Page 88 of Ruthless Salvation
I clung to him, his body snug against mine, as his short, possessive thrusts picked up speed. “Yes, Tor,” I breathed.
His angle and proximity were perfectly aligned for his body to make contact with my clit at the exact moment his cock laid claim to my G-spot. The onslaught of sensation built up a cataclysmic ball of pressure in my core almost instantly—faster than I ever imagined possible.
“Fuck, my girl takes it good.” His lips teased the skin on my neck.
I clung to Torin Byrne with all my strength. Not because I had to or needed to, but because I wanted to. I wanted every complicated inch of him—the sweet and possessive, the jealous tendencies and sincere devotion, his protectiveness and everything between—because he wasn’t one without the other. He was the sum of his imperfect parts, and I wanted all of them.
“Only for you, baby.” My orgasm overtook me as I spoke, each word more breathless than the last.
Torin’s release seemed to consume him with the same unexpected speed as my own. His body stiffened and arched with two slower, emphatic thrusts and a shuddered exhalation. And in perfect Torin style, he topped off a frenzied fuck with a breathtakingly tender kiss on my neck as if to ensure that no matter how gruff or domineering he might seem, underneath it all was pure adoration.
Present
I pulled backand breathed deeply through my nose, trying to slow my heart rate. As I did, the sight of Stormy’s tattoo peeking from her top caught my attention. I slid my finger inside the shirt’s collar, pulling it and the cup of her bra down until the entire tattoo was visible.
Stormy tried to sit up. I got the sense she was trying to sidestep the subject, but I refused to let it go.
“He gave this to you, didn’t he?” I suddenly recognized the shape for what it was—initials. The same initials I’d seen on Damyon’s stationery.
“The last time I saw him before I woke in the hospital and ran.”
I wasn’t sure what made me more furious—the fact that the bastard had branded her, or the fact that she was clearly embarrassed about it. She wouldn’t even meet my gaze.
I was going to tear that motherfucker limb from limb.
But for now, I didn’t want my fury ruining our afternoon. This was the first day we saw our son or daughter, and I didn’t want my temper marring our memories.
“And the tattoo?” I asked, hoping I’d steered us into safe waters.
Stormy smiled. “They’re fire poppies. They grow from charred soil—one for each of my parents.” Her chin trembled.
“And one for the baby?”
She nodded. “And the bee is for Honey. I wanted to cover up the ugly with the most beautiful parts of my life.”
I’d never known anyone who could find a silver lining like Storm could. Her ability to celebrate the positive was extraordinary, even when it was only one tiny clover in a giant mound of shit. I supposed it made sense, though. Only a woman with her ability would be willing to give me the time of day.
I didn’t believe in soulmates, but goddamn if the universe wasn’t arguing a sound case.
My lips came crashing down on hers. Storm giggled, but my voracious kiss quickly devoured it. I was contemplating round two when my phone began to buzz.
Fuck me.
Too much shit was in the works to ignore the call.
“Yeah?” I answered gruffly.
“Everything’s set up for the meeting. Your place in two hours.” Keir had spent the morning helping me coordinate the family.
“Good. We’ll be by your place in a few to grab her things.” I hung up and took Storm’s hand. “We need to go. I’ll explain once we’re home.”
We thanked the doctor on our way out, and I told her to get my billing info from Jonas. An hour later, we were parked in front of my apartment building.
“Leave the helmet on.” I helped her off the bike while quickly surveying the area for threats.
Being out in the open made me beyond uncomfortable. I should have taken my car, but I’d been in a rush to get to Storm, and the bike was by far the fastest mode of transportation. I hadn’t considered how exposed we’d be on the way back. Damyon was likely already monitoring my apartment building.
I could have gone to Moxy or someplace random like the skating rink we’d used for the fight to meet with my cousins, but both were too isolated. Too easily surrounded. There was safety in numbers, and my fifteen-story apartment building was a perfect stronghold. We had the high ground, which was always an advantage in war.