Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
Gemma lingered near the cot, her fingers brushing one of the blankets like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to touch it.
“Hey,” he said softly, closing the distance. “It’s ours for now. Sit.”
She eased onto the edge of the cot, tucking her legs beneath her.
He sat beside her, close enough their knees touched.
The tent’s stale air wrapped around them like a sheath.
For the first time since they’d run from Zion, no one was watching.
No one was demanding. Here, there was no barrier.
No distance, no guards, no walls. Just them.
Gemma’s hand found his, her thumb brushing over his knuckles in that small, grounding motion she’d used earlier. “You hit him pretty hard.”
He huffed. “Didn’t feel like enough.”
“You didn’t have to defend me like that.”
“Yes, I did,” he replied without hesitation. “He’s spent my whole life treating me like a piece of equipment that didn’t meet spec. I wasn’t letting him treat you like that for even a second.”
Her gaze softened, but there was still a question there. “Does it bother you to see him here?”
Christian stared at the thermal rug for a long moment.
“Bother’s not the word. I’ve spent years making sure I didn’t end up like him, and now here he is, acting like I ruined some perfect future he never lifted a finger to build.
” He shook his head. “Dad and I were never close, but . . . I don’t know.
It’s like I’m still waiting for him to see I’m more than the kid he traded away. ”
“You are. You always have been.”
He looked at her then, and the worried love reflected in her big, beautiful, blue eyes undid every knot he’d tied to keep himself steady over the last few weeks. Even in the cave, he’d forced himself to stay strong, but now, with the chance to breathe and the woman he loved at his side . . .
Christian reached for her hand as if he needed proof she was still here. She let him take it, her fingers cool against his palm at first, then curling into his like they’d been desperate for the chance.
The ache in his chest sharpened, pulling the words before he could stop them. “Stars, I thought I’d lost you for good.”
She swallowed, her jaw tightening. “You almost did.”
That admission landed between them like a live wire.
Her chin trembled, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
Christian closed his eyes and breathed in the joy of having her so close to him again.
Everything else—the hum of the battery lamp, the muted voices outside, the contempt for his father—fell away.
For several moments they simply sat there as if they both needed the pause to remind themselves this was real. Then Gemma spoke.
“I hated every second without you.” The quiet quiver in her voice tore at his heart.
He shifted so he could better see her face and brushed away the still-damp strands of dark hair that clung to her cheek. “You’re not spending another second without me if I can help it.”
Her eyelids fluttered when she sighed. A cord seemed to loosen inside her as relaxation began to take hold. He brushed her cheek with his thumb, and she leaned her forehead against his.
“Stars, I want to kiss you so badly,” he said.
“I was hoping you would.”
His heart fluttered as he nuzzled his nose against hers, tipping their heads up until their lips found each other. He kissed her slow and deep, feeding as much emotion into it as possible. He needed her to feel how much he loved her. How much he’d always be here, no matter what happened.
Gemma pulled away first, tucking her head beneath his chin. Her hand fisted the front of his shirt.
Christian wrapped both arms around her, thanking Illari that he hadn’t been too late.
“I thought when I lost control again, that would be it,” she said, “but when I saw those Systems soldiers, I panicked. If you hadn’t pulled me aside, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I don’t know who I would’ve hurt.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You didn’t, though. That’s what matters.”
“I didn’t because you pulled me back.” She lifted her head off his chest, and her gaze was unflinching. “You might be the only thing that can pull me back, Christian. And I hate it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m supposed to be stronger than that. I want to be stronger than that. You shouldn’t have to spend so much time worrying about me.”
“I’m happy to do it.”
Gemma shook her head and went to open her mouth, but Christian placed a finger against her lips. “It takes more courage to admit you need help and ask for it than to try to go at it alone.”
Lysa had taught him that lesson mere days ago. It was something he would learn to live by.
Her shoulders fell as she sighed through her nose. Her gaze traveled to the faint tattoo on her forearm. Christian took her arm in his hand and stroked his thumb across the veins of violet. She didn’t need to be wary or embarrassed. He didn’t care what she looked like. Just that she was here.
She broke the silence. “Will you help me then? If I start to lose control again, will you—”
“I’ll be here to remind you how strong you are. You’ll never be alone in this again.”
He lifted his free hand to her cheek, brushing his thumb over her soft lips. Her skin was still warm from the shower, smooth under his thumb.
Gemma didn’t look away. Whatever walls she’d been holding up since Zion weren’t just cracking. They were gone.
“I missed you,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I missed you more,” he replied, closing the space between them.
Her mouth met his with a need that mirrored his own, pulling weeks of separation into one unbroken moment. His pulse surged. She was his everything—his anchor, his undoing, his salvation—and having her here made it almost impossible to remember they’d ever been apart.
Gemma climbed into his lap, straddling his legs, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
She kissed him with so much fervor that a chill ran up his spine.
His cock was hard in seconds. It had been way too long since he’d made love to her, and he was feeling it.
