“Someone’s watching us.”
He sat up, immediately reaching for his weapon in the pile of clothes on the floor beside them. Sophie halted him, one hand imploring resting on his chest and the other on a forearm, her mouth hovering across his earlobe.
“No, I mean,” she said, hesitating. “I think he is watching us… and getting himself off on it.” She tipped her head to the back wall of windows, towards the thicket of forest out beyond the tiny home. “See? It’s just a boy.” She laughed, her amusement, and perplexed arousal embodied upon her voluptuous features. “I guess it startled me a little.”
Tib relaxed when he realized there wasn’t any danger. The boy was young, perhaps very early teens. The youngster’s swollen erection was held in hand and a sheepish look was on his blushing face. The voyeur kept looking around as if afraid of getting caught.
As for Tiberius… the idea that Sophie was turned on a bit by exhibitionism made him harder than ever. But he wasn’t ready to share her—not ever.
“I should wring the kid’s neck for looking at you,” he said, rolling himself over her as he grabbed his shirt from the floor and used it as a blanket for the rest of her exposed body. Sophie let out another soft laugh, this one full of desire for him and his jealous reaction.
“Maybe,” she said. “But if we just moved into the bedroom instead and closed the curtains, he’d never see us…”
Tib looked down at her, at her glowing skin and the warmth that seemed to radiate from her, and he found he couldn’t stop himself. He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth and ran his fingers along her silky skin. She wanted him again. That she did, filled him with triumphant, heady glee. His cock pressed against her belly, fully aware and ready to go.
He muttered, scooping her up into his arms and carting her swiftly into the alcove, “Damn kid. Trying to see what’s mine.”
Sophie’s eyes darted up to his, and Tib felt an embarrassed flush stain his cheeks. She leaned her head on his chest, her arms about him. Her face had gone hot with pleasure at his words, but she didn’t further his discomfort by replying. Instead, she added fuel to the fire inside of him by stoking his lust with her sweetly said response.
“Take me again, sir. I want to feel you deep inside—”
Tib let out a groan as he laid her down on the bed and yanked the curtains closed behind them. “Darling, that’s a promise I intend to make good on… right now.”
He slid his body up along hers. Her eyes grew dark with the immediate passion for him she never failed to find. God, the response from this woman was beautiful. He couldn’t have picked someone more perfect for him than her.
The thought sent a cold chill up his spine. She was perfect, wasn’t she? His eyes narrowed slightly, the soldier in him analyzing her. Tiberius still wasn’t sure if he completely believed her story of coming to the Ruins. She sounded authentic. He wanted like hell to believe her. He’d fucked her, and by all that was in him, he’d never felt anything like it. Maybe that was the issue.
No, it wasn’t at all. The real reason was more impervious. Tiberius Blackfield, who never feared anything, was fucking scared.
Her hand rested on his frozen shoulder. “Sir? Are you all right?”
His voice came out gruff. He rolled away from her, closing his eyes. His cock throbbed like a bitch in hell, and he wanted to sink deep into her, but now he wouldn’t give himself the privilege. He had a mission to accomplish. He needed to focus—and not on his dick.
“You should probably get some rest,” he bit out. “We don’t know what shit might break loose later when we go see this Most Pure.”
Her voice quivered a little. “All right. If that’s what you want.”
Fuck. He was a ruthless bastard for hurting her.
He didn’t answer, though. Hell no, especially when all he wanted to do was reassure her. Her pain wasn’t what he wanted in the least. He wanted to grab her into his arms, hold her until she felt safe and content and ready for more lovemaking. Until there was no more worry in either of their eyes. But thoughts like those were foolish and not becoming of the Colonel’s lieutenant. He wasn’t made a soldier for absolutely nothing; he was a hard-ass and goddamn proud of it.
She rolled over, her back to him. He heard a quiet sniffle. His eyes closed again, this time with the greatest of self-loathing.
Fuck. A double-damn merciless whoreson, that’s all he was. He broke at the sound of her tears, his eyes opening up to her and to the middle of her back, still turned against him.
“Sophie—”
She turned back around, the sassy spitfire inside of her out full throttle. Her finger repeatedly jabbed his chest, and in her anger, her body half-lay across his. Her bountiful breasts spread across him and for a moment he was distracted by the wealth of the luscious sight. Her words brought him back down to reality.
“You are a coward, sir. I don’t care who you are… soldier, lieutenant, Master…” Her eyes were like amber flame. “You’re running away from this…” She gestured between the two of them. “And it’s very—” She choked up and slammed over to her back, wiping her tears from her eyes. “It’s very unbecoming.”
He wanted to smile. She couldn’t even yell at him properly, her natural sweetness superseding her anger.
“Darling, come here.”
Tiberius took her hand. She wouldn’t hold it in return, a silent and pointed revolt against him. He scooped her up against him, cradling her soft warmth to his hard strength. Females. So damned emotional.
“Sophie…” He lowered his mouth to her lips, kissing the outer corners gently. Once. Twice. He tasted the salt of her tears. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I am running.”
Her fingers paused a split moment and then squeezed, holding and linking into his, giving quiet reassurance of her presence. She hadn’t given up on him, after all. Broken-sounding, she asked, “Why, though?”
He sighed. “I’ve never done this before.”
Her eyebrow tipped up, wanting him to continue. He inhaled sharply.
“I’m a mean bastard, Soph—”
She interjected, another quick flare of temper leaking out. “Yes. You sure are.”
He smiled against her hair, the long piece that tucked low and curled about her throat. His lips pressed to her pulse in a kiss, but then he pulled back, watching her for any inclination she’d forgive him.
“People are afraid of me.”
“I’m not.”
He grinned. “No. Which is why I like you.” His smile disappeared, knowing he had to grovel some more. He realized he wanted to, and he wasn’t above doing it. “You know, you do scare the shit out of me and I’ll fully admit it. I’ve never cared for anyone or anything in my life. I’ve been alone, all the time, alone—”
He turned his eyes away. She ran her fingers along his jawline.
“Not anymore,” she said.
He turned his face into her palm, letting her cradle him in her tiny hand. His heart might explode with the fascination of hope stemming from the promise in her voice and in her touch. Might he have a chance at redemption? A dark and twisted and cold man like him?
“No,” he said softly. “Not anymore.”
She mulled over his words, her eyes dimming with concern. “You won’t leave me, will you, Tiberius?”
He knew what she meant. Leave her once he found her children. Leave her once he’d tired of her body. Maybe he might have—once. Or the old him would’ve. But she’d grown on him so much the thought of not being near her each and every day filled him with agony.
He