Page 24

Claire

D inner was heaven, and by the time I finished, I was certain roasted turkey was my new favourite food.

My mother would’ve been ashamed of me. I abandoned all table manners and ate like a desperate, starving vagrant…

probably because I was. I sunk my teeth into a drumstick and moaned at the fatty, smoky flavour on my tongue.

“You and that turkey need a room, Claire?” Asha asked wryly, and I laughed without thinking. She was teasing me the way she used to.

“Never thought eating could feel this good,” I answered with a shrug before ripping off another chunk.

John gave my knee an affectionate squeeze. When I finished the drumstick, he pushed more on me, and by the end of the meal, my stomach was full for the first time in a while.

We retired to the tiny back bedroom of the cabin, where John lit another fire in the small fireplace.

I laid out our sleeping bags in front of it for warmth.

Even though the wood floor was hard and battered, it was better than sleeping on the cold ground.

Better still, there was a door we could close, and some semblance of privacy—something I dearly missed.

“You want a bath?” John asked, stoking the flames with an old, rusty poker that’d been left by the fireplace. “Might be the last time for a while.”

“Uh, obviously,” I said incredulously, and he laughed. “I feel disgusting.”

“That makes two of us, then.”

He refilled the cooking pot with snow and heated it over the fire until steam rose in hot, irresistible tendrils.

It wouldn’t be a proper bath—there was no way to do that here—but a nice sponge bath with hot water was still better than nothing, especially with how much traveling we were doing.

It may also be our last thorough wash for some time, because with how cold it was, we wouldn’t be able to do more than a quick wipe down under our clothes without risking hypothermia.

I fetched washcloths from our bags and handed one to John before soaking mine in the hot water.

I peeled off my clothes, staying near the fireside to keep warm.

John did the same, taking off his jacket and long-sleeved shirt to reveal his lean, muscular body.

A little shiver went through him at the cold air, but he sighed with pleasure as he swept the hot cloth over his torso.

I couldn’t help but stare, my own washcloth forgotten in my hand.

Given the lack of privacy and the cold, it’d been weeks since I’d seen him fully naked, and just as long since we’d properly made love.

Mostly, we had quick, stolen moments of passion here and there, with little time to savour it.

The rest of the time, we were both so exhausted from travel that when neither of us were on watch at night, we fell asleep immediately.

My eyes followed the hard, beautiful lines of his body, down to the small trail of hair that led to his groin. The flickering firelight gave his skin an alluring luminosity, and I felt overwhelmed by the need to touch him. He’d unbuttoned his pants before he noticed the intensity of my gaze.

He grinned. “See something you like over there?”

I swallowed hard. “No. I was just washing and thinking about…wholesome things. Cute animals. Grandmothers. A baby’s laughter. ”

John’s bark of a laugh told me exactly what he thought about that. He shed his pants and boxers, making it even harder not to stare as I took in his naked form. A tremor that had nothing to do with the cold went through me, and heat suddenly pulsed between my thighs.

“You seem to be having trouble focusing,” John said wryly, and I made a face at him before we finished scrubbing ourselves down.

When we were both done, John moved closer and took the washcloth from my hand. He skimmed my neck with it, spreading wet warmth over my body as the water trickled down my bare breasts. I sighed as he moved down, bathing me with laser-like focus, raising goosebumps on every inch of my flesh.

“Let your hair down,” he murmured as he circled my nipple with the washcloth. His gaze was soft, and the request felt deeply intimate.

I unwound my braid, letting loose waves fall over my shoulders and down my back. John watched me with a new intensity, his eyes moving over the curves of my body, the locks of my hair. He circled me, not unlike a predator surveying prey, gazing at my nakedness in the glow of the firelight.

After a moment of exquisite tension, I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached over and put my clammy hand on his bare chest. He inhaled sharply at my touch and gave me a look that could only be described as wolfish before covering my hand with his.

“I want—”

John cut me off with a sloppy, hungry kiss that lasted only a second before he pulled back again.

“Kneel.” His voice was rough, suddenly edged with need.

It was not a request, and deep, urgent arousal coiled deep in my abdomen as I lowered myself to my knees in front of the fireplace. I wanted to take him in my mouth like this, to give him pleasure, but the floorboards creaked as he knelt directly behind me.

