Chapter 21 Lorenth
LORENTH
The bond sits quiet in my chest—this muted whisper where there should be roaring certainty. I fucking hate it. Hate the silence, the distance, the inability to feel her the way I did this morning when we first connected.
But she's here.
In my arms, against my mouth, breathing and whole and mine.
The physical reality of Senna pressed beneath me grounds the wild panic that's been clawing through my chest since the bond went silent.
I can feel her heartbeat against mine, taste her on my tongue, hear the small sounds she makes when I deepen the kiss.
It's not the bond. But it's enough.
Has to be enough until I figure out how to fix whatever Darian forced down her throat.
I try to gentle the kiss. Try to pull back before I overwhelm her, before I take too much when she's already been through hell today. She just survived a beating. Just watched me kill a man. Should probably need space, time to process everything that happened.
But Senna makes a frustrated sound against my mouth and kisses me harder.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails catching fabric as she arches up into me.
The movement presses every inch of her body against mine—soft curves molding to hard muscle, heat bleeding through the layers of clothing between us.
She kisses me like she's drowning and I'm air. Like she needs this as much as I do.
More, maybe.
I groan into her mouth, giving her what she's demanding. My tongue sweeps deeper, tasting her thoroughly while my hand slides from her hair to grip her hip. Holding her steady as I rock against her, letting her feel exactly how much I want this. Want her.
The small gasp she makes shoots straight to my cock.
Fuck.
I should stop. Should give her time to breathe, to recover, to—
She breaks the kiss first, panting against my mouth. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with something that has nothing to do with fear. Storm-gray turned almost black with want.
"I need you." The words come out rough. Desperate. "Need your hands to replace all the hurt. Please."
The plea breaks something in my chest.
This stunning, brave woman who's survived years of abuse asking me to give her pleasure. To replace pain with touch that actually matters. That actually cares.
"I'll give you anything." The promise rumbles through my chest, absolute. "Everything. Whatever you need."
Her answering smile is tremulous but real. Trusting in a way that makes me want to tear apart anyone who ever made her doubt she deserved this.
I shift back onto my knees, giving myself room to work. My hands find the hem of her shirt—one of the new ones we bought together, now dusty from the road. I pull it up slowly, watching her face for any sign of hesitation.
She lifts her arms to help.
The fabric slides away and I toss it aside without looking where it lands.
Can't look anywhere except at the expanse of warm brown skin revealed beneath.
The soft curves of her breasts constrained by the simple undergarment.
The flat plane of her stomach that should be covered in bruises but shows nothing except smooth, unblemished skin.
My magic worked.
Healed every mark Darian left on her.
I lean down and press my mouth to her ribs, right where I know his boot connected. She shivers under my lips, fingers threading through my hair as I kiss across her stomach. Trailing my mouth over every place that bastard hurt her, replacing violence with reverence.
"Beautiful." The word vibrates against her skin. "So fucking beautiful."
She makes this small, choked sound that might be a laugh or a sob. "Lorenth—"
I silence her with another kiss to her stomach, hands sliding around to work the fastenings of her trousers. She lifts her hips to help and I peel them down her legs along with her undergarments, baring her completely.
Gods.
She's perfect. All soft curves and warm skin stretched out on my bed like some kind of offering. The late afternoon light streaming through the window catches on the faint sheen of arousal between her thighs, evidence that she wants this as much as I do.
My cock throbs against the confines of my trousers, demanding I do something about the gorgeous woman spread beneath me. But I force myself to slow down. To savor this.
I press kisses up the inside of her thigh, feeling her muscles quiver under my mouth. "I'm going to worship every inch of you."
"Later." Her voice is breathless. Urgent. "I need you now."
The desperate edge to her words makes me look up, meeting storm-gray eyes dark with want. She's propped on her elbows, watching me with an intensity that steals breath.
"Please." The whisper breaks on the word. "I need to feel you. Need to know this is real."
Fuck.
I surge up her body, capturing her mouth in a kiss that's all heat and claiming. She melts into it, arms wrapping around my neck to pull me closer. I settle more fully between her thighs, letting her feel the hard length of my cock pressing against her through my trousers.