Not just the physical absence, but the emotional one too.
With her, his walls could come down. He could show her his blackened soul, and she’d choose him anyway.
She was serenity.
His hands on her ass, Christian opened her mouth with his, and his tongue found hers. She shifted closer, sliding her hands up into his hair and tugging gently. He drew her in until there was nothing left between them but the heat of her body and the steady pull of her breath.
He rested his forehead against hers. “Do you think you can be quiet?”
“I’ll try, but no promises.” She nibbled his earlobe before sucking lightly on the side of his neck.
He couldn’t keep from shifting his hips so his cock rubbed between her legs.
Smirking, she slid off his lap and backed away—close enough that he could reach her, but far enough that he could drink in every inch of her body.
Gemma’s hands moved to the hem of her shirt, and she lifted it over her head. At the sight of her small, perfect breasts and peaked nipples, Christian let out a long, slow breath. They were even better than he remembered.
At a painstakingly slow pace, she lowered her trousers and underwear, standing before him on full display.
In the warm lamp light, it hit him like a punch to the chest how much he’d missed her. Every curve, every breath.
His heartbeat thrashing in his ears, Christian took off his own shirt, trousers, and underwear before sitting back down on the edge of their cot. She bit her bottom lip as her eyes flicked from his face to his cock and back up again. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Come here,” he said, and she took the hand he extended. When she stood before him, straddling his legs, he kissed her stomach, and she whimpered a response.
“Stars, I love you,” he said, slipping two fingers inside her, slow and deliberate, coaxing soft, muffled sounds from her lips. She reached for his shoulders when her legs weakened, and the way she shook against him . . . Fuck, he’d forgotten what it felt like to have her like this.
Christian took one of her nipples into his mouth, and her legs quivered.
The sound of her broken moans as she tried so hard to stay quiet made his cock ache.
Everything in him wanted to hear her scream as she came all over his fingers.
But they were in a tent, inside a stone water basin, where noises carried.
Relenting, he groaned against her breast and removed his fingers. She whimpered, reaching for his cock, but he grabbed her hand.
“Turn around,” he said, his voice low and gruff.
Gemma’s eyes were so bright with need. He almost tossed her on the cot and made love to her so hard that she forgot every worry. But right now, she needed to feel adored and cherished and wanted. And that meant staying gentle and making sure her every need was met.
When her back was to him, Christian eased her down onto him, groaning into her shoulder at how ready she was for him.
A small noise escaped her, raw and needy, and it nearly undid him.
Then she began to move against him, and all thought disappeared. Every nerve in his body tingled. Nothing else mattered but the feel of her. The smell of her. The taste of her.
Christian drew her to him so her back pressed against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her, teasing her clit as he thrust himself into her again and again. Faster. Harder. Gemma squirmed, no longer in control of the cries of pleasure that escaped her.
He covered her mouth with his other hand to keep her quiet. “Come for me, love.”
She held her breasts, pinching her nipples, moaning into his palm.
She came so hard that her legs shook. Christian bit her shoulder, groaning as her pussy tightened around him. Waves of euphoria brought fleshbumps to his skin, and he followed her over the edge.
The soft violet tattoo on her arm began to glow, spilling light up her neck and across her bare chest. The battery lamp shot from its stand like it had been yanked by an invisible hand. Its light flickered like a strobe as it crashed against the tent’s wall and tumbled to the ground.
The air thickened, buzzing with a charge that made the hair on his arms stand up. Every instinct screamed to shield his head and brace for impact, but this was Gemma. The woman he loved. The woman he’d happily die for.
She dug her nails into his arms and leaned forward, screaming behind clenched teeth as a burning purple light poured from her palms into his skin. Heat prickled his arms like tiny needles, sharp enough to make his breath catch.
He forced his voice to steady. “I got you, Gem. You’re all right. Calm your heart rate. Concentrate on your breathing.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He stroked her waist with his thumb in a steady, slow rhythm. “Feel that? Focus on that and only that. Shut everything else out.”
Her breaths were loud and labored, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure he could pull her back.
The violet glow from beneath her palms grew into a sweltering heat.
He ground his teeth to keep from reacting to the pain.
Then her gasps began to hitch less, and the tension in her frame softened.
The blaze in her palms cooled and faded.
Gemma’s grip on his arms released, the light from her tattoo dulling to a faint shimmer. She sagged back against him. “Thank you.”
“Always.” He kissed the side of her neck, letting his own heartbeat slow. “I guess we probably shouldn’t have sex for a while, huh?”
She snorted. “That’s a sad thought.”
“Hey, at least I can say I’m literally electrifying in bed.”
Gemma laughed, coaxing a wide grin onto his face. He loved that sound so much.
They dressed and slid under the blankets. Her back fit so perfectly against his chest. Christian closed his eyes and held her as if the act itself could keep her safe.
For the first time in weeks, he didn’t think about escape routes or the next fight. Tonight, she was here. And so was he.