Page 82 of Savage Reins
He's essentially declaring himself an outcast from the only family he's known. But instead of fear, I feel something fierce and protective rise in my chest.
"What will you do?"
"Figure it out as I go." His hand finds my arm, fingers gentle against the bruises Dima left behind. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine. Scared, but fine."
"You should be scared. What you did today—switching those numbers—that took courage I didn't know you possessed." His eyes search me, and I see the tenderness there I had missed for the past few days, or maybe I'd been ignoring it.
"It took desperation."
"No. It took intelligence and guts and the kind of determination that most people never find." His thumb brushes across my swollen cheek. "You saved your ranch. Saved your horse. Saved yourself."
The praise makes my throat tight. "I nearly got us both killed."
"You proved that your mare was the best horse on that track. Everything else was just… politics."
Around us, the activity of the racetrack continues. Horses being led to trailers, spectators heading toward parking areas, staff cleaning up the detritus of race day. But it feels distant, unreal. The only thing that exists is Renat's hands on my face and the promise in his dark green eyes.
"Come with me," he says quietly.
"Where?"
"Back to the stables. Away from all this. We need to talk."
I nod, unable to trust my voice. He takes Rusalka's lead rope from the handler, and together we walk away from the winner's circle across the track grounds and out the back exit toward our barn area.
Back in our barn, he puts Rusalka in her stall while I collect a bucket of feed, some carrots, and a fresh pail of water for her. Rusalka snorts, impatient with standing still after her victory. Renat removes her halter, lets her move freely. She immediately drops to roll in the dirt, coating her glossy coat with dust and grass stains.
"She's earned it," I say.
"She's earned everything." Renat closes the gate, turns back to me. "And so have you."
As his fingers lace through mine, I feel the full weight of what's happened crash over me. The race. The confrontation. The violence. The resolution. Everything balanced on a knife's edge, and somehow, we survived.
I move toward him, drawn by something stronger than fear or logic or self-preservation. When I'm close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, I stop.
"Renat."
"I know." His hands find my waist, pull me closer. "You don’t have to say it,lyubimaya…" He pulls me with him, backing toward the stairs to his bunk loft.
And then I'm kissing him with every shred of tension and relief and terror that's been building in my chest since the moment I heard Vadim order him to kill me. It's desperate and grateful and hungry all at once, pouring everything I can't say into the connection between our mouths.
He responds with equal intensity, hands tangling in my hair, pulling me against him with a force that speaks of his own desperation and relief. We're both shaking—from adrenaline,from fear, from the overwhelming reality of being alive when we should have been dead.
We stumble up the steps, teeth knocking together a few times, with desperate fingers tearing at each other's clothing. I hearBatyaenter the barn, call my name, but I ignore it. I'm with the man I love now, and I'm not pulling away again for any reason, ever.
His mouth is everywhere, hard and hungry, his stubble scraping my skin as he drags kisses down my throat. My fingers fumble at his belt, tugging it open while he tears at my shirt. The buttons scatter across the floor, pinging away into the shadows, but neither of us stops. He doesn't even lock the door.
His hands close over my breasts through the thin lace of my bra, squeezing rough, then yanking the cups down so his mouth can close around one aching nipple. I cry out, clutching his head to me, my legs tangled around his hips.
“Mine,” he growls against my skin. His voice is raw, wrecked from everything that came before this moment. “You’re mine,lyubimaya. No one touches you. No one takes you. Not ever.”
“Yes,” I gasp, yanking at his jeans, desperate to get him inside me. “Yours. Only yours.”
We crash onto the bed, its frame groaning under us. He drags my shorts and panties down in one motion, baring me to the cool loft air. His cock is already hard and heavy in his fist, freed from the denim. I don’t even have time to brace before he drives into me in one rough stroke, forcing a strangled cry from my throat. My body takes him, clenching tight around every thick inch.
He buries his face against my neck, breath harsh, hips pounding. “Almost lost you. Thought I’d never get this again.” His teeth scrape my skin as he thrusts harder, pinning me down with every savage push. “I love you, Mira. You hear me? I fucking love you.”
