Page 58 of His to Take

It started in the tips of my toes, rolling up through my legs. When it finally crashed into me, it exploded outward and every muscle in my body went rigid.

I couldn’t escape his fingers on my clit. With almost rabid intensity, they glided over my clit, intensifying the already paralyzing excitation of that needy little bundle of nerves.

I screamed.

My body clenched tight, causing fierce volleys of agony to radiate around the abused ring of muscle clamped around Ryker’s fingers. He didn’t stop fucking my bottom. Somehow, it got faster, hotter, and more painful, and that made me come that much harder.

He’d been right.

Euphoria the likes of which I’d never yet known took hold of me. I arched my back, took his fingers deeper, riding his hand harder in the process. I screamed and moaned, writhing as wave after wave of painful pleasure crashed into me.

There was no escaping even a second of powerful ecstasy like this. Delicious pain seared through me. I suffered through it as much as I enjoyed it.

I closed my eyes, trying to keep myself together. Suddenly, I felt like I was falling, and I gasped, losing myself in the endless chasm of merciless, passionate sensation. There was no fighting it.

A tear dripped down my cheek. Another followed, and finally, the tears I’d held in for so long poured forth.

I wasn’t sure why I was crying. All I knew was that it wasn’t just from the pain, but maybe from the soul-shattering intensity of coming so hard, or maybe it was the cumulative effect of everything he’d put me through during this punishment.

His hands finally withdrew from my tortured body as I started to sob in earnest. Then his protective arms were around me, cocooning me in their strength and warmth and lifting me off the shameful log. He sat down in my place and gathered me in hislap. I curled into his chest, pressing my tear-streaked face into the crook of his neck and just cried. The warmth of his embrace surrounded me, letting me know that it was all over and that I was safe now.

My clit pounded hard at the thought.

“I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“I forgave you the moment I found you at the bridge,” he answered softly. The quiet rumble of his voice was comforting, and I curled up even closer against his chest, my feet on his thigh, my legs pressed to my own chest. His arms squeezed tighter, and I sighed with deep happiness when his palm cupped the back of my head.

My heart throbbed with feeling for this man.

I wrapped an arm around his neck, digging my fingers into him unintentionally.

“I’m glad you came after me,” I whispered, feeling raw and vulnerable and open in a way I’d never felt with anyone before.

“I am too, my sweet girl,” he whispered back.

CHAPTER 13

Ryker

I had guessed she would run. I’d seen it in her eyes the night before when I told her that she would be coming with me to my home rather than returning to hers. Her shoulders had pulled back, practically bristling as she bit her tongue and pretended to go along with it. This morning, she’d thought she had slipped away with me completely unaware, but I’d felt her movement the moment she’d gotten up.

I held her close, tracing my fingers up and down the length of her spine as she sat cuddled up in my lap. Back home, I hadn’t spent much time dating. I’d had a few short-term relationships in the past that had fizzled shortly after they began. I hadn’t felt anything for them like I felt for her.

Naomi was special.

She was the one.

I held her for as long as she needed. She was probably struggling to accept what had just happened and I didn’t want to rush her.She had never experienced anything remotely like that in her life yet still she held onto me like she didn’t want to let go. To be honest, neither did I.

Eventually though, she did begin to stir. With cheeks still mottled from crying and eyes that were still a little bit glassy, she lifted her head and gazed up at me. Unable to resist, I leaned down and captured her lips with mine in a gentle kiss. Tenderly, she kissed me back. Her arms curled a bit tighter around me and when we finally parted, I noticed a sweet, wistful smile on her lips. I traced my thumb over her mouth, my own heart hammering in my chest.

She didn’t know it yet, but I was going to make her my bride.

Of course she was going to bemy wife.

The laws of Pacifica were clear: any newcomer who set foot within its borders without prior approval must be wed to a citizen or face immediate deportation. It was a tradition born from the city-state’s founding—a safeguard to ensure loyalty and integration in a world fractured by distrust. Outsiders weren’t just visitors in Pacifica; they became part of it, bound by the ties of marriage and family. For centuries, the policy had protected our people and our culture, solidified alliances and ensured that every new arrival had a stake in our survival. Naomi didn’t yet know what awaited her when we crossed into my homeland, but I would make sure she understood. There would be no debate, no hesitation. I would not allow her to be sent back to New Englandia. She would belong to me, in every sense of the word.

She was meant to be mine.

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