Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(90)

“Do you exist?” She looked up to his knowing gaze.

“I’m right here, aren’t I?” He caressed down her arm to take her hand.

Warmth surrounded her palm as his enclosed hers in safety. “You know what I mean.”

He nodded. “I do know. I exist, and I’ll make a statement to the police about Detective Norton.”

She eyed him. “All right.”

Smoothly, he grasped her waist and lifted her to sit astride him.

Startled, she pressed both palms to his ripped chest. “Do not tear out those stitches.”

“I won’t.” Determination and desire commingled in his eyes, turning them as intense as the raging sky outside. “Now we need a quick chat about who fights psycho killers and who. . . does . . . not.”

“You were in danger, so I did what I had to do,” she returned, lowering her chin.

“I told you to stay safe, and I don’t like repeating myself.”

Her lips quirked, and she settled more comfortably across his hard thighs, her knees sinking into the bed. “Neither do I,” she said softly, leaning closer and nipping across his lips.

He didn’t move a muscle but somehow took over the kiss, going deep and taking control. By the time he let her take in air, her head swam, and her body thrummed.

After almost losing him, she realized how much she wanted to stay with him. “Let’s reach a compromise on the other issue. How about neither one of us ever deals with psychotic killers?”

He grinned, his lips moving against hers and providing all sorts of delicious tingles. “While I like that thought, just in case, let’s agree that I handle danger and you don’t.” Before she could protest, he continued, “I’m trained, sweetheart. By everyone from martial arts experts to former soldiers to street fighters . . . I’ve trained hard. It’s my job, not yours.”

If he was in danger and she had a chance to help him, she would. “Ryker, I’m fine. The plan worked.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair and twisted. Her head lifted, and erotic pain tingled around her scalp. “You’re not listening to me,” he rumbled.

“I’m listening but not agreeing,” she breathed.

“If anything happened to you, my heart would just be cut out for good.” He pulled her to him and kissed her, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth.

His sweet words warmed her heart while his deep kiss heated her a lot farther south. She moaned into his mouth and pushed closer, flattening out atop him like a kitten stretching on a boulder.

He rolled them over, his body bracketing hers, his kiss stealing everything she was and would ever be. She kissed him back, caressing his flanks, careful to stay away from his bandages. Hard ridges and smooth muscle filled her palms, and she marveled at the strength. So much power right beneath her fingertips.

Pushing up, he tugged his shirt over her head. “So pretty,” he murmured, kissing along her jawline. “Smooth as silk and twice as fragile.”

She arched up into him, her eyes closing, as his lips teased hers again.

With him, everything feminine inside her rushed to the surface—soft and powerful all at once. She melted beneath his kiss, her body settling with definite welcome. “Ryker. I was so scared you’d be hurt,” she whispered.

“Never.” He lifted up again and looked at her, his breath hot as he smoothly kicked off his sweats. “Trust me, Zara. I’ve survived the worst already. But you have to trust me and stay out of danger. Please.”

If there was danger, of any kind, she’d fight it with him. “I do trust you.” It was all she could give.

His broad hands trembled as he cupped her cheeks with reverent grace. “So much beauty and intelligence,” he murmured, almost to himself, sounding thoughtful. He caressed along her jaw and down her neck, pressing against the pulse point rapidly pounding for him.

Her thighs trembled beneath his. He slid one muscled knee up, spreading her legs. Then he leaned over her, his mouth taking her again. A claiming. She could sense it—something different in Ryker, something possessive and hot. He took her mouth. No mercy, no gentleness.

Ryker Jones completely unleashed.

Jolts of pleasure shot through her, and she returned his kiss, raising her knees on either side of his hips. He slowly invaded her, pushing inside, the crest of his cock unrelenting as it stretched her. She gasped against his mouth, her body arching into the hard planes of his.

He gave no quarter, stroking inside her, each push going deeper. Every hitch stoked the fire inside her, pulsing sensitive nerves alive. The primal movements and the raw tension swelling through the room trapped her as surely as his kiss. Only Ryker could bring this to her. She softened beneath him, taking all that he gave and letting him have all of her.

He paused as if sensing her submission. Then, with a deep growl, he started to pound. Deep and full, he filled her, over and over again, his thrusts deliberate and complete.

She broke first, crying out his name, shutting her eyes against sparks of color. She bucked, almost violently, her body wracked with wave upon wave of fierce pleasure. He hammered harder, his breath ragged, and shuddered as he came.

“Ryker,” she murmured, her eyelids already closing. She caressed down his back to his butt and smiled. “Mine.” With that one last, satisfying word, she drifted into sleep.