Page 69 of Dustwalker
“I’m ready,” she replied between shuddering breaths. There’d be pain; it was unavoidable. Lifewas pain, and what was sex, if not part of life? But Ronin didn’t want to hurt her. That meant something. That would make this bearable.
It was this care, this closeness, this intimacy that she needed most of all. “Find your release, Ronin.”
His fingers slipped into her hair, and he gently tipped her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. “This isn’t about my release.”
Reclaiming her mouth in a kiss, he banded an arm around her back in support and rolled his hips. The motion was smooth, and she didn’t immediately realize what was happening until she felt a shiver of delight spread through her. It made her breath catch and her heart quicken.
The sensation grew as his shaft slid in and out of her. She held her breath, waiting for the searing pain, but there was only the glide of his cock and a growing slickness between her thighs.
Lara whimpered into his mouth, brow creasing as Ronin thrust faster, deeper, striking a hidden place inside her she hadn’t known existed, sending flickers of pleasure through her.
Those sensations in her core intensified, coiling tighter and tighter, growing into something nearly overwhelming. She tore her mouth from his.
“Ronin… I… Oh God, Ronin.” Panting, she gripped his shoulders. Her body moved of its own accord, bouncing atop him, hips undulating. Sheneeded more. She needed his cock deeper, harder, faster. This wasnothinglike before. This was…this was…
Her back bowed against his arm, angling her hips to take more of him in, and she shut her eyes.
Ecstasy burst through her, flooding her senses. She might have begged, might have cried his name, but she didn’t know for sure. There was only his body melded with hers, his pace increasing relentlessly.
The friction escalated, and the fire inside Lara burned hotter and hotter. It was too much; it was terrifying. But she opened herself up, welcoming it, and clutched herself against his chest, sinking into his warmth. He was hot steel wrapped in tantalizing softness. Every inch of him felt like it had been crafted just for her, to fit perfectly against her body, and his every motion delivered exactly the sensation she needed.
This isn’t about my release.
No, he’d made it about Lara. About her comfort, her pleasure, her needs and desires. He was giving her everything right now, everything of himself. And he was asking nothing in return.
With a cry, she came undone, shattering in his embrace and losing herself for an instant that stretched on forever.
The press of his fingers strengthened, and the dull pain they caused only enhanced her pleasure. Ronin was solid, real, around her and inside her. He held her close. Suddenly, his body stilled as his cock pulsed. Each vibration sent another wave of pleasure through her, setting a slow, steady rhythm that had her gasping. Though it was nothing compared to his thrusting a moment before, it pushed her to another peak. She clung to him as she soared.
When it was done, she felt light, and her mind settled back into her body like a feather floating down from the sky. Lara sagged against Ronin, breathing hard and quivering. His skin was damp with her sweat. Cool drops of it ran between her breasts, falling onto the sculpted terrain of his abdomen.
She sat that way for a long while before he moved. He rubbed his cheek atop her hair and shifted onto his knees, holding her body against his while he turned. His cock withdrew as he lay on his side, drawing her down beside him with her head cradled in the crook of his arm.
Without him filling her, Lara felt empty again, though it was far removed from the vast hollowness of earlier.
They lay together in silence, Ronin’s fingertips lazily brushing along her outer thigh, up to her hips and down to her knee, back and forth.
His gentleness was her undoing; reality surged back.
Her throat tightened, and tears spilled from her eyes. She’d treated him terribly, while he’d repeatedly gone out of his way to provide for her comfort. His thoughtfulness in burying Tabitha was proof than he could act with compassion. And he’d done it for Lara.
There was a constricting ache in her chest, but she forced the words out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean the things I said, Ronin.”
His hand stopped.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
In the early days after his reactivation, Ronin would’ve thought Lara’s vague apology meant she was sorry for every word she’d ever spoken to him, all of which he recalled with perfect clarity.
He knew better now. Humans were rarely so literal, and their tangled emotions often drove them to say and do things contradictory to what they actually thought and felt. He’d only reached that understanding during his short time with Lara.
Now, he searched his memory banks and picked out the things she’d said in anger and frustration. Those words had been uttered in response to her internal suffering. Unable to reconcile her own feelings, she’d attacked Ronin. How could he blame her? The Creators had left everyone with nothing after the Blackout, had dumped them in a shattered world and offered no guidance.
“It’s all right,” he said, resuming the motion of his fingers over her skin.
She shivered. Her body’s reactions to his touch were fascinating.
He contemplated the differences hidden beneath their exteriors. Their skin was similar, but only superficially so. Hers was softer, and its texture varied from place to place, with calluses on her knees and fingers. It was simultaneously resilient and delicate. Beneath his light touch, her flesh rose into small bumps, the fine hairs upon it standing on end.
