Page 30 of Stripe for the Picking (Paranormal Dating Agency #92)
TWENTY-FIVE
WREN
W ren felt the plastic zip ties bite into her wrists one final time before Rylan's careful fingers freed her hands. The relief was immediate and overwhelming—not just the physical freedom, but the knowledge that her mate had found her, had saved her, and had killed for her.
"There," Rylan said softly as the restraints fell away. "You're free now."
The moment her hands were liberated, she threw her arms around his naked torso and relished the solid warmth of his chest against her cheek and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, proving that this nightmare was finally over.
"Thank you," she whispered, then pulled back to capture his lips in a fierce kiss that tasted of gratitude and desperate love. When they broke apart, she pressed her forehead to his. "For a moment there, I thought I might actually die. That today might be my last day."
His blue eyes blazed with protective fury. "Never. I will always find you and always protect you."
"I know." The truth of it settled deep in her bones.
"I had faith you would come, but when that rifle was pressed against my temple.
.." She shuddered, remembering Arvox's cold eyes and cruel smile.
"I kept thinking about our future, about the proposal, about the family we talked about. I wasn't ready to lose all of that."
"You'll never lose me." He cupped her delicate face in his hands. "Arvox's reign of terror is over. He can never hurt you or Nova Aurora again."
Wren glanced at the wolf shifter's lifeless form, feeling no sympathy whatsoever. "Good. He got exactly what he deserved."
Rylan dressed quickly in the borrowed tactical gear while Wren brushed debris from her clothes. After he finished putting on his boots, he reached for her hand, and they left the abandoned warehouse behind.
Outside in the frosty mountain air, he helped her into Arvox's black SUV and then climbed into the driver's seat.
Thankfully, the SUV started on the first try, and they drove through the Ice Mountains in comfortable silence, her hand resting on his thigh as the familiar landscape of Nexus came into view.
When they finally arrived at Defense Nexus, it looked like a war zone.
Shattered glass glittered on the pavement, scorch marks decorated the walls, and the acrid smell of smoke hung heavy in the air.
Bodies of Arvox's operatives were scattered throughout the main entrance, but thankfully no familiar faces among the casualties.
General Kael stood near the entrance station with the Council leader, both men's expressions grim as they surveyed the destruction. They looked up as Wren and Rylan approached, relief flooding Kael's weathered features.
"Thank the twin suns you're both safe." The Council leader's voice carried genuine concern. "What happened?"
"Arvox kidnapped Wren and held her hostage in an abandoned warehouse in the Ice Mountains," Rylan replied, his arm sliding protectively around her waist. "I tracked them down and... the situation was resolved permanently."
Wren felt a flutter of pride at his understated description of single-handedly killing three men to save her life.
"I'm deeply sorry this happened," the Council leader said, his gaze finding hers. "If I had taken your evidence more seriously yesterday, none of this violence would have occurred."
"You're damn right it wouldn't have," Rylan's voice carried an edge of controlled anger. "I hope this serves as a lesson about acting with more urgency when citizens' lives are at stake."
The Council leader nodded solemnly. "You have my word that protocols will be reviewed and improved." His expression brightened slightly. "There is some good news, however. You've won the Protocol Trials, Commander."
Wren blinked in surprise. "How is that possible? We didn't finish the final round."
"I decided to award real-life points for the extraordinary bravery displayed today," the Council leader explained.
"You and the other competitors saved lives, protected the innocent, and demonstrated the exact qualities the Trials are designed to test. Your actions today pushed you over the finish line. "
A surge of joy shot through their mate bond, and Wren couldn't help but grin. After everything they'd endured, Rylan had still achieved his goal.
"Congratulations," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
"We did it together," he murmured back, his eyes warm with love and victory.
"I look forward to celebrating at tonight's formal dinner," the Council leader said before departing with a respectful nod.
General Kael stepped forward, clasping Rylan's shoulder with paternal pride. "You've become the man and leader I always knew you could be. Going after her took real courage."
"She's my mate," Rylan replied simply. "There was never a choice."
Kael's knowing smile said he understood completely. "Enjoy your victory, both of you. You've earned it."
