“Be reasonable. That wound is going to get infected, and with you sick out here, the op is endangered. I’m the one who knows my uncle’s estate best, secret room or not.”
The leg could damned well fall off before he’d allow her to come back into this hellhole without him. The very thought of having to wait days for word of her safety was enough to make him sick. And if August caught her, she’d die horribly. Disappear without a trace.
“We finish this together or not at all,” he emphasized. His tone left no room for further argument. “End of discussion. Now, patch me up and stop harping at me.”
“Harping?” Daria fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Stubborn, hardheaded idiot!”
She looked like an angry goddess with her shiny raven hair falling around her shoulders. He couldn’t help but manage a tired smile.
“And you are my angel. I’d wrestle all the beasties in the universe for you.”
“Oh, Ryon,” she said on a sigh. The irritation on her lovely face vanished. “You’re impossible.”
“Kiss me,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“I think I can handle that.”
Cupping his cheek, she bent and covered his lips in a slow, tender kiss. So good, so right. A warm, fuzzy haze descended over him and he became weightless. Daria’s touch had a way of banishing the ache in his body, his heart.
As he watched her clean and dress his wounds, he prayed that they would survive this and go home.
Where they both belonged.
Afternoon light penetrated Daria’s eyelids and she stifled a groan as she awoke from the brief, unplanned nap. Much more pleasant was the weight of warm, solid male draped across her. Too warm. Obviously, he’d needed the rest.
“What am I going to do with you?” she whispered, combing his hair out of his face; then she touched his forehead and uttered a curse. He had a fever. Carefully, she wiggled out of his hold.
Ryon’s lashes fluttered open. For a couple of seconds he seemed confused. Then it passed and he pushed up to a sitting position and gave her a boyish grin.
“Hey, beautiful. I woke up to find my arms empty. Now, why is that?”
“I had to breathe, for one. You were squashing me.”
In an instant, his expression turned sorrowful. “Sorry. Come here and allow me to check your sweet person for bruises.” The predatory gleam in his eyes made her pulse race.
“Oh, you are so bad.”
“I’m trying. A little cooperation, please?”
“Take it easy, hotshot. You’re already getting a fever.”
“Yes,” he growled meaningfully. “I am.”
Ryon patted the blanket beside him and her gaze dipped south. He was gloriously naked, and not a man to let an injury get in the way of his desires. “I can see that.”
“See what you do to me?” He cupped the back of her head and drew her to him.
Her mate captured her mouth, tongue sweeping inside, devouring. Hot and demanding, it speared her, darting in and out. Tasting, igniting the flames. He wasn’t asking. This was 100 percent pure male, taking what belonged to him, and it sent a thrill of joy straight into her soul.
He took her hand, guided it to him. “Only yours, angel.”
The smooth texture of him was wondrous. Satin and steel. She was glad she’d undressed before joining him for their nap as he bent and captured one delicate nipple in his teeth. He grazed it, sending little circles of delight through her belly.
His fingers crept along the inside of her thigh until they found her center. They flicked the little nub until she moaned, spreading her legs wider. He dipped two fingers inside, stroking, driving her mad.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “So hot and wet.”
“Ryon, please.”
He gave a wicked laugh, rubbing the sensitive mound with deliberate slowness. Any second, she would fly apart.
“Please what?”
“I need you inside me,” she panted.
Ryon hauled her into his lap facing him, her legs straddling his thighs. He hissed in pain as she bumped his bandages. Before she could scoot off him, big hands encircled her waist. He lifted her slightly, then seated her atop him, burying his shaft deep.
Linking her arms around his neck, she looked into his face, and began to pump her hips. Lips turned up, he gazed back, the raw sexual heat in his eyes threatening to burst her into flames.
“That’s it, ride me. I’m yours,” he murmured.
Daria thrilled at his words, as the two of them joined together. The slick hardness of him, filling her completely. Sliding up and down, she moved slowly at first, needing to become familiar with every inch of him. Every decadent sensation. She leaned into him, stroking her bud along his shaft, flirting with making them both lose control.
“Daria, baby, you’re killing me.”
Ryon’s breathless plea pushed her over the edge. He’d closed his eyes and tilted back his head, cupping her bottom. This big, strong man had given himself over to her seduction. A powerful, feral beast, tamed in her arms. She’d never seen anything so totally erotic.
Her control shattered and she rode Ryon hard. She clasped him tight, hands splayed on his back, enjoying the play of his muscles as he met her thrusts. Molten waves crashed over them, carrying them on a red tide. He went rigid, his cry of fierce, savage pleasure mingling with hers, merging their souls. Spasms rocked them as his release poured into her.
They held each other for a while, unmoving. A tendril of fear snaked its way into her heart that this happiness was fleeting. That she would lose him before this was over.
“We should get ready to go. The day is almost gone,” Ryon pointed out.
“Wish we didn’t have to.”
“There’s nothing I’d like more than to blow off this whole thing.” He sighed. “Sometimes it sucks being the good guy.”
“I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
He winked. “Really? Because I’m saving my bad boy side just for you.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They began to gather their things and finally headed out for her uncle’s estate. If they managed to escape him a second time, it would be a miracle.
The scent of his mate on his own skin was driving him out of his frigging mind. He wanted to throw her to the ground and make love to her again. And again.
The woman had turned his heart inside out. Like a little boy playing with matches, he hadn’t been able to resist her spark. The flames would burn out of control, consume them. And it would be worth the burn.
He wasn’t sure whether he’d tasted heaven or had been cast into hell. Probably both. Pausing, he wiped the sweat from his brow. Her nearness wasn’t the only reason he was about to spontaneously combust.
“Are you okay?” Daria asked, touching his shoulder.
He turned and gave her his best reassuring smile. “No worries.”
She wasn’t buying. Feeling his forehead for the hundredth time, she scowled. “I think your fever is getting worse, and you’re limping.”
“I was nearly the main course for lunch. Of course I’m limping.”
“Men can be such idiots. Here, let me take your temperature again.”
She slung her pack off, but he laid a hand on her arm. “I am not putting another one of those paper thermometers under my tongue. Put it away, will you? You’re starting to freak me out.”
“You’ve had worse things in your mouth, my wolf. And last time I checked it was one hundred point three.”
“From being near you, angel.”
She scowled. “Insufferable man.”
He sighed in exasperation, but he had to admit it was nice being fussed over by his beautiful woman. “You’ve cleaned and changed the dressings. There’s nothing else to do, so stop worrying.”