Page 38

twenty-seven

Ryan carries me, carefully bundled up in a blanket, back outside. I’m not as sore as I thought I would be. In fact, I rather enjoyed sex with my appointed .

The revelation of my new Viscount has left me in a state of shock. He told me he loves me. I’m pinned . I’m his… It’s a lot to take in. My brain hasn’t latched onto one thought, and I’m unsure how to process everything.

Did he really do all of that to get me?

It makes his trackers and cameras seem almost, hmm, endearing?

Have I lost my mind?

In the manor’s garage, the valets have parked a line of luxury sports cars and motorcycles in neat rows. Ryan sets me on my feet and grabs a full shield helmet from the wall, plopping it on my head. It smells like his hair, warm and cozy.

“It’s going to be cold as fuck, so tuck my coat around you,” he says, draping his wet tuxedo jacket over my body as I toss the comforter on the hood of a Maserati.

He points out a custom-painted Ducati and slides a leg over, then pats the back seat. Once I get on, I slip my arms around his taut waist and grip him tight as he speeds off.

With a laugh, he pops a little wheelie on the way down the long drive, and I scream, then slap his back.

The wind and rain stab my visible skin harshly as we speed through the dark night. My body shivers so violently, I’m worried I’ll make him wreck, but he maintains perfect control the entire ride.

It doesn’t take long before we pull up to a large metal warehouse near the riverbank. There’s nothing nearby, except a monolith black RV that looks like a tour bus. Light spills from the inside, but the windows are tinted so dark it’s impossible to see a thing.

Ryan parks beside it, engine growling low before he kills the ignition. Without a word, he swings off the bike, water dripping from his soaked tux like it’s no big deal. He looks half-drowned. But he’s grinning like the damn sun’s out.

He pulls my helmet off gently, fingertips grazing my chin as he does. “You alive, pink cheeks?”

I nod, and he helps me down, tucks the helmet under one arm, and then tucks me under the other—like I’m the thing he’s been trying to protect this whole time.

The door opens as we approach the entrance and a man wearing a suit and driver’s cap welcomes us in with a smile and wave of his hand. He’s the same one who was in the limo during our first date.

“Victor,” Ryan says in greeting, then leads me up a small set of stairs into a luxurious interior.

Marble floors, white leather reclining sofas and chairs surrounding the middle, divided from a full kitchen by a bar cabinet and an electric fireplace that’s already blazing.

As we enter the living room, Victor closes a curtain behind us, offering more privacy, and the engine roars to life.

We start moving as Ryan slips his wet coat off my shoulders.

“Come back here,” he says, snatching my hand and leading me toward the hall.

In the skinny gallery is a half bath with a toilet and sink only, and a washer and dryer area on the opposite side.

Then, through a sliding paneled door, lies a bedroom bigger than I would think possible for a bus.

It holds a king-size bed outfitted with thick, cozy blankets and pillows.

On the far wall is another door leading into a full bathroom, complete with a walk-in shower that contains a two-seater bench.

With its system of chrome nozzles and sprayers, it looks complex.

“What is this?”

“Steam shower. Get in and let’s get warm.”

It doesn’t take me a second thought to peel off my wet dress and jump in, hoping it heats quickly. Ryan strips and steps in with me, then adjusts the water and sprayers until the entire room fills with heated clouds of goodness.

“Turn around and let me wash your hair.”

My back presses to his front, and he douses my locks with a handheld showerhead. Leaning over me, he grabs a bottle of my shampoo. “Is that?—”

“Yeah. I bought the same stuff you use. Same everything.” He nods toward the sink area just outside the foggy glass door.

Again, I’m stunned into silence, especially when the pads of his fingers work my scalp with the utmost care, massaging the suds in deep, then rinsing them with a steady spray of steamy water.

Every flex of his muscles as he does makes my belly flip, tingles erupting all over my skin, even though I’m overheating.

With delicate movements, he lifts my arms and washes my body with my brand of cleanser.

His large hands use smooth kneading motions until I fall into a trace.

In the small space, he spins me to face him, his cock slotting between my thighs.

When he gets to my armpits, a giggle bubbles past my lips.

He squats to lift each of my legs while I balance my palms on his firm shoulders.

Something changes as he kneels in front of me.

The clouds of billowy steam rising around us give me some clarity.

My heart softens as I watch him and let my fingers drag through his hair slowly, gathering up the black, wet strands.

The deep bass of his growl makes my insides heat as much as my skin, and I reach over his head and grab his shampoo, then work it in just as he did mine.

He stays like that, crouching before me, and I draw a sharp breath when his tongue delves out to lick my pussy.

