Page 57 of Sanctuary

“Fuck me with your fingers, your tongue, devour me! Just do something, anything!” she cried out, her voice laced with need.

A low, hungry laugh escaped me as I dove in, my tongue ravaging her, consuming her. She was sweet and salty on my tongue, an intoxicating mix that drove me wild. Her legs quivered against my face, and I knew she was on the edge, ready to explode against my mouth. I was more than ready to take her there.

Her fingers gripped the sheets as she came undone, my name a broken cry on her lips. I held her through the waves of pleasure, relishing the flush spreading across her skin. When her breathing steadied, she pulled me up to her, eyes dark with renewed hunger.

“My turn,” she whispered, pushing me onto my back with surprising strength.

Her mouth traced a deliberate path down my chest, her hair cascading around us like a curtain. I sucked in a sharp breath as her hand found me, stroking with exquisite precision. Her lips followed, and I had to close my eyes against the overwhelming sensation.

“Look at me,” she commanded softly.

I obeyed, meeting her gaze as she took me in completely. The vulnerability in that connection was almost too much to bear—more intimate than the physical act itself. When I felt myself approaching the edge too quickly, I gently guided her back up.

“Not yet,” I murmured against her mouth. “Together.”

She nodded, understanding without words. I rolled her beneath me again, positioning myself between her thighs. The first slow push inside her drew gasps from us both. For a moment, we remained perfectly still, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air.

“I never thought we'd be here again,” she whispered, her voice catching.

I kissed her deeply as I began to move, setting a rhythm that built steadily. Her legs wrapped around my waist, urging me deeper. Every barrier between us—physical, emotional—dissolved until I couldn't tell where I ended and she began.

“Connor,” she panted, her inner muscles tightening around me. “I'm close—”

“Let go,” I urged, increasing my pace. “I've got you.”

We tumbled over the edge together, clinging to each other as pleasure crashed through us. In the aftermath, her tears mingled with mine, salt and sweetness on our lips. We lay tangled together, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing patterns on her bare shoulder.

“Whatever happens tomorrow,” I said quietly, “this is what matters. What's between us.”

She pressed a kiss to my heart. “Promise me you'll remember that. No matter what.”

I nodded, pulling her closer, trying to ignore the hint of foreboding in her words. For tonight, at least, we had found our way back to each other. And I would fight like hell to keep it that way.

“We should sleep,” I murmured against her hair.

She nodded but made no move to pull away. “I wish we could stay like this,” she whispered. “Just for a little while longer.”

I tightened my arms around her, as if I could somehow shield her from what was coming. “We’ll have more moments like this,” I promised. “After tomorrow.”

I pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. “Some things you just know,” I replied softly. “Now sleep. Tomorrow is going to be the fight of our lives.”

Mia

I woke before dawn, years of training making it impossible to sleep past 5 AM, even after the exhaustion of yesterday. Connor’s arm was still draped across my waist, his breathing deep and even against my neck. For a moment, I allowed myself to savor the warmth of him, the solid presence at my back that had somehow become my anchor in a world turned upside down.

Carefully, I extracted myself from his embrace, pausing only when he stirred slightly before settling back into sleep. I dressed silently in the clothes that Kat had dropped off while Connor and Declan were having their meeting last night— black tactical pants, a fitted long-sleeve shirt, and combat boots that fit surprisingly well. Practical clothes for what was coming.

The house was quiet as I made my way downstairs, though I noted the security system had been armed and recently checked. Someone else was awake. Following my instincts, I headed toward the kitchen and found Rory sitting at the island counter, a mug of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other.

He looked up as I entered, his expression guarded. “You’re up early.”

“Old habits,” I replied, moving to the coffee maker and pouring myself a cup. “You too, apparently.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, setting down his phone. “Too many scenarios running through my mind.”

I nodded, understanding completely. “Any updates from your men in Vancouver?”

“Yeah. I suggested to Declan to send two of our best men. Brothers. Identical twins, Ryker and Royal O’Toole. They’ve established surveillance on Lily’s apartment and her school. So far, no sign of Matheson’s people. She appears safe.”

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