Fighting Redemption

“Nothing?”

 

“Nothing…” he slammed in again “…has ever felt more beautiful than you do right now.”

 

Christ. He didn’t just love her, he fucking adored her. He’d give his life for her if he had to.

 

He thrust hard into her, over and over, the pleasure intense and out of control. Shuddering, she cried his name, clenching around him, and he let go with a wild groan. Gritting his teeth, he flooded her body, pumping himself into her until there was nothing left.

 

Hovering above her, Ryan ducked his head and kissed her, tugging her lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it. The taste of Fin was like the purest Heaven and the hottest Hell.

 

Taking a deep, shaky breath, he started pulling out and she winced.

 

“You okay?”

 

Fuck. Tears were pooling in her eyes. They spilled over, rolling down the sides of her face and into her hair.

 

And there it was—the guilt—swallowing him until he was drowning in it.

 

“Baby, please don’t cry anymore.” He looked down as he slid out of her. “Oh fuck,” he breathed.

 

You dumb, stupid fuck.

 

“What?”

 

He looked at her. “I didn’t use a condom.”

 

 

 

 

 

Ryan hovered above her, his hands pressed into the mattress over her shoulders. His dark eyes were wide with panic when just moments ago they’d been consumed with a fire so intense she’d felt almost branded.

 

“Fin? I’m sorry.” Guilt swept across his face. “I didn’t mean t-to—”

 

Fin shoved him off and rolled over, curling herself into a little ball. Her hands shook as she clutched them to her chest, her shame palpable. What had she done to him?

 

She’d read the letter from Jake and suddenly the world had turned black, as though his words had blocked out the sun. Anger for the both of them leaving stabbed at her like a sharp blade, but it felt good—the wild rage giving her life. When Ryan grabbed her, the spark flickered out and as she slid down the wall, all the pain she’d buried deep inside had bled out over both of them.

 

Then she’d done the unthinkable and begged Ryan to take it away. And he had. He’d widened his stance, tattooed muscles bulging as he folded his arms, and ordered her to take off her clothes. His eyes had been bleak, his jaw tight, as though already forgiving her for what she was doing to them.

 

But his face. Oh God. He’d rammed himself inside her and she watched his hurt transform into beautiful agony. She felt his muscles flexing as her hands roamed down his back, cupping his firm ass as he thrust deep enough, hard enough, to have her gasping for air. He obliterated her pain with each wild stroke, over and over.

 

Now, after so many years of longing, their first time had been filled with pain and grief, instead of being sweet and special. Had she ruined that between them for one brief moment of feeling something? She didn’t want brief moments. She wanted what she’d yearned for right from the start—the very moment she’d tripped up the school steps and lost her heart. But even now, with Ryan lying naked in her bed, he still wasn’t hers. The Army, and the war, owned him—body and soul. Fin never stood a chance.

 

Ryan’s palm scraped over her shoulder. “Fin?”

 

She shrugged it off. “Don’t touch me.”

 

“But—”

 

“I’m clean, okay? I had a medical for my expedition and I haven’t been with anyone since.”

 

“That’s not—” He paused. “Me too.”

 

She wasn’t on the pill though. Not that she’d tell Ryan that. The last thing she needed to see in his eyes was more panic. She’d go to the pharmacy in the morning and sort it out.

 

Sheets rustled behind her as Ryan shifted. His fingers began trailing their way down her spine, slowly circling each protruding bone until he reached the small of her back.

 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, concern weighting his voice.

 

Fin squeezed her eyes shut. “No.”

 

“You should eat something.” He shifted in close, his chest brushing against her back and she shivered. “Cold?”

 

Cold? The heat of him was scorching her skin and she wanted to bury herself in it. She pulled away a little instead. “I’m not anything except tired, Ryan.”

 

“Enough,” he growled. He grabbed at her, her body flailing as he stood up and tossed her over his shoulder.

 

“Oomph.” She pushed at his back. “Put me down!”

 

“No.”

 

“Now, Ryan,” she demanded as he stalked out of her bedroom. His hand slid up her leg, squeezing her bare ass, and she gasped.

 

“No.”

 

He carried her to the bathroom and reaching inside the shower, flicked on the taps while she struggled in his hold. “Ryan, please. I just want to sleep.”

 

Ryan ignored her. Stretching out a hand, he checked the temperature of the water as steam began pouring out. Setting her on her feet, he nodded at the shower. “Get in.”

 

Anger rose in her chest and it felt satisfying. “Stop telling me what to do!”

 

“Then stop with the cold bitch act. It’s not you and I don’t like it!” She resisted when he seized her shoulders. “Get in the goddamn shower!” he roared.