Page 62 of The Shield
28
ETHAN
The rain had eased to a persistent drizzle by the time I reached Dominion Hall, the weight of the morning’s encounter with the gray-suited man pressing against my chest like a leaden vest. The splintered townhome door and the lifeless body I’d left behind lingered in my mind, a stark testament to the path I’d carved.
I stepped into the war room, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and unspoken tension, my boots leaving wet tracks on the polished floor. My half-brothers—Ryker, Marcus, Silas, Elias, Noah, and Charlie—turned toward me, their faces a mix of curiosity and resolve, while Atlas loomed at the head, his presence a steady rock. I delivered the news, my voice steady but low, recounting the cyanide-like death and the chilling words about my father. They accepted it with nods, a silent acknowledgment of the stakes, their expressions hardening as the gravity settled.
Atlas stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through the silence. “The body will be retrieved, if his people haven’t already done it. We’ll handle it.”
His tone carried the weight of command, and I felt the gears of their operation begin to turn, a machine I knew I’d soon be part of. The bond with my new brothers—the Montana and Charleston Danes—solidified in that moment, a trust forged in shared purpose. But the mention of my father was more than sobering; it was a soul punch, a visceral blow that reopened the wound of his abandonment, tying every mystery back to Byron Dane. The pain lingered, a shadow I couldn’t shake, yet it was overshadowed by a fiercer need.
With the immediate threat neutralized, a primal sense of possession surged within me, a raging desire to have Natalie. Now, with the danger lifted, I needed her—her warmth, her scent, her very being—to anchor me.
I left Dominion Hall, the rain a cold veil as I navigated the wet streets to her place, the city a blur of flooded corners and shadowed alleys. When I arrived, a nurse from the hospital named Pearl opened the door, her gray hair pulled into a tight bun, her eyes sharp yet warm. She ushered me inside, the air carrying the faint scent of lavender and damp wood.
“How’s she doing?” I asked, my voice rough from the day’s strain.
Pearl gave me a quick rundown, her tone brisk but caring. “Concussion’s on the mend—rest, no screens for long, avoid sudden jolts. She’s home, but she should steer clear of stress and loud noises, keep hydrated, no driving yet to be safe.” Then she leaned in, a sly glint in her eye. “Certain intimate acts are fine, in moderation—keeps the spirits up, if you catch my drift.” She winked, and I got her meaning, a flush creeping up despite my focus.
“She’s resting now,” Pearl added, smiling. “I need to check in at the hospital. You should shower first—you reek like a drowned rat.” She sniffed for effect, handing me a towel with a grin before slipping out, leaving me in the quiet house.
I headed to the bathroom, the hot water a searing relief as it stripped away the grime, the steam curling around me like a cleansing fog. The soap’s sharp scent replaced the storm’s dampness, and I dried off, pulling on fresh clothes from my pack. My mind cleared, but the need for Natalie intensified.
I walked to her bedroom, the door slightly ajar, and paused, watching her sleep. The gentle rise of her chest, her hair splayed across the pillow like silk, drew me in, and I stood there for a couple of minutes, soaking in the sight.
Her eyes fluttered open, a hazy uncertainty in them as she tried to discern if I was real.
“Is it done?” she asked, her voice a soft rasp, thick with sleep.
I nodded, stepping closer. “It is, for now.”
She smiled, a spark of desire igniting in her gaze. “I want you, now.”
I hesitated, recalling Pearl’s advice. “She said moderation.”
Natalie grinned, a wicked edge to it. “Take off your pants.”
I shed my clothes, the fabric hitting the floor, my cock springing free, rigid and pulsing under her hungry eyes. She reached out, her fingers wrapping around me, guiding me to her mouth. Her lips parted, struggling to accommodate my girth, and she focused on the swollen head, her tongue lashing with fierce intent, her hands gripping the base with a possessive squeeze, one sliding down to tease the sensitive skin beneath. The heat was searing, her mouth a vortex of pleasure, and I groaned, my hands fisting in her hair as she worked me with relentless passion.
It ignited a fire that consumed us, the air crackling with raw need. I lifted her gently, peeling her shirt off to reveal her bare skin, my mouth descending to suckle the sensitive hollow beneath her ear, my teeth grazing the lobe as she shivered.
I slid her pants down, the fabric clinging to her thighs, and parted her legs wide, my breath hot against her inner thighs as Ikissed the soft flesh, avoiding the familiar paths. I traced a finger along the crease where her thigh met her hip, then dipped lower.
Her gasp fueled me, and I pressed a finger inside, the resistance giving way to a moan as I worked her.
She writhed, her hands clawing at the sheets, and I shifted, positioning myself behind her, my cock pressing against her slick entrance. I entered slowly, her tightness gripping me, her cry ecstasy as I filled her. The rhythm built, hard and unrelenting, each thrust driving deeper, her body yielding as I claimed her. I leaned forward, my chest against her back, one hand sliding around to cup her breast, pinching the nipple until she arched, the other hand reaching down to rub her clit, her glorious wetness coating my fingers.
She came with a scream, her body convulsing, but I didn’t stop. I pulled out, flipping her onto her back, lifting her legs high, hooking them over my shoulders as I entered her again, the angle plunging me deep into her core. My thrusts were brutal, possessive, each one a declaration as I watched her face contort with pleasure, her eyes locked on mine. I gripped her thighs, leaving red marks, my cock slamming into her with a force that shook the bed, the headboard banging against the wall. She clawed at my arms, urging me on, and I responded, shifting to grind against her, the friction igniting another orgasm that ripped through her, her juices soaking me and the sheets.
I wasn’t done. I withdrew, pulling her to the edge of the bed, standing as I lifted her hips, licking her wetness, then entering her again from a standing position, my hands digging into her flesh as I pounded into her, the sound of our bodies colliding a primal beat.
I leaned down, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss, my tongue dominating hers as I thrust, her legs trembling around me. I broke the kiss, trailing my lips to her collarbone, suckinghard enough to mark, then sucking the tender skin as she moaned, her hands pulling me closer.
Another climax hit her, her body shaking violently, and I felt my own release building, a tidal wave of need. I flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up, entering her from behind again, my hands spreading her cheeks to watch myself disappear inside her. The sight, the feel, pushed me over, and I came with a roar, filling her, my body shuddering as I held her tight, the intensity leaving us both gasping.
I didn’t release her immediately, cradling her against me, my arms wrapping around her torso, consuming her with kisses along her spine, her neck, her jaw, each one a possessive claim.
She turned in my embrace, her lips finding mine, and we kissed deeply, a dance of tongues and breath, her hands roaming my back, nails scraping lightly as we lost ourselves in the afterglow.