John kissed along the crook of my neck, twisting a hand in my hair to gently pull my head back.

“I want you,” I said, almost a whine. “It’s been too long.”

He sighed in a helpless way that told me he agreed. Distantly, I heard Asha talking in the main room, followed by Kimmy’s giggles. John nibbled at my neck, making me moan loudly, and the giggles abruptly cut off in response .

“Naughty girl,” John whispered in my ear, and I shuddered. “Wouldn’t want to get caught, would we?”

“No,” I breathed, even as I felt wetness blooming between my thighs.

“Wouldn’t want them to know the way you moan my name when you’re close, hmm?”

“You’d have to get me close first for that to happen,” I said dryly, pretending to be impassive. “And I’m nowhere near that point.”

Meanwhile, my whole body tingled with his nearness, the way his body bracketed mine…and the way I could feel him, hard against the small of my back.

“That right, princess?” he taunted, his hand following the curve of my hip towards my centre. “So, if I touch you now, you won’t be wet?”

“Dry as a bone,” I replied, but the quiver in my voice betrayed me.

John suddenly grabbed my chin in his hand and pulled my head back against his shoulder, and I gasped. His hand came to rest on my throat—no pressure, no discomfort. Just holding. Possessing.

“Shame about the noise it’d make,” John murmured, his teeth grazing the edge of my ear. “Because otherwise, I’d spank that beautiful, bratty ass of yours for being so mouthy. Put you over my knee, and not stop until you were squirming, begging me for release.”

A pulse of arousal went through my clit at that image.

I wanted him to do it. Wanted him to hold me down and spank me until my backside was red and hot to the touch.

Wanted him to get off on it, to love giving it to me as much as I craved it from him.

There was something intoxicating about being under a lion’s paw and knowing that he would never use his strength to crush you.

“And would you give it?” I whispered, very aware of his warm breath on the back of my neck.

“If you were a very good girl,” John answered, his tone deliciously low and dangerous. He used his knee to force my legs farther apart. “Taking my cock and my come like you were told.”

“And if I wasn’t?”

“Then I’d fuck you till I finished and leave you aching,” he said silkily. “You’d go through the rest of the day wanting me, aching to come, but I wouldn’t let you. Not until you begged me for relief. ”

His pressed his hard length against my entrance. I heard the wet sound it made and moaned too loudly again. His soft, dark chuckle tickled my ear.

“Quiet down,” he whispered. “Don’t get us in trouble. And keep your hands on the mantel while I fuck you, hmm? If you do as you’re told, maybe I’ll let you come.”

I shuddered as he slipped between my thighs and pushed inside me. I moaned, quieter this time, but John covered my mouth with his free hand—his other one was still on my throat.

He gave me a forceful thrust, and I made a tiny, muffled squeak. My back was pressed to his chest, and I was as helpless as a newborn kitten in his arms. Depraved as it probably was, I loved being at his mercy and hearing all his dirtiest thoughts about me. He desired me like no one else ever had.

“Shh,” John chided again, deeply amused. “I’m starting to think you want everyone to know the filthy sounds you make when I’m inside you. When I’m driving you wild with my touch.”

I inhaled sharply as his hand moved from my throat to my breast. He pinched my nipple between his fingertips, and I sighed, tightening around him.

He gave a low growl and pumped into me mercilessly, his control gone.

The pleasure built inside me with every thrust, slow-burning and bright, and I moaned again.

A sudden, unexpected slap landed directly on my clit, stinging deliciously, and I squealed into the palm of John’s hand.

“I told you to be quiet,” he said, sounding strained as he slid in and out of me. “But you just can’t help yourself, can you, sweetheart?”

It wasn’t nearly as hard as he’d spanked my backside in the past, and the soft flesh muffled sound from the impact. The sting had already faded, leaving my clit raw and aching with the pleasure of his touch, however brief.

My knuckles were white around the mantel as he drove into me again. When I moaned, he rewarded me with another spank on my clit. Over and over, I gasped, squeaked, moaned more, and he gave me what I craved while taking me as he pleased.

