Page 21 of Salacious Devotion

I inhale her scent and continue stroking her, relishing in the feel of her pussy throbbing against my fingers. If I died right now, I would be far more at peace than two hours ago.

Chapter 7

Dane

* * *

Paige turns in my arms, panting. She reaches for my cock, but I stop her with a hand on her wrist. I bring her palm to my lips and kiss it.

Her brow furrows in the dim light. “Dane…” she says softly.

I suck her middle finger into my mouth and release it with a pop. “Not tonight, baby. You need to sleep. Let me hold you.”

She swallows. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” We have never had a tit-for-tat relationship, and we’re not starting now. I enjoy watching my girl come. It’s so fucking hot that it’s enough for me. Of course, I also like fucking her into tomorrow, but not every time. Sometimes, I just want to absorb her moans and watch her face as she reaches her peak.

I rearrange us so she’s once again spooned against me. I stroke the loose hairs from her cheek and kiss her neck. “Sleep, baby.”

She takes several deep breaths. “You won’t let go of me?”

“Never.”

She threads her fingers with mine below her breasts. Perhaps she thinks if she does so I won’t be able to get away. “What if this never happened?” she whispers.

“Then I hope we’re both having the same dream and die together in our sleep.” I mean that. Neither of us could survive waking up to find out this didn’t happen.

I inhale her scent over and over while her breath slowly evens out, and she finally fully relaxes in my embrace, sleep taking her under. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sleep again, but I want her to.

I’ve lost countless nights in the past three years. I’ve woken up in a sweat more times than I can count. I’ve paced in the night and stared out the window, wishing I could turn back time and have my girl back.

Part of me is furious that she made this choice to leave me in the dark and leave our life together. Part of me is angry with myself for my part in her decision—the fact that I never said, “I love you,” or let her know she was so fucking important to me that I wanted to marry her. I did that. It’s on me.

I also understand why she made the decision she was faced with. I know how persuasive the FBI can be when they need to keep a witness alive. I’m sure they told her my life would be in danger. Her father’s life. Her friends’ lives. Not to mention her own life.

They weren’t wrong. If the news had blasted out on every channel that there had been a survivor, chances are that motherfucker would have killed her in her hospital bed before she ever woke up from the surgery.

I’m frustrated. I’m angry. But not at Paige. I can’t continue to blame her. I gave her enough of my ire in the first half hour after I realized she was standing in front of me.

No matter how much sleep I’ve lost, she has lost much more. She’s been alone in the world for three years. She lost everything, including her father, her friends, her boyfriend, and her career. That had to hurt.

On top of that, she’s been looking over her shoulder for over a thousand days. Worrying he would find her, staying out of sight. Hiding. I can’t imagine how stressful that was. She probably needs to sleep for a week. I hope she’ll feel safe with me and know she can rest.

I have to think ahead. There are a lot of things to do. I will call my cleaning service first thing in the morning and pause their services indefinitely. I’ll need to ensure that no one comes into my penthouse for any reason without prior approval. If maintenance needs access, I will require notice so I can hide Paige in my safe room.

I can call in sick for several days. My employees will take care of things, and I can do most things from home. But after a few days, eyebrows will rise. I’m a very hands-on employer. I do not take days off. I don’t even go on vacation. I need a story.

My mind shifts gears. I need to research the remaining bank robber. I don’t even know his fucking name. Fuck the FBI and the police. I may work with them when they need me, but they do not have the resources to find someone like I do. I am going to find that asshole and exact my own justice.

I will not have Paige hiding for a year or two after he’s found, waiting for a trial. I will not have her name dragged through the media while she suffers. I will not take the risk that the robber has friends who might seek revenge on my girl before or after the trial. There will be no trial.

That asshole has no idea that he’s about to be hunted by one of the most skilled trackers in the country. I do not know the meaning of the phrase missing person. He might have been missing until today, but not for long.

Paige whimpers and shifts her weight a bit. She stays asleep.

I didn’t ask who her handler is. I should have. I might know him. Though that’s a stretch. Lord knows how many US Marshals there are. He might not even be in the Seattle area.

I will have her make contact with him tomorrow, and I will speak to him myself. I need her under my protection, not his.

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