Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
ELENA
Being married to Ryder feels strangely natural.
That should probably concern me more than it does.
I wake the morning after the wedding tangled in clean sheets in a room that now somehow belongs to both of us.
Sunlight spills through the curtains in soft gold streaks while the distant sound of motorcycles drifts through the clubhouse grounds below.
For one blissful second, I forget everything. Then memory returns. Grant. The danger I'm in, the wedding and Ryder. My gaze shifts toward the couch automatically. Empty. Disappointment hits before I can stop it.
I sit up slowly, wincing slightly at the ache still lingering in my ribs. The bedroom door opens a second later, and Ryder steps inside carrying coffee and a paper bag that smells like cinnamon. His eyes lock onto mine instantly. Everything in him softens.
“Morning, wife.”
Heat floods my face so fast it’s embarrassing. The corner of his mouth twitches slightly. He likes that reaction. Dangerous man.
“You left,” I murmur.
“I was getting food, not abandoning you.”
The fact he understood what I actually meant makes my chest tighten painfully. Ryder sets the drinks down before handing me a warm pastry.
“Eat.”
“You’re very bossy for a husband.”
“Gets worse.”
I laugh softly. God. The sound still surprises me. Ryder watches me carefully while I eat, leaning against the dresser with his coffee in one hand. Relaxed posture. Not relaxed eyes. Never relaxed eyes.
“What?” I ask eventually.
“You slept through the night.”
I blink. He’s right. No nightmares, panic or waking up gasping. My throat tightens unexpectedly.
“You noticed.”
“Always notice.”
The rough honesty in his voice sends warmth spreading through me. I look down at the wedding ring on my finger. Simple silver band. Heavy in the best way. Not ownership. Choice. Ryder notices me staring at it.
“Regretting it already?”
I look up sharply. “No.”
His expression changes instantly. Something softer. Something dangerously hopeful.
“Good,” he says quietly.
Silence settles between us. Not awkward. Intimate. The kind that sneaks up slowly until suddenly it’s everywhere. Ryder pushes off the dresser eventually and crouches in front of me beside the bed.
“Are you hurting anywhere?”
I shake my head automatically. His eyebrow lifts.
“Truth.”
I sigh. “My ribs still ache.”
“Let me see.”
The request sends awareness skittering through me instantly.
Not fear. Awareness. I slowly lift the edge of the oversized shirt I’m wearing.
Ryder’s jaw tightens immediately at the bruises still fading along my side.
His fingertips brush lightly against my skin.Careful, gentle and warm causing my breath catches. Ryder stills instantly.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
He searches my face carefully. “Tell me if you’re not.”
“I will.” And I mean it.
That’s the terrifying part. I trust him enough to mean it.
Ryder grabs the medicated cream from the bedside table and carefully rubs some along the worst bruising.
His hands are rough from years of fighting and riding, but he touches me like I’m something precious.
No one’s ever touched me like that before.
Emotion swells so suddenly it catches me off guard.
“Hey,” Ryder murmurs immediately.
A tear slips free before I can stop it. Embarrassing. I look away sharply. But Ryder’s hand slides gently beneath my chin, guiding my gaze back to him.
“What happened?”
The question opens something inside me. Maybe because he asks instead of demands, this room feels safe and he’s my husband now.
“I stopped recognizing myself,” I whisper. “Toward the end.”
Ryder says nothing. Just listens.
“Grant controlled everything. What I wore. Who I saw. How I spoke.” My throat tightens. “He’d apologize afterward sometimes. Buy gifts. Tell me I made him angry because I embarrassed him.” Ryder’s entire body goes still.
“He made me feel crazy,” I whisper. “Like maybe I deserved it.”
“You didn’t.”
The force behind the words nearly shakes the room. My eyes burn.
“He isolated me so slowly I didn’t even realize I had nobody left.”
Ryder’s hand tightens slightly against my jaw. “You have people now.”
Emotion crashes into me so hard it hurts. Because he means it. The club means it. And somehow that matters more than I can explain. My voice shakes slightly.
“What if I’m too damaged?”
Ryder’s expression darkens instantly. “Don’t say that.”
“But—”
“Elena.” His voice turns rough. “What happened to you isn’t damage. It’s scars. Difference is, scars mean you survived.”
My chest cracks wide open. Before I can think better of it, I lean forward and kiss him.
Ryder makes a low sound in his throat instantly.
One hand slides into my hair while the other anchors at my waist. Heat rushes through me violently.
But even now, even kissing me like he’s starving, Ryder leaves space for me to pull away.
