Chapter 18

chapter

eighteen

Living in fear isn't really living, is it?

His words echoed in her mind. She had been living in fear long before the Shadow Stalker took her. Fear of her past, fear of her future, fear of the unknown. She'd avoided anything that could potentially harm her, she'd avoided truly living.

She was tired of it.

She wanted to live.

She wanted him.

"Yes." The word was barely out of her mouth when he closed the distance between them, and their lips met in a kiss that shot fire through every nerve in her body.

The world disappeared in that instant and all she knew was Sawyer. She was acutely aware of every point where his body touched hers—the curve of his bicep under her fingers, the firm muscles of his abdomen against her own, his strong thighs beneath hers, the growing ridge of his erection. And always, there were his hands—mapping her face, tangling in her hair, tracing the curves of her body—as though he was committing every inch of her to memory.

Sawyer pulled back, but only slightly. "Wait. Lucy, you're injured." There was an urgency in his voice that matched the pounding of her own heart. "Are you sure you're okay for this?"

"Yes," she said again without hesitation.

His mouth reclaimed hers with an intensity that took her breath away. It was raw and full of a burning desire that ignited her from within. His hands roamed over her body, tracing the outline of her figure. The heat of his touch sent a tremor through her, making her arch closer into him.

His fingers laced through her hair, tilting her head back to give him better access. He traced a line down her throat with his lips, causing her to gasp and close her eyes. The sensation was irresistible—every touch from him was lighting her up like a sparkler.

"Sawyer," she breathed out, her voice shaky. Her fingers dug into his back as she clung to him, feeling completely and utterly consumed by the man.

"Tell me if you want to stop," he whispered against the shell of her ear. His hot breath caused a shiver to run down her spine.

"No," she choked out. "God, don't stop."

A growl of approval rumbled from his chest. "Good. I want to touch every inch of you. Taste every inch. Feel all of you." He shifted her, positioning himself so that his erection was impossible to ignore. There were too many fucking layers of clothes between them. She wanted to be skin-to-skin.

Still, she moved her hips experimentally and he groaned, his fingers clenching around her hips, guiding her. Their mouths met again in a heated clash of teeth and tongues. Hot, fast, desperate kisses. He tugged on her lower lip with his teeth before plunging his tongue back into her mouth.

His hands went to the hem of her shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of her waist as they slipped underneath the material. The air between them crackled with anticipation as he slowly guided her shirt up and over her head, leaving her in her bra and hiking pants. He traced his fingers over her collarbones and down to the swell of her breasts, his touch light but sending a current of desire down her center.

She captured his mouth with hers again, desperate to feel him. She fumbled with the belt of his pants, then moved up to unbutton his shirt, revealing the strong muscles of his chest underneath. He had a tattoo on his pec of a compass rose, the intricate design drawn with such precision that she could almost feel the points of the compass.

She didn't know why that surprised her.

She traced it gently with her fingers, memorizing the texture and pattern under her fingertips. "When did you get this?"

"I told you how after I lost my sight, I was fucked up. I was lost for a long time." His voice was soft, a gentle rumble against her ear. "The compass was to remind myself that I can still find my way, even if I can't see the path." He groaned softly and dropped his lips to her bare shoulder. "Fuck, I wish I could see you right now."

Her heart ached at his words—the regret, the longing, the subtle undercurrent of frustration.

She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over the stubble on his jawline. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

His brief smile told her he recognized those words. They were the same ones he'd said to her in that cave when he appeared out of the darkness to rescue her.

She kissed him deeply, tangling her fingers in his hair like she couldn't get close enough of him—and God, she couldn't. As their tongues danced together, she continued her exploration of him, feeling the hard ridges of his abs under her fingertips and the trail of hair that led tantalizingly below the waistband of his pants.

She shifted away from him enough to pull down his zipper. His cock strained against his boxers, thick and long, desperate for her touch. She obliged him, stroking him through the fabric until he let out a strangled groan, and his hands clamped around her wrist so tightly it almost hurt.

Lightning fast, he shifted so she was now underneath him, her legs wrapped around his hips. He pumped once against her.

Still too much fabric.

"God, Lucy…" he muttered, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. "I want you."

She was wet with arousal, aching for him to fill her up and complete her in ways she didn't even know she was missing. "Then take me."

"You're injured."

"I'm okay." To prove it, she lifted her hips, rubbing herself against his erection.

"Fuck, Luce," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. She could hear the internal battle in his voice, the war between lust and his overactive protective streak. "I don't want to hurt you."

She grinned up at him, her lips swollen from their intense kisses. "I promise I'm okay." Her hands found his face again, tracing the rough patches of his five o'clock shadow and messy hair. She tangled her fingers into the strands, pulling him down for another deep kiss. He groaned into it, his mouth opening wider to allow her tongue deeper access, as if he couldn't get enough of the taste of her. He spread her legs wider with his thighs, grinding against her entrance, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her entire body.

