Page 52 of Duty Devoted
I carried her to the blanket we’d laid out, still inside her, still hard. Her eyes went wide as I lowered us down without breaking our connection, ending up with her straddling my lap.
“We’re not done,” I said, running my hands up her thighs, over her hips, up to cup her breasts. “Not even close.”
The new position let me see all of her, touch all of her. I watched in fascination as she began to move, finding her rhythm, taking control. Her earlier insecurities seemed forgotten as she rode me, head thrown back, completely lost in pleasure, clutching my shoulders.
“So fucking beautiful,” I said, meaning every word. “Look at you. Taking what you need. Strong and soft and absolutely perfect.”
My hands guided her hips, helping her find the angle that made her gasp. I could feel myself getting close, the sight of her above me, the feeling of her around me, threatening to push me over the edge.
“One more,” I urged, sliding a hand between us to find that delicate bundle of nerves. “Give me one more, Lauren.”
She was already sensitive from her first orgasm, and it didn’t take long before she was tensing again, my name falling from her lips like a prayer. This time, I let myself follow her over, pulling her down for a deep kiss as I came inside her.
We collapsed together, both breathing hard, bodies still joined. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we came down from the high.
“Believe me now?” I asked when I could speak again.
She laughed softly, the sound vibrating through both of us. “You made your point pretty thoroughly.”
“Good.” I kissed her temple, then her cheek, then her lips. “Because I meant every word. You’re beautiful, Lauren. Sexy. Feminine. Perfect. And if I need to spend the rest of this storm proving it to you, I will.”
She hummed contentedly, tracing lazy patterns on my chest. “The storm could last a while.”
“I’m counting on it.”
We lay there in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the wind and rain outside. Lauren’s weight on top of me felt right, natural. Like she belonged there.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“For what?”
“For seeing me.” She pressed a kiss to my chest. “Really seeing me. Not the version Patrick saw, or the version I convinced myself was true. But actually seeingme.”
I tightened my arms around her. “Thank your ex for being an idiot. Made it easier for me to show you what you’re really worth.”
She laughed again. “That’s one way to look at it.”
Eventually, we shifted to lie side by side, Lauren tucked against me with her head on my shoulder. The storm continuedto rage outside. Not long from now, we’d be running for our lives again, but right now, inside our little shelter, everything was at peace.
Chapter 17
Logan
The next morning,the world outside our makeshift shelter looked like God had taken a baseball bat to it. Trees lay scattered like matchsticks, their massive root systems exposed to the harsh morning sun. What had been dense jungle canopy now gaped with holes where the hurricane had torn through. Debris—branches, leaves, unidentifiable pieces of village structures—littered every surface.
I stepped out first, weapon drawn out of habit, scanning for threats. The air felt different. Cleaner somehow, like the storm had scrubbed away the usual jungle rot and humidity. Sunlight streamed through the newly opened canopy in cathedral shafts, illuminating the destruction in harsh detail.
“Oh God,” Lauren breathed behind me, taking in the devastation.
A massive ceiba tree that must have stood for centuries lay across what used to be a path, its trunk wider than I was tall. The storm surge had rearranged the landscape, carvingnew channels where water had rushed through. Birds called tentatively, as if testing whether it was safe to exist again.
“We need to get moving.” I checked my compass, trying to orient myself in the altered terrain. “The storm’s over. Mateo’s people will be out looking for us again.”
Lauren nodded, but I caught something in her expression—hurt, maybe?—at my abrupt tone. I’d been doing that since we’d woken up. Trying to create a little distance between us.
Twenty-four hours. That was how long we’d been pressed together in that crumbling mining structure while Hurricane Tristan tried to tear the world apart outside. Twenty-four hours of her body against mine, her breath on my neck, her hands?—
I shoved the memories down hard. What happened in that shelter needed to stay there.
