Page 41 of Her Redeemed Protector

My hand fumbles behind my back, turning the doorknob.

The atmosphere has shifted along with our entry, and it’s not because of the absence of light. My knees brush against the bed’s edge, but we remain standing. Unbuttoning my shirt, I reveal the swell of my breasts spilling out from my bra. It’s been an eternity since I last experienced the touch of a man. I have even forgotten how to become wet from his touch. But with Hux, even the slightest grind of his body against mine turns me on like a flowing tap.

As I brace myself for his advance, Huxley’s grip on me relents, his fingers drifting from the small of my back to cup my chin. His eyes seem to search mine for an answer to a silent question. It’s too dark to be sure, but my gut tightens, fearing that it might be regret I see flickering there.

“Sav…” His voice is a husky murmur, his touch tentative.

Disappointment wells up within me, settling heavily in the hollow of my chest, suggesting the end of our night might be drawing near. My heart responds, pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribcage, a rebellion against the idea of letting go of this moment.

But have I made a mistake? Misinterpreting the tension between us as something more than it was?

15

HUXLEY

I have come prepared, but I never expected it to happen this quickly. My groin is throbbing, and the fiery rush in my blood urges me to be with her immediately. She’s displeased with my hesitation. I can feel it through the tension in her body.

Yet, I must be certain. The notion of sex ruining relationships is not a myth, and I don’t want my connection with Savannah to end before it even has a chance to grow.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” I whisper.

As my eyes adapt, I can faintly discern the expression on her face, indicating that she has been silently encouraging me toward this moment. Why the question?

“Hux, please don’t overthink this.”

I’m not. I guess I need time to check in with myself. Am I doing this for her, or because she reminds me of the woman from my past?

As I take in her beauty and tenacity, my heart answers loud and clear. It’s for Savannah.

“Sav, I’m not only some rancher, ex-SEAL, or Red Mark agent. At the end of the day, I’m a gentleman. I had to ask.”

She tugs at my tie, the silk fabric gliding through her fingers.

I sigh involuntarily. The touch of a woman untying my tie has always been my weakness, yet I’ve always believed that my willpower is stronger than any temptation. But Savannah’s touch goes beyond simply undoing the knot. It unravels me completely. I’m succumbing, my body reacting before my mind can catch up.

She nibbles the bottom of my earlobe, then whispers, “When I said not to overthink it, I meant, please don’t change your mind. I want more than just sex with you. I wantyou.”

A force awakens within me, and it’s not just my cock trying to take over. I’m propelled upward. She doesn’t know it, but she’s inviting me to breathe, to glimpse the radiant light just above the water’s edge.

The sensation drives my lips to slam against hers, our kiss liberating the pent-up energy between us. She savors my impatience as I remove my shirt.

Her eyes widen, sparkling with admiration as she takes in the sight before her. Her fingertips trace fervent lines across my chest and abs, then slow as they glide over my collarbones.

“Just shrapnel scars,” I dismiss her concern.

“It must’ve been painful,” she murmurs, eyes locked on mine as if asking permission. She kisses the random-shaped patches one by one, using her fingertips as her guide to find each scar.

The contact is so delectable. The texture of her fingers, marked by hard work and far from the softness of a princess in a tower, intensifies our connection. Her authenticity is imprinted on me with every stroke.

I’m forced to buckle when she undoes my pants with nimble hands, rubbing my aroused form through the fabric of my underwear.

“I don’t mean to be shallow, but—” I grab her hand, pressing it hard against my swelling balls. “I’ve been fantasizing about you.”

“Have you?” She frees her index finger from the weight of my palm, now trailing around the circumference of my cock crown. “In a healthy way?”

“Not really.” The things I’d like to do to her nipples, her lips, her pussy. And my most favored flight of fancy, watching her excite herself. I haven’t thought about a woman that way for… I really can’t remember.

She attempts to restrain a smile. “That does sound shallow,” she delivers her verdict. “You’re forgiven. But tonight, just so you know, I don’t do shallow.”

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