Page 51 of Dustwalker

She walked away, muttering something too quietly for him to understand her words.

After he heard her bedroom door open and close, Ronin remainedat the table and lost himself in her dance, replaying it repeatedly, as night trekked irreversibly toward the dawn.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lara lay in bed, staring at the night sky with the orange glow of the streetlights streaming in through the window. It was the same sky she’d seen for her whole life, but it was somehow unfamiliar from here.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay like that before her eyes drifted shut.

A sound pulled her from sleep.

Mind clouded, she lifted her head and blinked the blurriness from her eyes. The door opened slowly. The hallway beyond was dark, but the light from the window settled on Ronin, whose broad-shouldered frame filled the doorway.

Pushing herself up onto her elbows, Lara frowned. “Ronin?”

He wore only his fatigue pants, which hung low and loose around his hips. His body was perfect, his sculpted muscles accentuated by the soft light and deep shadows. Unable to stop herself, she swept her eyes over him, drinking in his squared jaw, wide chest, chiseled abs, and the defined lines tapering from his hips to his pelvis.

Her body responded, a deep, hot ache forming low in her belly. She swallowed hard and squeezed handfuls of the blanket.

Ronin didn’t move.

She forced her gaze back up to his. “Is…something wrong?”

“No.” He stepped toward her, only stopping when he stood beside the bed, and gazed down at her with eyes that were impossibly green despite the darkness.

He pulled the blanket off Lara, letting the fabric trail over her. Though she had plenty of time to do so, she didn’t grab for it. She simply let him take it, let him bare her little by little, too enthralled by the sensation, by the thrill spreading through her. When the last of the blanket fell away, Ronin dropped it to the floor.

Those glowing green eyes trekked lower, along the length of her body, brightening as they stopped. His intense focus triggered a rush of unexpected desire low in her belly.

Wondering what had captivated him, Lara looked down. Her breath hitched. The shirt she’d worn to bed had ridden up to her waist, leaving her pelvis exposed. She reached down to cover herself, but Ronin took hold of her wrists before she could. The bare metal of his hands was warm against her skin.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her eyes widening as he climbed onto the bed and settled between her thighs, looming over her. The bed groaned under his weight.

He guided her back down, pinning her wrists over her head with one hand. Cool air whispered over her sex, contrasting the heat of her body. Moisture gathered at her core.

Ronin slipped a metal hand under her shirt and pressed his palm to her stomach. It was solid and smooth. Slowly, he slid it up. Her skin quivered beneath his touch. When his hand cupped her breast, she arched into it, nipple beading against his palm with the sensation.

“Ronin,” she rasped, breath shallow.

Though his expression was blank, his vibrant eyes dipped to her mouth. He released her wrists and lowered his head, pressing his chest to hers. Their mouths connected.

Lara closed her eyes and gave herself over to him. His lips were soft, molding to hers, but there was firmness beneath them as he kissed her with a hungry ferocity that left her shaking. They moved away, trailing over her jaw, her chin, her neck.

Releasing her breast, he slid his hand between her thighs, caressing her pussy. She tilted her head back and moaned. With gentle strokes, he spread her slick over her folds, and when his firm metal finger circled her clit, pleasure burst through her.

Drawing back, he placed a hand on each of her knees and spread her legs wide. She looked up at him. His skin was aglow, his features impassive except for those eyes…

Then she felt the head of his cock against her entrance. Keeping his gaze locked with Lara’s, he pulled back and thrust into her.

Lara awoke with a gasp, jolting upright. Breath ragged, she swept her gaze over the room.

Ronin wasn’t there.

The door was closed, and the gap beneath it was dark. Gentle light from the street poured in through the window, illuminating the bed, where the blanket had been bunched near her feet. Her bare legs were spread with her knees up, and the air was cold against her exposed pussy, which was wet enough to dampen the sheets.

“Oh my God.” She squeezed her thighs together against the hollow, throbbing ache in her core. Her breasts were heavy, her nipples sensitive as they brushed against the fabric of her shirt, and there was perspiration coating her warm skin. She swept hair out of her face.

“No.” Lara leapt out of bed, tugging the hem of the shirt down. “Oh no, no, no.”