Chapter 54 - Faith
FAITH
Ryker kissed me.
Not gentle. Not careful. This was possession and absolution, tangled together in a clash of lips and tongue. His lips moved against mine with an urgency that made my chest ache, and I realized what I was really tasting: acceptance.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. The anger that had blazed in his eyes minutes ago had transformed into something molten, something that made heat pool low in my belly.
His hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth found my throat. My back hit the hallway wall as his hands bracketed my face, holding me still as he devoured my mouth. My fingers clawed at his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to erase every inch of space between us.
“Ryker,” I gasped when he finally let me breathe.
“Say it again.” His teeth scraped along my jaw, sending shivers racing down my spine. “My name. Say it like you mean it.”
“Ryker.” This time, it came out as a moan when his hand slid down to grip my hip, grinding me against the evidence of how much it meant to him, that I’d exposed every vulnerable fragment of my heart. How much more he wanted me for it.
We stumbled toward the bedroom, unable to stop touching, tasting, taking. My back hit the doorframe. Then the dresser. Each impact punctuated by his mouth on mine, by my hands tangling in his hair, by the desperate sounds we couldn’t hold back.
The world narrowed to just this: the taste of him, the solid warmth of his body, the way his fingers tangled in my hair, like he was afraid I might disappear.
My hands found the buttons of his shirt, working them free with trembling fingers. “Too slow,” he muttered, yanking the fabric over his head, buttons scattering across the floor. “Don’t care. I’ll buy a hundred shirts if it means I get to touch you now.”
I laughed, breathless, running my palms over all that ink and muscle, the broad planes of his chest, delighting in the way his breathing had gone shallow.
I pulled my shirt over my head. The fabric fell away, and I fought the urge to cover myself, to hide the road map of my survival written across my skin.
His eyes tracked every movement as I stripped away each layer until I stood before him in nothing but skin and scars and the vulnerability I’d spent a lifetime hiding.
“So fucking beautiful,” he breathed. “You’re a masterpiece, Faith.
Every mark tells me you survived. Every scar says you’re still here.
Still fighting.” His hand splayed across my stomach, covering the worst of them.
“You survived it all.” He bent and pressed his lips to the raised tissue. “Warrior.”
Tears burned my eyes.
Then his hands were on me, mapping every curve, every angle. He walked me backward until my legs hit the mattress. I sat, then lay back as he followed me down. The weight of him settled over me. Familiar yet entirely new.
His mouth found my throat, kissing a path down to my collarbone. “Every part of you,” he murmured against my skin. His lips traveled lower, and I gasped as he kissed the space between my breasts. “All of you.”
“I will always love every part of you. The good, the bad, the parts you think are too ugly to love.”
His words from earlier echoed through my mind as his mouth closed around one nipple, then the other, lavishing attention until I was arching into him, fingers raking through his hair.
“Dream about this every night,” he confessed against my skin, his voice wrecked. “About having you under me, over me, around me. About making you fall apart just so I can put you back together.”
“Ryker …” My voice broke on his name.
“That’s it. Love hearing you say my name like that.” His mouth traveled lower, teeth grazing my ribs, tongue tracing patterns only he could read. “Going to make you say it a thousand more times before we’re done.”
He kissed down my stomach, then along my inner thighs, pressing them wider.
When his mouth finally found my center, I cried out.
His tongue moved with purpose, with knowledge, like he’d studied exactly how to unmake me.
It moved in slow, deliberate circles, building pleasure with a patience that bordered on torture, and as he did, every nerve ending sparked to life.
My hands fisted in the sheets as he worked me higher and higher until I was trembling on the edge.
“Look at me,” he commanded, lifting his head just enough to meet my eyes. “Want to see you when you break for me.”
I forced my eyes open. The sight of him between my thighs, mouth glistening, eyes wild with desire, nearly undid me right there.
“Please,” I whimpered.
“Please what?” He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, then bit down gently, marking me. “Tell me what you need.”
“You. Just you. Please, Ryker, I need …”
“I know what you need.” His mouth returned to my center, two fingers sliding inside me, curling just right. “Let go. Stop thinking. Stop hiding. Just feel.” His mouth was on me again.
We face everything together.
A coil of tension wound tighter and tighter in my lower belly, and with every swirl of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers, it came closer and closer to snapping.
Looking down at the man between my legs, all muscles and tattoos and unconditional love, I shattered, his name torn from my throat as waves of pleasure crashed through me.
