingers were locked with hers. His body was driving into her. Every downward thrust of his cock had him sliding over her sensitive clit. The orgasm was building, building, but she didn’t want to come, not yet. She wanted to stay this way, to keep his focus so totally on her, to be linked with him. To be with him.

She wished she could be with him forever.

But Willow couldn’t stop the release. It burst over her, through her, and she held him tight even as she felt the hot rush of his release inside of her. His hips kept thrusting. He kept coming, even as he was kissing her.

Her. The desire he felt was for her. Not the lovers he’d had before. Not any normal woman.

And even when the climax ended, he didn’t withdraw from her. He was still heavy and erect in her, and he just lifted her up. Her legs curled around his hips as he carried her to the bathroom.

“Sweet Willow, you think this happens with just anyone?”

At first, she didn’t understand.

Then he pushed into her, making her shiver.

“Only you, baby. Only you make me need this much.”

They were in the shower. He’d yanked on the water. Steam drifted around them. He was still carrying her. Still in her.

His strength was such a turn-on.

So was his stamina.

He caged her against the wall. One hand was on her hip. The other had slapped against the tile behind her head. “You will never be less.” His eyes glittered down at her. “Don’t you get it yet?”

He withdrew, slid into her. The water beat down on them. Her hands were on his back. Her nails dug into his skin.

“Can’t you…see?”

He withdrew, thrust. Her lips were parted as she tried to suck in desperate gulps of air.

“You think it’s always this way?”

Withdraw, thrust. His long cock slid over her sensitive core.

“Only.” Thrust. “You.”

She was coming again. Willow couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t hold back. She couldn’t—

His eyes stared into her soul. “Fucking.” Thrust. Withdraw. “Love.” Thrust. “You.”

OhmyGod.

***

Willow was dressing. Putting on an outfit that he was sure would drive the men in Wander wild. Of course, the woman could wear a damn potato sack, and he’d still find her sexy.

But then again, Willow was his. He’d protect her, no matter what—or who—came at them.

Jay sat hunched at his computer, his fingers flying over the keys. He didn’t believe in heading into any situation unprepared. The bastard thought he was going to take Willow? That he could destroy Jay?

“Think again,” Jay muttered as his gaze flickered between his two monitors. A faint smile curved his lips.

No one would take Willow. She wouldn’t live her life in fear.

He’d make sure of that.

***

The club was packed. Music and booze flowed freely. The women were dressed to perfection, and the men were ready to pounce.

“Where is the bastard?” Jay demanded. Reva was at his right side, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Willow stood to the left. No nervous movements came from her. Just stillness. Alertness. He knew she was aware of every single person in the place.

Watching. Hunting. That was his Willow.

Flynn Haddox was there, doing the same damn thing that she was. Only he was also blending. So was West. So were half a dozen of Jay’s security team members.

“I don’t see him,” Reva said. She’d stepped up on her tip-toes. “I met him at the bar before. So I thought that’s where he’d be.”

Jay didn’t like this scene. Too out of control. Too many bodies. Too many potential casualties. “If he’s here, then he’s seen me.” Jay had no doubt about it. The guy’s eyes would have been on him the minute he walked into the place.