20. Roman Osprey #3
Scarlet’s fingers wrap around Wes, moving slowly. His cock pulses in her hand. She opens her eyes and looks at him. “Your turn.”
I withdraw carefully while she reaches for Wes with both hands. He bends over her, kissing her mouth, her cheek, and the tender place beneath her ear.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I want you.”
Even Wes Osprey is not immune to being handed his entire heart in four words. His eyes close for the briefest moment.
Scarlet touches his face. “You won’t hurt me. Just go slow.”
Wes kisses her palm.
I shift onto the couch and pull her against me while Wes kneels in front of her. She settles between us, her back against my chest.
This is what I love most, the way she lets herself lean back against me, trusting me to hold her weight. I tuck her closer and take hold of her chin, turning her until I can kiss her mouth.
Her breath catches against my lips when Wes takes her.
He is thicker. I feel the stretch in the way her body tightens and her lips break from mine.
My hand slides down her stomach. “Tell him.”
She swallows. “Slower.”
Wes stops before moving exactly as she asks.
He rubs her clit and barely moves. Scarlet relaxes, gripping my forearm while he slides deeper, inch by inch. When he is fully inside, his purr vibrates through all three of us.
His knot wants to swell. The restraint shows in every measured breath.
Scarlet looks at him. “You’re holding back.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you asked for my cock. You didn’t ask for my knot.”
A shiver runs through her. Her pupils widen, and her body tightens around him, but she doesn’t ask for more. Wes keeps his knot under control. There can be other nights if Scarlet chooses them. The hope in that thought surprises me.
When he is buried inside her, I circle her clit with two fingers.
She arches between us. Wes picks up the pace.
His thrusts are deep and controlled, each one pressing her forward into my hand. I kiss her while he fucks her, swallowing every sound until she stops trying to quiet them.
“Look at him,” I say.
Scarlet turns toward Wes.
His eyes lock on hers. “That’s it,” he tells her. “Let me see how good I make you feel. Show me how good you take me.”
Her body tightens. I increase the pressure on her clit and suck on her neck where a bond mark would go.
Scarlet comes with a curse on her lips and my fingers between her thighs.
Wes follows moments later, thrusting deep and holding himself there while his face presses against her.
His teeth touch skin, but they don’t close.
Scarlet’s hand finds mine and squeezes. Then Wes lifts his mouth and kisses the unbitten place.
He withdraws carefully. I keep Scarlet against me while he goes to the kitchen and returns with a warm wet cloth.
He kneels in front of her. “How you doing, sweetheart?”
She considers the question instead of dismissing it. “Tender. Good tender.”
Wes cleans her gently.
Her face turns pink.
I kiss her shoulder. “You survived being adored.”
“I’m very brave.”
“The bravest.”
Her smile is tired now but full of happiness.
Wes pulls the quilt over her legs before disappearing back into the kitchen. He returns with the pasta she refused earlier, reheated again, along with enough water to survive a minor flood.
Scarlet looks at the bowl. “I was recently very busy.”
“You were magnificent,” I tell her.
Wes sits on the coffee table in front of her. “Eat.”
Scarlet accepts the fork without arguing. She eats three bites, drinks half the water, and leans back into me. Wes lifts her legs across his lap, one palm moving slowly along her shin.
She has spent the evening giving us her body, but the fact that she trusts us to keep watch, enough to rest, makes my throat tighten.
Scarlet has fought for every safe place she has ever had.
She carved this place out of wild isolation, filled it with quilts, herbs, and books, and convinced herself solitude was the same as peace.
But right here, between the two of us, she seems to have finally found it.
Giving it to her makes me feel ten feet tall.
Her fingers find mine beneath the blanket. Her other hand rests in Wes’s open palm. For a few stolen breaths, the house holds only rain, the crackle of the record, and Scarlet’s soft purr between us.
Then my phone buzzes.
Wes’s follows half a second later.
From the porch, one of the temporary camera alerts chirps.
All three sounds cut through the afterglow.
I check my screen.
Pepper: Preliminary results.
The message is short enough to tighten my stomach, but it doesn’t explain more than that.
Wes is already standing, looking at his phone. “Camera picked up movement near the greenhouse.”
Scarlet sits up with shaky hands.
Her scent sharpens with fear, and her hands shake as she reaches for her clothes.
“Scarlet,” Wes says.
“Every time,” she whispers.
“Every time, what?” I ask.
Her green eyes lift to mine, bright with panic she is trying to turn into composure.
“Every time I get close to anyone in this town, bonds break and danger comes looking for whoever stood nearest to me.”
Then the porch light flares white through the front window. The camera alarm starts again.