He continued working every aftershock until I was limp and gasping.
After, he kissed his way back up my body, and I could taste myself on his lips when our mouths met. The intimacy of it sent fresh heat spiraling through me.
“Wait,” I managed, pressing a hand to his chest. “Your turn.”
His eyes darkened. “Faith—”
“Sit on the edge of the bed.”
He hesitated. I could tell that in his mind, this was all supposed to be about my satisfaction. But I wanted to give it right back to him, so I was thrilled when he obeyed. I loved the hunger in his eyes as he watched me slide to my knees.
For a moment, I just looked at him—this powerful man who’d fought for me, believed in me, loved me despite everything. My hands shook as I worked his belt free, then his zipper.
When I freed him, he hissed in a breath.
His head fell back as I licked him base to tip, wetting him thoroughly before taking him into my mouth. The groan that rumbled from his chest sent liquid heat straight to my core.
I found my rhythm, taking him deeper with each pass, using my hand where my mouth couldn’t reach. His fingers tangled in my hair, and the rough, desperate sounds he made filled me with a sense of power.
“Warrior,” he groaned. “Fuck, that feels incredible.”
I hummed around him, and his hips jerked. I could feel him swelling, his thighs going rigid beneath my hands. When I glanced up through my lashes, his expression was pure need.
Suddenly, he pulled me up. “Need to be inside you.”
He lifted me like I weighed nothing, turning us so my back was on the mattress, my legs open as he knelt in front of me. Not missionary, but rather, pulling my hips up off the blanket, lining himself up at my entrance.
He pushed inside me in one smooth thrust, and we both groaned. “Fuck, Faith. You feel … you’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”
At this angle, Ryker was on his knees, my hips off the bed, and he could watch himself drive into me over and over. As he did, I loved that he didn’t keep it gentle. I loved that with every thrust, he drove deeper, harder, like he was trying to take his anger out on our bodies.
He set a rhythm that had my back arching even higher off the mattress. Every stroke hit that perfect spot inside me while his thumb ground against my sensitive flesh with each movement.
“Mine,” he growled against my throat. “Say it again, Faith. Tell me you’re mine.”
“Yours,” I gasped, nails clawing at the comforter. “And you’re mine.”
“Fuck yes, I am.” His pace increased, each thrust punctuated by promises.
This wasn’t just sex. It was a vow.
I’ve got you, and I’m not letting go.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and I forced my eyes open to meet his. The intensity there nearly undid me. “Want to watch you come apart.”
His thumb started working even harder, circling that bundle of nerves. Pressing. Stroking. All while his gaze remained locked on mine, reading the tempo of my body, the parting of my lips.
Tension coiled in my lower belly, ready to snap.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, voice rough with restraint.
“Ryker, I’m going to …”
“I know, Warrior. I can feel you. So tight around me. So perfect.” His thumb pressed harder, circled faster. “Come for me. Show me how free you are when you let go.”
Then, with our eyes still locked, I broke.
Pleasure ripped through me in waves, my body clenching around him as he grunted and pushed and thrust harder and deeper inside of me.
Through it all, I kept my eyes locked on his—watching him watch me, seeing myself reflected in his gaze. Not broken. Not damaged.
Loved.
“Fucking perfect,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering. “My perfect, beautiful warrior.”
He followed moments later with a groan. I felt him pulse inside me, felt the way his whole body shuddered with release, and something primal and possessive unfurled in my chest.
This man was mine.
We stayed like that for a long moment, hearts racing, breath mingling, our bodies still joined.
“I see you, Faith,” he said softly. “The real you. And she’s perfect.”
Tears burned my eyes.
He rolled us so I was draped across his chest, his arms banded around me like he was afraid I might drift away.
I listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, felt the rise and fall of his breathing, and something inside me that had been clenched tight for as long as I could remember finally, finally relaxed.
“What happens now?” I whispered into the darkness.
“Now?” His hand stroked down my spine, mapping each vertebra like he was memorizing me. “We fight.”
“And if we don’t win?”
“Not an option.” His voice went hard, protective. “I found you, Faith. After thirty-five years of searching for something I couldn’t even name, I found you. I’ll burn down hell itself before I let anything take you from me.”
The ferocity in his voice should have scared me. Instead, it made me feel safe. Protected. Chosen.
I pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart, and as we lay there, I realized something: This is what it feels like to finally, truly be seen. And accepted.
I could only hope it wouldn’t all be ripped from both of us …