As the General walked away, Rylan turned to her with that devastatingly gorgeous smile that always made her knees weak. The predatory gleam in his blue eyes promised delicious things.
"Let's go home and do our own celebrating," he said, his voice dropping to that low rumble that sent heat to her core.
Despite the trauma of the day, despite everything they'd survived, desire flared hot and immediate in her body. She needed to feel alive, needed to reconnect with her mate, and needed to celebrate their victory in the most primal way possible.
"I like the way you think, Commander."
Wren barely registered the walk back to their apartment, her body still thrumming with adrenaline from the day's events.
But the moment the door shut behind them, Rylan's hands were on her—not with the desperate urgency she expected, but with a slow, deliberate possessiveness that made her breath hitch.
"Let's take a bath first," he murmured against her temple, his lips brushing her skin as he guided her toward the bathroom. "You need to unwind."
She arched her brow. "Unwinding isn't exactly what I had in mind."
He chuckled softly. "Oh, we'll get there."
The bathroom was sleek and modern, all warm lighting and polished stone.
Rylan moved with that effortless efficiency she adored, touching a button on the wall until steam curled in the air and pouring in fragrant oils that made the water froth with bubbles.
The scent—something rich and woodsy, like amber and spice—wrapped around her, already easing the tension from her shoulders.
She watched as he straightened, his borrowed tactical gear clinging to every hard line of his body. The sight of him like this —commanding, lethal, and entirely focused on her—sent heat pooling right to her core.
"Let me," he said as he reached for the hem of her blouse.
She gasped as his fingers skimmed her waist, his touch deliberate and savoring.
The fabric soon slid away, then his hands were at the clasp of her bra, unhooking it with a precision that made her lips part.
The lace fell, and his gaze darkened as he took her in, his thumbs brushing over her nipples in a slow, teasing circle.
She reached for his belt, her fingers working the buckle with less finesse but no less determination. "You're overdressed."
He let out a rough laugh as she shoved the borrowed pants down his hips, his cock already hard and straining against his boxers. She palmed him through the fabric, delighting in the way his breath stuttered.
"Someone's impatient," he accused, but there was no heat in it—only hunger.
"You have no idea."
The rest of their clothes landed in a haphazard pile, and then he was stepping into the bath, the water sloshing as he settled back. He held out a hand, his eyes locked on hers. "Come here."
She didn't hesitate. Sinking into the water between his legs, she sighed as his chest pressed against her back, his arms wrapping around her.
But soon, his hands were everywhere—soothing at first, kneading the tension from her shoulders, skimming down her ribs, and tracing the curve of her waist. But then his touch grew heavier and more possessive, his fingers dipping between her thighs with a knowing pressure that made her moan.
"You're too tense," he murmured, his lips at her ear. "Let me fix that."
She arched into his touch, her head falling back against his shoulder as his fingers worked her with slow, deliberate strokes. Every brush of his fingertips sent sparks through her, her body tightening in anticipation.
"Rylan." His name came out as a plea.
His free hand cupped her breast, his thumb circling her nipple in time with the rhythm of his fingers below.
She bit her lip, her hips rocking against his hand as pleasure coiled tighter and sharper.
His touch was relentless, his control absolute—until she shattered with a cry, her body trembling as waves of sensation crashed over her.
Before she could catch her breath, she turned in the water, straddling him in one fluid motion. His hands gripped her hips, his gaze burning into hers.
"I need you," she demanded, guiding him to her entrance.
He didn't argue.
She sank onto him with a loud moan, her body stretching to take him, every inch a perfect, aching fit. His groan vibrated through her as she began to move, her thighs flexing as she rode him, the water sloshing around them.
His grip tightened, his hips meeting hers with deep, driving thrusts that stole her breath. The pleasure was sharper now, more intense, the mate bond amplifying every sensation until she could barely think.
"Look at me," he growled softly.
She did—and the raw possession in his eyes sent another wave of heat through her. His rhythm faltered, his control slipping as his release tore through him, his body shuddering beneath hers. She followed him over the edge, her cry muffled against his neck as pleasure ripped through her.
For a long moment, they stayed like that—breathless and tangled, his arms locked around her as if he'd never let go.