She rocks against me with a whimper that shoots straight through my control.
Right. Need to get these clothes off before I come in my fucking pants like some untried boy.
I break the kiss long enough to strip my shirt over my head, not caring when fabric tears. Senna's hands immediately find my chest, fingers tracing the defined muscles like she's trying to memorize the shape of me through touch alone.
Her exploration pauses when she finds the scar across my ribs. The raised line of tissue from a life I don't talk about. She traces it gently, brow furrowing with unspoken questions.
"Old injury." I catch her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Doesn't matter."
What matters is getting the rest of these clothes off. I make quick work of my boots and trousers, shoving them aside without ceremony. My cock springs free, hard and aching, and Senna's sharp inhale makes satisfaction curl through my chest.
She wants this. Wants me.
Even with the bond sitting quiet, I can see it in her eyes. Feel it in the way her thighs part wider in invitation, in the flush spreading across her skin, in the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
I settle back over her, bracing on my forearms so I don't crush her. My hips align with hers and the feel of her slick heat against my bare cock makes us both groan.
"Lorenth." My name is a plea.
"I've got you." I press a kiss to her jaw. Her cheekbone. The corner of her mouth. "I'm always going to take care of you."
I should probably flip positions so I can set the pace. Control this so I don't hurt her. But before I can move, an idea strikes—one that makes heat coil tighter in my gut.
I roll, taking her with me until our positions reverse. Senna makes a startled sound as she ends up straddling my hips, thighs spread wide around me. Her hands brace on my chest for balance, storm-gray eyes going wide.
"What—"
"I want to see you ride me." My hands find her hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. "Want to watch you take your pleasure. See you in pure bliss."
Her breath catches. "I've never—"
"I know." And fuck if that doesn't make this better. Knowing I'm the first person to ever let her have control. To give her the power to take what she needs instead of just enduring what's done to her. "You're in charge, Senna. Take whatever you want."
For a moment she just stares at me, like she can't quite believe this is real. That I'm actually giving her this. Then something shifts in her expression—uncertainty replaced by determination edged with heat.
She rocks forward experimentally.
The movement drags her slick pussy along the length of my cock and we both groan. Her hands splay wider on my chest, nails digging in slightly as she does it again. Slower this time, grinding down until I can feel how wet she is. How ready.
"Fuck." The word grinds out between clenched teeth. "That's it. Take what you need."
She establishes a rhythm—rolling her hips in slow, deliberate strokes that coat my cock in her arousal. Each pass of her pussy along my length makes pleasure spike through me, makes my hands tighten on her hips hard enough to leave marks.
I watch her face. Watch the way her eyes flutter shut, the small furrow between her brows as she concentrates on the sensation. The way her lips part on silent gasps.
Absolutely fucking stunning.
My hips rock up to meet her movements, grinding my cock against her clit on each pass. The added friction makes her cry out, head falling back as the pleasure clearly intensifies.
"You're soaking me." The words come out rough. Wrecked. "Feel how wet you are? How much you want this?"
"Yes." The whisper is barely audible. "Gods, yes."
She grinds down harder, pace increasing as she chases the sensation. Her breasts bounce with each movement and I can't resist—one hand releases her hip to palm the soft weight, thumb brushing across her nipple.
The responding whimper makes my cock throb.
I'm ready to fucking beg. Ready to flip her over and drive into her tight heat until we both forget everything except this. But watching her take control, seeing her discover what feels good, is too perfect to interrupt.
Even if it's killing me.
"Lorenth." My name is breathless. Desperate. "I need—"
"What do you need?" I roll her nipple between thumb and forefinger, watching her shudder. "Tell me."
"You." She shifts her hips, angling until the head of my cock catches at her entrance. "Inside. Please."
Gods.
"Take it then." My hands return to her hips but I don't guide her. Don't control. Just hold on and watch. "Show me how badly you want my cock."
She sinks down slowly.
The tight, wet heat of her pussy engulfs me inch by perfect inch. My entire body goes rigid with the effort of staying still, of letting her set the pace instead of just thrusting up into that exquisite grip.