"Undress me," she whispered against his lips.

Right then, Zelda tried to nuzzle between them.

Sawyer growled in annoyance and pushed her away. "No," he said firmly. "Go lay down, Zelda. You're not invited."

Zelda whined softly but obediently padded away. She circled a couple times under a tree, then laid down in a huff with her back to them.

"Did she listen?" he asked.

Lucy laughed. "Yes. Poor girl's not happy about being left out."

Sawyer grinned, trailing his fingers along her collarbone. "She'll survive." His mouth followed his fingers, leaving a scalding trail over her skin. "I'm not stopping what we're doing for anything short of the apocalypse at this point. Now where were we?"

"I think you were about to undress me."

"Ah, yes." He lifted her enough to find the clasp of her bra, deftly unhooking it. He pulled it away, revealing her breasts to the cool night air. His calloused palms cupped the soft mounds, thumbs grazing over her pebbled nipples and eliciting a gasp from her.

"You're so soft," he murmured against her skin as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down her sternum. "So perfect."

Lucy arched into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders as jolts of electric desire shot straight to her core. Her hips rocked up, seeking friction against the impressive bulge straining his boxers.

Sawyer left a trail of scorching kisses down the valley between her breasts, his stubble scraping deliciously against her sensitive skin. His lips closed around one rosy peak, swirling his tongue and sucking gently, drawing a keening moan from deep in her throat. His hand palmed her other breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers until she was panting and writhing beneath him.

"Sawyer, please," she breathed, desperation coloring her voice. The ache between her thighs was becoming unbearable. She needed him, all of him, now.

He released her nipple with a wet pop, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want."

She grabbed his wrist and guided his hand down her body to the waistband of her pants. "Touch me."

He popped open the button of her hiking pants and tugged down the zipper with deliberate slowness, his knuckles brushing against her lower belly and making her shiver with need. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and peeled them down. His hands caressed back up her legs, his calluses rasping deliciously along her sensitive flesh.

When he reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his fingers hovering just shy of where she needed him most. "You're so wet for me. I can smell your arousal."

She whimpered as he rubbed her through the damp fabric, applying just enough pressure to drive her wild but not nearly enough to satisfy the ache building inside her.

He finally slipped a finger inside her slick folds, groaning at the feel of her. "Christ, Lucy. You're soaked."

She could only moan in response as he stroked her, his fingers mapping her most intimate places with devastating accuracy. He circled her clit, making her hips jerk up off the blanket.

"That's it," he murmured approvingly. "Let me make you feel good."

He slid a second finger into her tight channel, pumping slowly as his thumb kept up its maddening pressure on her clit. White hot pleasure lanced through her, coiling tighter with each thrust of his fingers. Her inner muscles clenched around him, trying to pull him deeper.

"Sawyer," she panted, her walls fluttering around his fingers as she climbed higher and higher. "I'm so close..."

He captured her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her cries of pleasure as he increased the speed of his fingers, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot inside her. His thumb circled her clit faster, tighter, sending her hurtling toward the edge.

"That's it, baby," he rasped against her lips. "Come for me."

His words were her undoing. Her orgasm slammed into her, pleasure crashing over her in wave after wave. She cried out his name, her body shaking with the force of her release.

Sawyer worked her through it, drawing out her pleasure until she was boneless and trembling beneath him. He pressed soft kisses to her face, her neck, her shoulder as she slowly floated back down to earth.

"You're so beautiful when you come," he murmured, nuzzling her neck. "The sounds you make, the way you feel… I could happily spend the rest of my life making you feel that good."

She could only hum in blissed out agreement, her body limp and sated. But she wasn't done with him yet. Not even close.

She wanted more, needed all of him. With trembling fingers, she reached for the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down over his hips, freeing his straining erection.

He was magnificent, thick and heavy in her palm as she wrapped her fingers around his length. Sawyer hissed in a breath at her touch, his hips flexing involuntarily.

"I need you inside me," she whispered, guiding him to her entrance. "Please, Sawyer. I want you."

He groaned, the blunt head of his cock nudging against her slick folds. "I don't have any condoms."

"I have a birth control implant. And I'm healthy. I haven't… not since before…" She swallowed hard and he captured her lips with his, kissing her gently.

"No thinking about the past. Focus on now. On us." The broad head of his cock nudged at her entrance and they both moaned at the contact. He rocked against her, coating himself in her slickness, but made no move to enter her yet. His hand slid down to where they were almost joined, his fingers stroking over her sensitive flesh before wrapping a hand around his base.

"I'm clean, too," he rasped and rested his forehead against hers, their ragged breaths mingling. "Tell me again, Lucy. Tell me you want this, want me."

