Page 108 of Vengeful Guard

As soon as we get to the house, she heads right up to her bedroom, telling me to wake her up in four hours for lunch.

I knock on her door softly at lunchtime to wake her, and she comes to the door with puffy eyes, blinking up at me.

Only me and Paige indulge in lunch because Gray and Declan are out picking up a shipment, and Lara, of course, is at the hospital.

Marisol is sniffling as she puts out the meal—grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup.

“Patrick always loved my tomato soup,” she says brokenly, and Paige takes her hand.

“He's going to be okay." Paige sounds so sure, but I’m not as convinced. I’ve heard that the longer someone is on a ventilator, the harder it is for them to come off it.

Marisol nods, leaving the room, and I can imagine she’s crying in the kitchen.

She and Patrick have become close—maybe too close—and she’s taking this as hard as the rest of his family.

Paige moves listlessly around the house for a while before going to bed early, around nine in the evening. I frown as she heads up the stairs, but I let her go, staying downstairs and watching television.

I’m not really watching, though. I’m thinking about Paige, how she might be sobbing in her room, breaking down, and I’m not there to hold her.

After a couple of hours, I can’t stand it, and I decide I need to take a peek into her room. Just to make sure she’s okay.

I pop my head in, and Paige lets out a thin, reedy scream, sitting straight up.

I rush inside, shutting the door and climbing into bed with her, wrapping her in my arms. “It’s all right. It’s me. It’s me, princess.”

Paige, stiff before, melts into my arms, tilting her head up, and before I can pull away, she presses her lips to mine, sliding her tongue into my mouth.

I should push her away. I should tell her that we can’t do this, not here, but I can’t seem to make myself move. All I can do is kiss her back while she pants into my mouth, putting her hands on my waistband.

I’m already half-hard underneath the fabric, and she slides her hand underneath, gripping me with her small fingers.

I let out a low groan against her lips, and then her mouth is moving to my throat, my collarbone. She drags her teeth across my skin.

“Paige. Paige?—”

I should tell her we have to stop. I should tell her that we’re in her father’s house, in her childhood bedroom, that anyone can hear us.

But she has my cock in her hand, and it feels so good when she starts to pump her fist.

I can’t breathe for a moment, and then I gasp in air, pushing her down onto the bed and pulling off her gown. It’s a little slip of a thing, anyway, and I toss it to the floor as she impatiently pulls up my shirt.

I reach to take it off with one hand, and her palms spread across my chest.

I’m panting already, and Paige’s breaths are coming in short gasps as I put my hand on her breast.

Shoving down my sweats, I free myself from the fabric as I lean down to kiss her, palming across her nipple.

She moans quietly against my throat as I can’t help but push inside her, spreading her thighs with one of my own.

I can’t wait.

She’s arching her back, her nipples pebbled under my hand, and I want her so bad I can’t stand it anymore.

I work myself into her, and at first, she’s not quite wet enough. but the slide becomes easier as I work her nipple between my fingers.

“Kael,” she whispers, rolling her hips up to meet my every thrust.

“I’m not going to last like this, princess,” I gasp. “You’re so fucking tight.”

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