Page 101 of Tabitha

I eye him suspiciously, lips pursed to hold back my smirk. I give him one more suspicious look, then turn away. “Strip. I’ll get the supplies.”

I peer into the box of medical supplies Pierce left by the counter near the sink, debate what to grab, then decide to take the whole box with me just to be safe. Worry eats away at my humor, and I clutch the box to me as I turn back toward River.

Only to come to a complete halt when I see that he’s completely naked, his cock standing tall and proud from where he’s sitting on the toilet lid. He doesn’t even bother to hide his erection. I expect to see a smirk or a cocky brow from him, but his earnest eyes send my stomach fluttering.

He’s a soldier, used to taking commands. A stray thought takes me completely by surprise, and I can’t help but wonder how that transitions into the bedroom. Feeling a flush creep up my cheeks, I tear my eyes away from his cock and focus on the task at hand.

River is caked in blood, and I’m not sure how much of it is his own. I turn and soak a towel in the shower before shuffling back toward him. I start with his hand, avoiding his gaze as I studiously clean his body. I work my way up to his shoulder, moving to his neck, careful of his face, then systematically work my way down his body.

It’s only when I kneel before him that he breaks, a tortured groan catching in the back of his throat. I peer up at him, only to see him swallowing hard. A tremor goes through him, his knuckles turning white from where he tightens his grip on his knees, but other than that small tell, he remains perfectly still.

I expect him to be staring at my breasts, but his worshipful attention remains on my face like he can’t believe I’m real and could vanish at any moment if he even blinks.

His control is absolutely phenomenal.

I pick up my pace, finally getting a clear look at him…and breathe a sigh of relief that his wounds are mostly superficial. Most of the blood decorating him wasn’t his own. His face took the brunt of his beatings. I check his ribs for breaks, then stand and move my fingers over his face.

My shoulders drop, and I release the air that has been caught in my chest since I first saw him tied to the chair, beaten and bloody. “Superficial. Bruising. Some cracked ribs, but you’re—”

I don’t even get a chance to finish before he grabs the back of my neck and drags me forward, his mouth crashing against mine. He releases me much too soon, leaving me gasping. He moves, grabs my hips, then spins me, depositing me on the toilet.

River kneels in front of me, avoiding my gaze as he studiously checks me over for injuries. He’s thorough, kissing my bruised knuckles, fussing over the tiny nicks and cuts, his scowl deepening when he notes the many scars decorating my body, then he hisses when he catches sight of the wound carved along my ribs.

“I’m fine,” I mutter. He looks so devastated that I quickly cup his face. “I’ve had much worse. I don’t even feel it.”

He looks torn, his hands coming up to clutch my wrists. “I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“I’m alive,” I reassure him, giving him a quick kiss, struggling not to linger over the taste of him. He smells of warm sand and coconut, and I’m hungry for more. “We’re both alive because of the team. If I’ve learned anything from you and the others, it’s that we’re stronger together. We need each other.”

The worry in his brown eyes melts away, replaced by such hope and longing that my heart stutters. The air around him stills as he devours me with his eyes, then he lunges forward and scoops me up in his arms.

I squeal, clutching him close when he whirls with me in his arms. Before I have time to blink, we’re in the shower. He lowers me slowly until my feet touch the ground, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he turns and fiddles with the knobs, blocking the water until he deems it the right temperature.

While I undoubtedly resemble a drowned rat, he looks like a sea god rising from the ocean to seduce unsuspecting women. I’m so distracted that when he pulls me close, I do nothing as he proceeds to wash every inch of my body. He avoids my eyes as he takes care of me, his touch slow and teasing, a temptation like nothing I’ve ever felt. His fingertips trail over every inch of my body, just a ghost of a touch that leaves my skin tingling.

It feels like I’m being worshipped.

I grab his hands, halting him, and his attention immediately snaps to mine. I take the sponge from him, pour more soap onto it, then gently set it against his chest, totally involved in my task. Water cascades over his form, his glorious muscles flexing under my gaze, and I suddenly find my mouth dry. “I don’t want you to put me on a pedestal or worship me. I’m not fragile. I want us to be equals.”

He appears startled by my words, then hunger takes over his expression, and I find myself slammed up against the wall. Even as I gasp, his mouth covers mine, swallowing the sound. We’re almost the same height, and I take advantage of the situation by thrusting my hands into the hair that flops into his face.

We battle for dominance, our tongues dueling, and I’m unable to get enough. He leans down, grabs the back of my legs, then lifts me with an ease that makes me feel weightless. His cock nestles against my core, and I give a hum of approval.

My head is above his own, and I rest my arms over his shoulders, hugging him closer, but he doesn’t allow me to take control. Instead, he bites and sucks at my neck until I’m squirming against him. My juices quickly coat his cock, and I moan at the smooth glide of him between my legs.

It’s not long before an orgasm hovers temptingly out of reach, but I don’t want to go without him. I sink my hands into his hair, then yank his head back. A rumbled groan of pain escapes him, and he doesn’t even blink, lust darkening his brown eyes to almost black.

When I know I have his attention, I nip at his bottom lip, then pull quickly back. “More.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Leaving the water running, he kicks open the door and steps out, both of us dripping water everywhere. Without missing a beat, he carries me into the bedroom, then tosses me across the room. A squeak escapes me, and I scramble for purchase, then land hard in the middle of the bed.

I bounce once before he is on me.

He grabs my legs, flipping me on my back, and my breath leaves me in a rush. He settles himself between my knees before I can process that he’s moved. His skin is so hot that it threatens to burn me, and I relish the heat as it seeps into my soul.

Sex with him feels like a wild adventure that leaves me breathless, and I now understand why people become obsessed with love.

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