Page 83 of Savage Reins
The words shatter me and I arch beneath him, meeting every thrust, needing him deeper, harder. “Say it again,” I beg, nails raking his back, desperate for the truth I’ve wanted to hear.
His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back so his mouth claims mine. Between bruising kisses, he growls it again. “I love you. God, I love you.” Each declaration slams into me as fiercely as his body does, his cock hitting deep, sending shocks of pleasure rolling through me until I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but cling to him and let the force of him unravel me completely.
My cries echo off the rafters, mingling with the creak of the cot beneath us. He pounds into me, sweat dripping from his temple onto my skin. Every thrust is a punishment and a promise all at once. His hand slides from my hair to my throat, his thumb resting just under my jaw while he stares down at me with eyes gone black with hunger.
“No one will ever take you from me,” he rasps, his voice wrecked. “Not after today."
I moan so loudly it borders on a sob. “Renat…” My legs clamp tighter around his hips, forcing him deeper. The pressure builds, each stroke dragging me closer to the edge.
He lowers his mouth to my ear, words a filthy growl. “Come for me,lyubimaya. Let me feel what’s mine. Let me feel you give me everything.”
The command rips through me. My body clenches violently around him, wave after wave tearing me apart. I scream his name, clutching at him, my nails digging furrows into his shoulders. The orgasm shakes me, and pleasure shoots through every nerve.
Renat snarls a feral sound as my body milks him. His thrusts turn brutal, hips slamming against me with reckless force. “That’s it. Hold on to me. Take it all.” He kisses me again, messyand raw, teeth biting my bottom lip until I taste blood, and I welcome the sting because it’s him—because it’s real.
The loft sways in my vision, stars exploding behind my eyes. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow. He’s chasing his own breaking point, and he wants to take me there with him.
“Say it,” I gasp, clutching his face between my palms. “Say it again.”
His hips stutter, his cock driving so deep it feels like he’s splitting me open. “I love you,” he growls, teeth bared. “I love you so fucking much.”
The words hit me as his final thrusts tear another climax from my body, smaller but sharp, and then I feel him spill inside me—hot, thick pulses that fill me until I can’t hold back another scream. He holds me down while he empties himself, forehead pressed to mine, both of us trembling from the violence of release.
Afterward, we lie together on his narrow cot, my head on his chest, his arms wrapped around me. The morning has warmed to afternoon, and somewhere in the distance I can hear the nicker of tired horses. The day feels like a dream, but the past month has seemed a nightmare.
"I need to tell you something," I say against his skin.
"What?"
"Your capacity for violence terrifies me." The words come out in a rush. "The way you fought those men, the way you were ready to kill for me—it scares me more than I can explain."
His chest rises and falls beneath my cheek. "It should. I've done terrible things, Mira. Things that would make you run if you knew the details."
"But I love you anyway." The confession escapes my lips before I can stop it. "I love you and I don't want you to leave."
For a long moment, he doesn't respond. Then his arms tighten around me.
"I love you too." His voice is rough with emotion. "And I won't live without you."
"How? How do we make this work? You can't go back to your family. I can't leave the ranch. Everything about this is impossible."
"I don't know how. But I'll work it out." His hand strokes through my hair. "We'll work it out. Together."
"Together," I repeat, and I believe the future might hold something besides struggle and loss.
It might hold happiness. It might hold love. It might hold everything we're brave enough to reach for.
Together.
31
RENAT
Dawn breaks cold over the Petrov ranch, mist rising from the pastures in ghostly tendrils that curl around the fence posts and drift between the buildings. I have been awake since four in the morning, checking positions, confirming sightlines, making sure every man knows his role in what will unfold when the sun climbs higher. The rifle feels familiar across my shoulder, an old companion I hoped never to need again but cannot abandon now that circumstances demand its presence.
Two days have passed since the confrontation at the track, two days of waiting for the inevitable response that men like Lev Karpin always deliver when their pride takes wounds deeper than their flesh can bear. Vadim called yesterday afternoon with a warning for me to understand they're coming—for the horse and for me. And I'm here, ready and waiting.
My men have spread around the property in positions we rehearsed yesterday while Mira worked with the horses, unaware that her safety depends on calculations of death and angles of fire. Anton crouches behind the hay bales near the main barn, his rifle trained on the access road where vehicles must approach. Boris has claimed the high ground in theloft above the stables, where his scope can sweep the entire front. Ivan covers the rear approach from the equipment shed, watching for flanking maneuvers. Three more spread along the fence line, invisible among the morning shadows, waiting for targets to present themselves.