When he finally breaks the kiss, his forehead rests against mine. Curling me up beside him in bed.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters.
The words send heat spiraling low in my stomach. I smile faintly.
“Maybe I’m starting to.”
Ryder’s mouth curves slowly against mine before he kisses me again, deeper this time, the scrape of his stubble against my skin making heat bloom everywhere at once.
Morning light spills across the bed, tangled sheets barely covering us. His body presses into mine, warm, solid, tattooed muscle and rough hands and I swear I still feel the echo of last night everywhere.
His wedding ring brushes my thigh as his hand slides higher.
“Still can’t believe you’re mine,” he says roughly against my lips.
The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver through me.
“I was always gonna be yours,” I whisper.
Ryder groans low in his throat like the words physically hit him. His forehead drops briefly to my shoulder before he kisses down my neck slowly, lazily, like he enjoys hearing every shaky breath he pulls from me.
“Careful,” he mutters. “Keep talking like that and I’m never letting you leave this cabin.”
I smile, breathless already. “Maybe I don’t want to.”
His eyes lift to mine then dark, hungry, completely ruined for me.
“Jesus Christ.”
The next kiss is all heat. His hand slides over my waist, gripping firmly as he pulls me against him. I can feel exactly how much he wants me, and the realization makes my stomach tighten deliciously.
“Ryder…” His name leaves me softer this time.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“That smug biker confidence is really annoying.”
He grins against my skin. “Didn’t seem annoying last night.”
Heat rushes straight to my face. He laughs quietly at that, deep and rough, before rolling over me carefully. Every movement is controlled strength, every touch deliberate. Even now, with the tension burning between us, he watches me like I matter more than his own restraint.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
The tenderness nearly undoes me more than the hunger. I nod. “More than okay.”
His expression darkens with want. “Good,” he murmurs, kissing me slowly again. “Because I’ve been trying real hard not to wake my wife up by doing something reckless.”
My pulse jumps hard at wife. He notices immediately.
“Yeah,” he says softly, smug all over again. “You like that?”
I bite my lip, and Ryder’s eyes drop to my mouth instantly. “That’s dangerous, sweetheart.”
Then his hand slides down my thigh, slow enough to make me ache for it, and suddenly the teasing turns into something hotter.
Hungrier. The room fills with soft breaths, tangled limbs, and quiet laughter between kisses while Ryder takes his time reminding me exactly what we promised each other the night before.
His lips find my nipples and a sharp breath leaves me instantly. Ryder groans softly against my skin like he enjoys every reaction he pulls from me, every tremble, every helpless sound.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs roughly.
Heat floods my entire body.
One of his hands slides into mine above my head while the other strokes slowly along my waist and thigh, grounding me even as he completely unravels me.
His fingers finally settle between my legs as quickly glaces at me to check I am okay.
With my nod his grin turns feral, slowly he kisses his way down my body so his lips join his fingers, slowly stroking me.
My body bows off the bed as his tongue traces the full length of my lips and circles my clit, as his fingers enter me.
His name leaves my lips like a prayer. He continues to torture me, the feeling building higher and higher but just feels out of reach.
I run my fingers through his hair as he kisses his way back up my body, taking his time like he’s memorizing me all over again.
“The first time you cum will be on my cock” he growls at me, making my whole body break out in tingles. His weight is on top of me, as he threads his fingers through mine, needing every inch of us to be anchored together. I feel the tip of his cock at my entrance and then hes pushing into me.
“You okay?” he asks, panting like this is affecting him as much as me.
“So full, move… please” I beg needing more, my body vibrating from the need building and the feeling of him filling me so perfecting.
He starts to move, slowly at first and then a punishing pace that causes me to scream out his name.
“That’s it baby, give it all to your husband, cum for me” he moaning in my ear.
The demand and the husband part causes me to fly over the edge.
The pleasure and euphoria takes over me and I’m pretty sure I nearly black out for a second, Ryder moves quicker now, completely losing control as he joins me, my name falling from his lips is pure heaven.
He falls next to me, gathering me in his arms as we try to get our breathing back under control, my body is still tingling as his fingers trace my back as mine trace his chest.
“Wow, never been so good. Give me five minutes and were going again” he groans, causing me to giggle.
A knock slams against the bedroom door. Ryder growls under his breath. Knuckles yells through the wood “Sorry to interrupt marital activities, but we need you.”
Ryder closes his eyes briefly. “I’m gonna kill him.”
Despite everything, I laugh. And Ryder looks at me like hearing that sound might be his new favorite thing in the world.