“Ah, my Claire,” John growled in my ear. “I want to come so deep in your cunt. I want you to take all of me, every drop, and then I want to feel you come all over my cock. Is that what you want? ”

I nodded frantically against his hand, and his hips sped up. His teeth sunk into my shoulder, and he gave a muffled groan against me as he came hard, filling me with sharp surges of pleasure.

Before he’d even had time to recover, his fingers were on my clit, stroking me urgently. He rocked his hips in rhythm, giving me the stimulation I needed inside me. He didn’t move his hand from my mouth; on the contrary, he clamped it more firmly in place.

He worked me expertly, swirling his fingers around my clit and whispering filthy sweet nothings in my ear.

He told me how good I felt around him; how sexy I looked, naked in the firelight; and how much he loved hearing me moan into his hand.

He called me his good, sweet girl, and told me how much he got off on spanking me like I needed him to.

I came like a whirlwind—suddenly and all at once. John was wise to cover my mouth, because I gave a hoarse cry as pleasure flooded my body, spreading from my aching clit outward. I kept coming until I was shaky, unsteady, and exhausted, my knees wobbling.

John lowered his hand from my mouth and turned my head to kiss me before withdrawing. I collapsed on top of his sleeping bag, breathing heavy, my eyes closed. I felt like my soul had left my body.

I heard him chuckle softly, then felt a wet, warm washcloth between my legs, wiping away the mess there.

I watched him through slitted lids as he cleaned himself and then washed the cloth again in the leftover water.

He lay it flat to dry in front of the fire, then laid down beside me and pulled me against him.

I rested my head against his chest and snuggled him happily.

The air was still frigid, but between the nearby fire and John’s ever-warm bulk, I was toasty.

No matter what was in his past or our future, I’d never been so safe and loved in my whole life. John was a gift that I’d neither asked for nor deserved at the time he came into my world, but I cherished him…no matter what Asha, or anyone else from my old life, might think.

Before sleep could claim me, I looked up at John again. His expression was sweet and satisfied, a faint smile touching his lips as he looked at me. I reached out and cupped his cheek, and he sighed and shut his eyes, leaning into my touch.

I stroked him from forehead to chin, smoothing away stress and worry lines.

He carried so much on his shoulders all the time, and he always had—the story he’d told me about Allie had only confirmed it.

He felt responsible for his people, and that now included me.

But I wanted to take care of him, too, to be worthy of being the one person he felt truly vulnerable with.

“I love all of you, you know,” I murmured. “Don’t doubt that I could love you even on your darkest day. I can’t stop loving you any more than I can stop myself from breathing, and with my last breath, I’d tell you so.”

John put a hand under my chin and kissed me deeply, thoroughly, for a long moment before pulling back. His eyes shone with emotion in the low light, and he buried his face in my hair.

“You are everything,” he whispered roughly, then cleared his throat. “Let’s get some rest, sweetheart. Another long day tomorrow.”

Eventually, he shifted underneath me, and I allowed him to help me into my sleeping bag. He tucked me in, kissed my forehead, and told me he loved me. Then he crawled into his sleeping bag beside me, draping an arm over my hip.

Just as I was on the edge of sleep, there was a sound from the main room of the cabin. I frowned, listening. It sounded like something moving. And then a sigh. A gasp. A moan.

God, a moan? I flushed from head to toe.

“Christ,” John muttered as another, louder moan reached us. “Really, Kimmy? Couldn’t even try to keep it down?”

I did my best to muffle my helpless giggles against my sleeping bag.

“You can hardly lecture her,” I said, amused. “We just did the same.”

“That’s different,” he replied, though he didn’t elaborate on how, exactly.

“Don’t be such a grump,” I chided playfully. “She wanted someone, and she’s finally happy… very happy, from the sounds of it.”

“Gross. That’s my sister.”

“Your sister, and a grown woman. With needs.”

He shot me a look of utter disgust that only made me giggle more.

“Cheer up, Wastelander,” I said, snuggling him. “Sooner or later, if Asha does her job, she’ll finish.”

“Oh my God, Claire, stop.”

His cheeks had turned bright red. I wasn’t used to seeing John mortified—he was usually so unflappable—and it was so unexpected and adorable that I buried my face in his chest and silently laughed until tears sprung to my eyes.