I almost can’t concentrate when he does it again, especially when he throws one of my thighs over his back and parts me with a finger.

As I rinse his hair, his crystal-clear eyes scan my face and he breaks the suction on my clit to ask, “You too sore?”

I can only shake my head in response.

“Good.” Teeth tug on my sensitive tissue as he continues to hold my gaze.

Whimpering a moan, I say, “You know, when you’re like this, I think I could forgive anything.”

I feel his smile on my core, then rub myself against his chin, his nose, his mouth, riding his face and using him where I need him most. His torso shakes gently as he strokes himself. Grunts from his pleasure float over my skin.

“Y-you’re so good at this,” I say breathlessly, leaning back on the wall.

As tingles rise to impossible levels, scattering throughout my entire body, I surge with the rush of euphoria.

Eyes rolling back, hands splaying out on the glass, my scream echoes off the tiles.

With a hungry groan, Ryan stands abruptly and shoves his thick cock inside of me as I’m still clenching from bliss.

“Fuck, yes!” He explodes right along with me, gathering me up in his arms until my legs encircle his waist. The fullness of him stretches me to an uncomfortable ache, but soothing comfort replaces it every time my inner muscles pulse in rhythmic patterns.

He presses his lips against mine and quietly humps me with tiny movements of his hips. I’m sore, but in a good way. A way I never knew about before tonight.

Fumbling behind me, he shuts off the water and carries me to the sink, plopping me on the edge. “Let me get a towel.”

Just as delicately as he washed me, he’s even more gentle drying me, but as he does, he shakes his head rapidly, spraying me and the mirror.

I hold up my hands to stop the incoming barrage, but it goes through the spread of my fingers.

We both laugh, and I shove him back from me, slip off the counter, and grab the soft terry cloth.

“I don’t have clothes here,” I say, wandering into the bedroom.

He finishes drying himself and follows me. “Sure you do.” Opening a drawer in the dresser reveals it’s stocked with fancy lingerie, and practical ones, too. I gasp, checking out the rest of it all. It’s my stuff, but a new copy.

“Is this why you spied on me? To fill our place with similar things?”

“I wasn’t spying . I was learning. There’s a difference.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Spying implies nefarious means. That the information gained is to harm the other or use it in some threatening manner.”

As I slide on a new pair of panties and a tank top for sleep, I ask, “So then, what’s the other?”

He steps into black boxer briefs and taps the end of my nose before flopping onto the bed. “I just wanted to learn everything about my girl. Study her. Know what she likes and doesn’t. Understand how I could be the best man for the job.”

I join him on the soft mattress, sliding under the silky sheets and placing my hands underneath my cheeks as I stare at him from my pillow. He tucks his arms behind his head and glances at me with a smirk.

“What job?” I ask.

“The job of being your husband, your appointed. Most importantly, your partner-in-crime.”

Everything in me tilts at his words, at the sincerity in them. Maybe I’ve lost it, but I find what he did sweet , almost.

“What crimes are those, Mr. Cardell?”

He turns to his side so we face each other. His finger finds a button over our heads to turn off the light. Streetlamps bleed through the blinds in waves, lighting up his handsome face randomly. “Whatever we need to do. We make a great pair.”

Blinking, I consider my future with him. I guess it’s not so bad to be matched to Ryan Cardell. Despite how much he drives me crazy, I think he may be onto something, except one reservation I have…

“I don’t like to be owned . And I enjoy my independence. You know, alone .”

“We can be alone together.”

He states it as a fact. Like he’s figured this out about me and understands it better than I can. That whatever solution is in his brain is the way out.

I can’t form words because I think, deep down, I know. It’s not about me being his appointed or about becoming his wife.

Ryan Cardell is perfect for me .

He scoops me in his arms and flips me over so we spoon our bodies together.

“I hate what they have set for my future, Pen, but I can do it if you’re by my side. You’re what makes my life worth living now.”

Emotion coats my face until I slyly take my thumb and pick off a tear that falls onto my cheek. My throat closes up as I try to keep myself from crying. Maybe it’s just hormones, but I have a feeling this formidable force that holds me firmly in his arms is a genuine romantic.

“Besides, I had to keep an eye on things when your roommate disappeared. And I think I understand more about what could be happening. Still need to do some research, but once I figure it out, they’re dead. No one messes with my girl.”

So many questions bounce around in my head, but exhaustion threatens to overtake my mind. A mumbled question parts my lips. “Where are you taking me?”

“We’re going to our place.”

“I thought this was it.”

“Well, this is one of them. But we got more.”

I don’t even have time to argue or question it. Safe in the comfort of his arms, I fall deeply asleep.