Page 29 of Savage Reins
My fingernails dig into his chest, and he hisses through his teeth, but he doesn’t stop.
“Say it.” His voice is a command. “Say you love it.”
“I do,” I gasp. “God, I fucking do?—”
“That’s right.” His thumb finds my clit, starts circling. Not gentle. Not patient. Just enough to make me come undone. “You’ll think about this every time you look at that barn. Every time you see my blood on your floor.”
My body tenses, everything coiled and tight and too much.
“Come on me,” he grits out. “Soak my cock, Mira.”
I shatter.
My hips jerk, my legs trembling around him as I fall apart, spasming hard around the thick length still driving into me. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow down, just grunts and fucks harder through it, chasing his own release.
“Fucking perfect,” he growls, voice tight. “You’re fucking perfect?—”
His rhythm breaks. He groans against my throat and thrusts again, hips jerking as he starts to come. I feel his cock twitching inside me, the heat of him spilling deep. He keeps moving, a few hard strokes dragging it out, breaths ragged in my ear.
Then he stills, buried to the base, chest rising quickly under mine. His hands slide up my sides, slowing, then settle at my waist like he’s anchoring himself there.
We don’t speak. My forehead rests against his, both of us too wrung out to move. I can still feel his heartbeat under my palm.
His voice breaks the silence. “That what you needed?”
"Mmm," I moan softly and slide off him, careful not to touch any of his battered ribs.
I lie curled against his uninjured side, my bare skin pressed to his chest. His arm wraps around me, holding me close despite the pain it must cause his bruised ribs. Neither of us speaks. There's nothing to say that would uncomplicated this. So I am physically attracted to him. It doesn't mean I'm in love, and it doesn't mean things are changing. I know that. Renat is here to do a job, and apparently, me too.
The familiar sounds of home surround us, but everything feels different now, changed in ways I can't take back and don't want to. His breathing evens out gradually, and I think he might be falling asleep. But then his hand moves against my hair, stroking gently.
"You should go," he murmurs. "Your father will wonder where you are."
"In a minute," I tell him, but I don't move. I don't want to break this moment, fragile and stolen as it is. His heartbeat is steady under my ear. His skin is warm against mine, scarred and marked by violence but gentle in its touch.
I know this is temporary. I know that we'll have to face what this means and what it costs. I know getting into bed with a man who could burn my world down is the most dangerous gamble I've ever made.
But right now, none of that seems to matter. Right now, he's alive and whole and mine, and that's enough.
11
RENAT
My phone buzzes from the wooden crate serving as my nightstand at five-thirty in the morning. Mira stirs beside me, her warm body shifting closer to mine before the sound registers fully in my sleep-fogged mind. I reach for the device before it can ring again, careful not to jar my bandaged ribs.
Vadim's name glows on the screen.
"I have to take this," I whisper, already sliding out from under her arm.
She mumbles something incoherent and burrows deeper into the pillow. I pull on my jeans and step outside onto the small landing at the top of the loft ladder, closing the door quietly behind me.
"Vadim."
"Track line. Twenty minutes." His voice carries the familiar edge that means someone has pushed him past patience. "We need to talk."
The call ends without another word. I stare at the phone for a moment, then slip back inside to finish dressing. Mira hasn't moved, her dark blonde hair spread across the pillow, facepeaceful in sleep. Part of me wants to wake her, to warn her that the walls are closing in faster than we anticipated. But what would I say? That her life depends on a horse that might not be ready? That my family will burn her world down if we fail?
Instead, I pull on my shirt and boots, wincing as the movement pulls at my injured shoulder. The morning air bites at my skin as I descend the stairs, cold enough to see my breath. Frost covers the paddock rails, turning the ranch into something crystalline and fragile.
