Page 72 of Dolls & Daggers
The rain eases. He says my name in a low, rasping growl. “Dove.”
Dropping the knife, I tear my mask off and break out in a run toward him. There’s no fear in his gaze, nothing but lust and admiration and relief to see that I’m okay shining in the depths of his deep brown eyes.
Wren bends, arms wide, waiting. I leap, crashing into him, locking my mouth to his. The impact knocks us backward, sending him sprawling onto the wet earth with me in his lap.
But it doesn’t stop us.
We’re a flurry of lips and tongue and teeth—desperate, insatiable. My fingers fly to unbutton his pants, freeing him. His hands tangle in my rain-soaked hair, pulling me impossibly closer, until there’s no space left between us. I shove my panties to the side to sink down onto his hard length with a shuddering gasp.
He groans. I whimper. We move as one, frenzied and raw, our bodies as wild as the storm raging around us. Wren grips the grass behind him, anchoring us as I grind against him, chasing the edge of my climax.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he moans with his head thrown back in bliss.
I tip mine toward the sky, eyes slipping shut as the heat coils tight, the rain mixing with sweat, with blood, with the heady rush of power and lust. It crests, bursting inside me, a violent, shuddering release.
White explodes behind my eyes. “Wren! I’m coming! Baby, I’m coming!”
“Me too. Fuck, Turtle Dove. Me too.”
His grip tightens at the back of my neck, pressing our foreheads together as his hips stutter against mine, his moan melting into my lips. We breathe each other in, the storm still crackling around us, the world reduced to nothing but this.
Wren kisses me softly, then shifts, pulling my legs more firmly around his waist.
“I was so fucking worried about you,” he murmurs.
I laugh lightly, nipping at his bottom lip.
“I told you—I can take care of myself.” Then, with a wicked grin, say, “I think my violence does turn you on, though. You have a thing for necrophilia.”
Wren makes a face, pulling back slightly. “Gross, Dove. That’s when someone has sexwithdead bodies. Not next to them.”
I giggle. “Okay, so you have a thing for fuckingnextto dead bodies.”
“Only fucking you.” He grins, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to the tip of my nose before flexing his still semi-hard cock inside me. “Because you’re right. Watching you incite violencedoesturn me on.”
A deep humreverberates in Wren’s chest as I squirm in his arms. “If you keep pressing your ass against my cock like that, Turtle Dove, I’m going to fuck you again.”
My giggle bounces off the bathroom walls, wrapping around us as I wiggle my butt against him once more. The bathwater sloshes, sending pink-tinged bubbles spilling over the porcelain to drip onto the tile. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Songbird.”
Even though I’d be more than happy to go another round, I relax against his chest, settling into the warmth. Wren nuzzles my neck before pressing his cheek to my temple. “From now on, I want to go with you.”
Since leaving the farmhouse, he hasn’t stopped touching me—except for when we had to drive back inseparate vehicles. It’s like he thinks if he lets go, I’ll vanish.
His hands slide under my arms, cupping my breasts as his thumbs gently stroke over my hardened nipples. It’s not meant to be sexual, just grounding—a quiet moment of comfort for us both in the warm, strawberry-scented water.
“How about I put a pin in it, and we figure it out together?” I hope he understands what this means to me. What it means to invite him into this part of my life, to consider and include his feelings in my plans.
“Would you really do that?” he asks, shifting to look at me.
I nod. “Yeah. I will.”
I hope that by sharing something so deeply personal, he’ll finally open the door to the part of his life he’s kept hidden from me. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, Turtle Dove. Anything.” He pulls me back against his chest, resuming the slow, soothing strokes over my skin.
“What tipped you off? About me being the Doll?”
Wren laughs. “In one of the videos your victim knocked your tool tray askew. You paused just to fix it. I notice you do that whenever I move something in your office.”
