Page 53 of Surrender to Me
He freezes immediately, his hand cupping my face, thumb wiping a tear. “Talk to me.”
“Slow down,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “It’s too much.”
He nods, his expression softening, and he gathers me against him, his arms a fortress around my quaking body. “I’ve got you. We will stop if you need to.”
But I don’t want to stop. Not really. The danger of it—the way he’s taking me apart piece by piece—feels like the heists I grew up on, the rush of almost getting caught. “Green,” I say after a breath, meeting his eyes. “Keep going.”
His smile is wicked, approving. “That’s my girl.”
He resumes, more slowly now, his touches deliberate, rebuilding the fire until I’m teetering again. This time, when the wave crests, he doesn’t pull away. “Come for me, Allie. Let go.”
I shatter, the orgasm ripping through me like a storm, waves crashing until I’m boneless, spent, clinging to him. He holds me through it, murmuring praises that sink into my skin, his hands gentle now, tracing patterns on my back.
In the quiet aftermath, my breathing evens.
He said he wanted to build trust. And he is. He instantly stopped, made me talk when I said yellow. But this trust… I know it’s a cage—a cage I might not want to escape.
It’s official Stryker is more dangerous than the men who are after me.
Physical battles, I know how to win. Emotional ones?
I have no idea what to do with those.
“You’re trembling, Allie, but I’m nowhere near done with you.” His voice is a low, dangerous rumble, each word a promise that curls heat through my core.
More nervous than I want to let on, I look at him.
As he sweeps his gaze over me, his eyes darken with intensity, a silent vow that this vulnerability I’ve just surrendered is merely the spark, and the fire he’s about to unleash will consume me whole…
Chapter Sixteen
Lyra
His words hang in the air, a low, dangerous rumble that sets my nerves alight, each syllable a match struck against the kindling of my body. I’m still trembling from the orgasm that shattered me, my skin slick with sweat, my breath ragged, but the way Stryker’s eyes darken—intense, unyielding, a silent vow—tells me I’m nowhere near the edge of what he’s capable of demanding.
My heart stutters, caught between the thrill of surrender and the whisper of danger that’s always there, like the locket pressed against my chest, heavy with secrets I can’t share.
I’m a thief, a liar, someone who’s always slipped through shadows. But here, in this cabin, pinned under his gaze, I’m just a woman—raw, exposed, and aching for the fire he’s promised to unleash.
“On your knees.” His voice is voice is low and commanding, not a request but an order that vibrates through me like a plucked string. His hand grazes my hip, guiding me as I shift, my body obeying before my mind can catch up.
I turn, settling onto all fours on the bed, the soft sheets cool against my palms, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from my spanked skin.
The vulnerability of this position—ass up, face pressed toward the mattress—sends a jolt of adrenaline through me, like I’m dangling over a ledge, trusting him not to let me fall.
I glance back, catching the way his jaw tightens, the way he rakes his gaze over me with a hunger that makes my pussy clench.
Stryker is all muscle and control, his shirt half unbuttoned, revealing the hard planes of his chest, and I can’t help but think of the protector he is—Hawkeye agent, trained to hunt, to break, to save. But right now, he’s hunting me, and I’m terrified to admit that part of me isn’t sure I actually want to escape.
What the hell?
That thought could land me in prison.
“You’re so damn beautiful like this.” His tone is rougher now, edged with something primal. He moves behind me, his hands gripping my hips, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp. “So open. So mine.”
This time, the word mine hits like a spark to gasoline. I want to protest—I belong to no one—but the thought dissolves as his palm slides up my spine, pressing me down until my cheek rests against the sheets, my body arched for him.
The locket swings beneath me, a cold reminder of my lies, but his touch burns it away, grounding me in this moment, this bed, this man.
