Page 44 of Taken By the Convicts
Ivan lowered his head, smelling her hair, and then moved down to the curve between her neck and shoulder as her hand moved to the back of his neck. He wanted to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled, to know how her naked body felt beneath him as he sank into her. He wanted to wake with her in his arms, not because he’d traumatized her, but because she wanted to be in his bed, with him.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he whispered in her ear as his mouth found hers.
She opened for him easily, letting his tongue glide over her bottom lip before seeking her tongue. Her hand sifted through the hair at the base of his neck, calming the pain shooting through him.
Like a balm, her touch soothed him, diminishing the pain that had plagued him throughout his shift and every waking moment of the day. Warm fingers moved down his neck and under his shirt. He could feel himself get hard as her fingers glided over his back muscles. He shifted his hips forward, letting her know what she did to him.
“I’ll protect you, Melina,” he whispered.
“I don’t need your brand of protection, Namir!” she snapped as she backed away from him, her face riddled with fear.
Who the fuck was Namir?
“You’re in the bunker, Melina. Just me, Crusher, and Zev,” he said, hoping to snap her out of whatever memory held her. He left Jayce’s name off, intentionally. “Namir isn’t here.”
The fear in her face faded. “I-I’m sorry. I guess I got confused. I’ll give you whatever you want, but please don’t cage me here.”
He had already assigned her the last bedroom, the one at the end of the hall, two doors down from his. She had clothing, a bed, bedding, and free access to the facilities, kitchen, and storage rooms. She had everything she could want, including her choice of males to warm her bed and keep her from getting lonely.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re staying here.”
Tears filled her eyes, the fear still present. Before she could pull away, he kissed her forehead. “Veenith isn’t an easy life or a safe one. I’m not keeping you here to cause you pain. Rather, the opposite.”
She nodded, even as she wiped the tears. “I can’t stay down here,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Maybe you’ll forgive me one day. Maybe not. But I won’t change my mind. I’m doing this for your safety, Melina.”
A strangled cry left her throat. “You wouldn’t believe how often I’ve been told that in my life.”
Melina pulled off her shirt. God, she was beautiful. Rounded breasts with dusty-rose peaks that were as hard as his dick right now. He wanted to tease one with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth, but she turned around. Her hair hung half-way down her back until she pulled the silky mass to her front, revealing a story he didn’t want to imagine.
Fine scars, too many to count, crisscrossed her back. Now he understood why she kept her hair so long, despite how easily a man could grab her by her hair, how easily he had grabbed her.
Someone had cut her with a knife, intentionallyhurtingher. Rage burned through him, masking the ever-present pain riddling his nerves. If he ever made it off Veenith, he’d hunt and kill the man who scarred her, the monster responsible for stealing her confidence and her smile. But first, he’d make him suffer.
As Ivan ran his hand over her scars, she flinched. “Don’t,” she said, sucking in air.
“Don’t touch a beautiful woman who strips for me? Oh, my little bird, you don’t know me very well.” He ran his hand down the center of her back, over the knots of her spine, focusing very hard on not stopping each time his fingers struck a scar. By the time he reached her lower back, her muscles relaxed beneath his touch.
She turned to look over her shoulder, her hair falling back in place to cover the scars. “They don’t repulse you?” she asked.
“A few scars? I’ve yet to see a soldier without scars. I don’t trust a soldier who’s never been wounded. It means he’s too scared to fight.”
“I’m not a soldier.”
“Not all soldiers fight with blasters. I have a feeling, my little bird, that the war you foughtand survivedwould crush most of the soldiers I know.”
She smiled at that. A glorious smile that warmed him. “But if we’re comparing scars, I’ll have to take off my pants to show you mine.”
She sniffled as she laughed. She’d been crying for far too long.
“You don’t have scars like mine,” she added, her voice filled with caution, like she wanted to flirt, but doubted herself. Oh, he’d definitely make the man who did this pay.
“Only one way to find out,” Ivan said, unfastening his pants.
“No! Don’t! I mean, I should get dressed now.”
He loved seeing her flustered, knowing that he could get through that hard shell of hers. She wasn’t the tough person she pretended to be. He had enough tough bastards in his life. He needed someone soft and warm, someone whose every emotion showed on her face.