With a flex of his hips, he pushed forward, the broad head of his cock breaching her entrance. He sank into her with agonizing slowness, letting her body adjust to the intrusion inch by delicious inch.

Lucy's head fell back on a moan as he stretched and filled her, the sensation both foreign and exquisite after so long.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Sawyer groaned once he was fully seated inside her. He stilled, giving her time to accommodate his size. His arms trembled with the effort of holding himself above her. "So tight. So perfect."

She lifted her hips experimentally and they both gasped at the pleasure. "Move," she demanded breathlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "Please, Sawyer."

He withdrew almost fully before surging back in, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had her seeing stars. Lucy met him thrust for thrust, her nails scoring down his back as she held on for dear life. The slick slide of him inside her, stretching her, filling her so completely, was exquisite torture.

"Harder," she panted, needing more, needing everything he could give her. "I won't break."

With a growl, he snapped his hips sharply, driving into her with more force. The change in angle had him hitting that perfect spot inside her with every thrust, sending sparks of electricity zinging under her skin. She could feel the tension coiling tighter low in her belly, her inner muscles starting to flutter and clench around him.

"I can feel you getting close," Sawyer rasped, his voice rough with strain. "You're squeezing me so tight." He dropped his head to her shoulder, his teeth grazing her skin as his hand snaked down to where they were joined. He circled her clit with the rough pad of his thumb, providing the perfect counterpoint to his deep, pounding thrusts. "Come for me again. Let me feel you."

His words, his voice, the delicious drag of him inside her, it was all too much. The coil inside her snapped. Her orgasm burst through her, stealing her breath and her vision in a blinding rush of ecstasy. She cried out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, her body clenching rhythmically around his as it tried to pull him even deeper.

"Fuck, yes, just like that," he groaned, his hips moving erratically as he chased his own release. He thrust once, twice more before burying himself to the hilt, his body going rigid as his cock pulsed inside her. He emptied himself in long, hot spurts, her name falling from his lips like a prayer.

She held him close as he shuddered through the orgasm, her hands stroking soothingly over the sweat-slicked skin of his back. Slowly, he relaxed into her, his weight pressing her into the blanket and for the first time in over a year, the ever-present knot of fear and anxiety in her chest eased. Here in Sawyer's arms, she felt safe. Protected. Cherished. Like nothing and no one could touch her.

Finally, he shifted just enough to take some of his weight off her but made no move to separate their still-joined bodies. He nuzzled into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her damp skin. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you?"

Hurt her? She laughed at that. She felt like she could conquer the world just then.

"I'm more than okay. That was..." She trailed off, unable to find words that could adequately describe the depth of emotion and pleasure she'd just experienced.

Sawyer lifted his head and grinned down at her. Even disheveled and sweaty, he was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen.

"Fucking incredible," he finished for her, his voice still rough with lingering passion. "You're incredible."

He brushed a tender kiss across her mouth before carefully withdrawing from her body and rolling to the side. The loss of his warmth made her want to protest, but he gathered her close, tucking her against his chest. Lucy pillowed her head on his shoulder, her fingers idly tracing the compass tattoo over his heart while his trailed up and down her spine in a hypnotic caress that made her eyes droop.

The night air cooled her overheated skin, making her shiver. Sawyer must have felt it because he groped blindly for something to cover them with, finally coming up with his discarded shirt. He draped it over her shoulders before wrapping his arms around her and tugging her closer.

Her heart swelled until it felt like it would burst out of her chest. This man had saved her in every way a person could be saved. He made her feel whole again, like maybe the broken pieces of herself could be put back together…

Lucy drifted off to sleep, safe and sated in Sawyer's embrace. For the first time in over a year, no nightmares plagued her. She slept peacefully, her mind and body at ease.

She woke sometime later to Sawyer gently shaking her shoulder. "Lucy, sweetheart, wake up." His voice was soft but urgent.

She blinked up at him, momentarily disoriented. The first pale light of dawn was just starting to streak the sky. "What's wrong?"

He had already dressed and was holding out her clothes. "Zelda's alerting. I think she heard something."

That snapped her fully awake. She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the protest of sore muscles and the sharp stab of pain up her side from her wound, and quickly pulled on her clothes.

Zelda was standing rigidly at attention, her ears pricked forward and her nose twitching as she stared intently into the trees. A low growl rumbled in her chest.

Lucy's heart started to pound. She scanned the surrounding forest but saw nothing out of place in the gray predawn light. "What is it, girl? What do you hear?"

Zelda's growl deepened and the fur along her spine bristled. Sawyer reached out and rested a hand on the dog's head. "Easy," he murmured. "Luce, can you see anything?"

She shook her head before remembering he couldn't see the gesture. "No, nothing."

But the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

They weren't alone.