Page 6 of Martyr (Sterling Falls Rogues #3)

“I think you actually can hear me,” I whisper in the dark.

Lyssa hasn’t squeezed my hand again, and I had to leave before the nightly bed check. But once the coast was clear, it was easy to sneak out and back down here.

I go to the window. The moon is bright, the snow-laden trees casting shadows in the yard. In the distance, the water reflects the light, too.

“Maybe some fresh air will wake you up?”

There’s only a portion of the window that slides, so I flick the latch and shove it open the designated six inches. It squeals, metal on metal, and I wince. Pause.

I glance back, just in case Lyssa flinched at the noise, but she’s totally still.

Bummer.

Instead of returning to join her, I drag the chair closer to the window and prop my elbow up on the narrow sill. The cold air that seeps in is welcome, even though the chill never quite left me.

Stupid Saint.

“ Fuck .”

I straighten and slowly glance over my shoulder. The voice was distinctly male, and it came from outside. I stay perfectly still, unconcerned about being seen—the room is dark, with only the moonlight illuminating it—and wait.

Finally, a shadow seems to peel away from the tree line.

I tilt my head, the stride oddly familiar.

“How the hell am I supposed to find her?” His voice drifts toward me, clear and crisp even though it’s low.

My heart skips.

I shove away from the window and bolt out of Lyssa’s room without a word. I keep my footsteps as light as I can, but there’s no stopping me from running . I skid around the corner and barely stop myself from slamming into the exit doors. The last thing I need is to get caught outside of my room.

My caution ends at making sure the door eases shut behind me, then I’m sprinting again. I round the corner and crash into a hard body. Hands grasp at my shoulders, easing me back, and I look up.

Reese Avery .

I blink, and he goes blurry. Tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks, and he immediately drags me into his chest. His arms band around my back.

“Oh God,” I whimper. “You’re really here?”

“Fuck, Tem, I thought it would be a whole hell of a lot harder to find you.” His hold on me tightens.

His voice rasps in my ears, deliciously real. I inhale, my nose buried in his coat. His scent makes my heart ache.

“You okay?” His lips press to the top of my head.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m…” My throat closes. Okay, so I’m not entirely fine .

He guides my face up and brushes at the tears on my cheeks. His gaze takes in everything I’m not saying, and there isn’t an ounce of pity in his expression. He has a bit of scruff on his cheeks. And circles under his eyes. His hair is hidden by a knit cap, but bits of it poke out around the edges.

It got longer.

“Is there somewhere we can go to get out of this cold?” he asks.

Reese isn’t going to magically spirit me off the island, so I suppose suggesting the boat he came in on is out of the question. I step back slowly, but before I can retreat out of reach, he snags my hand in his.

An unexpected blush blooms across my cheeks, and another feeling shoots straight between my legs.

Oh .

“Answer me this,” he says suddenly. “When you initiated… were you high?”

His grip on my fingers tightens, like he can read my mind.

“Please don’t leave, Tem. I just?—”

“I was.” I shake my head. “God, I’m sorry I did that to you.”

I didn’t think about how it affected Reese. Or Kade, even. My actions didn’t directly harm them, but it doesn’t mean there’s no hurt. My choices with them, around them, are a reflection of my state of mind.

Which was impaired.

“Can you forgive me?”

“Done.”

I glance around, then put my hand to his chest. I guide him backward, into the trees, until he bumps into a thick trunk. I meet his gaze. “I’m not high now.”

“No,” he agrees.

“Never been more sober.”

He doesn’t stop me from slipping down to my knees, but his jaw works. His gaze stays glued to my face. I shove his jacket up, undo the button of his pants, and free his stiffening cock. It sways, pointing straight at me.

My mouth waters. I’m attracted to Reese. Obviously . I like his cock. But there’s also an intimacy in being faced with it again that only comes from practice.

And, yeah, I know that the practice was in the worst spot imaginable, but he was a safe haven. He came to be one anyway.

I lean forward, opening my mouth and taking him into it. He lets out a faint groan. I put my hand on his stomach and push him back against the tree trunk. Once more of his weight is supported, I begin.

My mind swirls through lust, burning at the thought of him coming for me. In both senses. He came here—and he’s going to come in my mouth.

I take him deeper, working his length with my tongue. I know what used to make him explode, what moves used to make his legs quake and his hips jerk. He hits the back of my throat, and I barely suppress my gag.

Maybe I’m out of practice.

My cheeks hollow as I bob up and inhale through my nose. His fingers tangle in my hair. The strands slip through his grip, and his nails scratch at my scalp.

I hum.

“Ah, fuck,” he groans. “Don’t do that, I’ll?—”

Come too soon?

I suppress a smile for when I don’t have a dick in my mouth. The snow crunches beneath my knees. I take him back in deeper, pressing my limits. Choking myself on him.

He fists more hair, pulling me back slightly. Then, pushing down.

My body sings when he takes control. The pulse of desire for him between my legs kicks up, but I force my hands to stay away. I want to feel it. To live in it for a while. The tingle of arousal, the rush under my skin.

I bob and suck, flick my tongue at the spot just under his tip that never failed to make him writhe. His hips buck, but he never yanks the control away from me. His hand on my head is a guide for what he wants—not a demand.

Not an order.

He lets me play with him, work him higher, until every move has his hips rolling. He goes deeper, and I let him.

“I’m gonna come,” he rasps. He tugs at my hair, as if to pull me off him.

I grab his ass and ignore the faint burn in my scalp. He’s not yanking , not being cruel. But I don’t let him move off me. I continue working him until his dick pulses. He moans my name and comes on my tongue.

I swallow it down, then slowly pull back.

That was, in a way, just what I needed.

And also, a whole lot less than what else I want right now.

I sit on my heels, my body buzzing. The urge to get myself off climbs but eventually passes. I exhale.

Reese slowly puts himself away, then helps me to my feet. His expression is dazed.

We just did that .

And, honestly, I have no regrets.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and it dawns on me how cold it is out here. Which reminds me of my recent discovery… and how Reese is probably the perfect person to tell.

I tip my head to the side. “So, um, I’ve got to tell you something.”