Reign: A Royal Military Romance

by Roxie Noir

  With a jolt, Delilah realized that she hadn’t been thinking beyond getting out of the lodge, but Miles was right: when she left here, she was leaving Fjords, probably forever.

  She didn’t care at all about her father’s estate. No matter how much it was worth, it wasn’t worth staying here.

  Miles, she realized, was trying to help her, even if it meant losing her again.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  She pulled her head away from his chest and looked up at him. He looked slightly surprised.

  “Why?”

  “I’m sorry that I came back and messed up your life,” she said. Fresh, hot tears made their way down her cheeks, and she hated herself for it, wished that she could tell Miles this without sobbing, but he got what he got.

  “I know this isn’t what you want, and it’s not even what I want, either, but if we were back together and then I left again, I could never forgive myself,” she said.

  Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I just can’t stand to hurt you again, Miles,” she said.

  Miles swallowed, and if she looked hard, Delilah thought she could see the faintest glimmer of a tear in his eyes.

  Very gently, he took her chin in one hand, using his thumb to wipe away a tear, and Delilah leaned into his warm, dry palm.

  Right now, all she wanted was his touch, more than anything, even though wanting it made her feel weak, like she couldn’t even resist her own desires.

  “I’m not sorry you came back,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I know you’re going to leave again, but—” he paused, and swallowed again, looking Delilah right in the eyes. “When I’m with you, I don’t care what happens next, in an hour or a day. You’re here, right now, and that’s what matters.”

  Then, before Delilah could say anything, he bent down and kissed her firmly, his lips hot with passion and desire fueled by years of longing.

  Delilah couldn’t help herself any more. Somewhere in the past day she had utterly lost her willpower and so now, even though she knew she shouldn’t, she kissed Miles back fiercely, gripping his thick shoulder with one hand, moving her lips against his.

  She’d been thinking about this almost nonstop since she got back to town, and off and on for years, and now she didn’t care what happened next, either.

  She moved her against Miles and then his other hand was on her back, searing hot against her rain-soaked cold skin, and she felt a shudder of desire move from her skin, all the way down to her bones.

  Miles’s kiss deepened, and his hand on her face tightened just a little, like he was afraid that she would break away, but nothing was further from Delilah’s mind. His tongue swept along her bottom lip and without a moment’s hesitation, Delilah parted her lips, meeting the tip of his tongue with her own.

  She could almost feel the electricity crackling between them as they kissed, her hand all over him now, clutching at the back of his head and pressing it to her own, not pausing for breaths. She kissed him voraciously, like she was afraid it would be the last time, like it could replace her need to breathe.

  At last, Miles pulled back, and for a split second Delilah was afraid that he was asserting control, that he’d straighten up and leave the room, make the wise choice, and she tightened her hands in his hair, but he just looked into her eyes for a moment, chest heaving.

  “Please don’t go,” she whispered.

  A smile twitched around his lips and sparkled in his eyes, making him looking almost rakish.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured.

  Desire surged through Delilah, and before she knew what she was doing she’d pushed his jacket from his shoulders, tossing the sodden mess somewhere else in the room, and then she was unbuttoning his shirt, her cold fingers fumbling with the wet buttons as he grabbed her and lifted, earning a little yelp of surprise.

  She pressed her face to his again, kissing him hard as she tightened her legs around his waist, her hands curled uselessly in his still-buttoned shirt, only the top two buttons undone.

  His hands were all over her, hot on her cold, wet skin, one holding her up and the other now tugging her soaked t-shirt off, lobbing it somewhere else. Delilah could hear it crumple into a wet pile, even as she struggled through the next button of Miles’s shirt.

  Then she was on the bed, half-placed, half tossed, and Miles was undoing the last two buttons of his shirt. He’d grown more chest hair since the last time she saw it, and now had a light covering of dark hair as he tore his shirt off, depositing it behind him.

  He leaned over her, one arm one either side, kissing her jaw and then her neck, nearly biting in his passion, and Delilah laid back and wrapped her legs around his waist again, savoring the feeling of his heat even through her cold denim, gasping and arching her back as he reached her shoulder with his lips, using one hand to tug down her bra strap over her arm, finally exposing her small pink nipple.

  Miles flicked his warm tongue over it, making Delilah gasp again, his hand tugging at her bra, dragging half of it down over her ribcage, even as his tongue danced over the sensitive pink nub. She reached her opposite hand up and over his chest, running her fingers through his chest hair, wondering what else was different since the last time they’d been naked together.

  He bent down, pushing his hands under her back, and she finally realized he was trying to undo her bra. She squirmed up, trying to let him have better access, but it didn’t work.

  Finally, she laughed. “Move,” she said, and he took his hands away, let her reach back and undo the thing in a matter of seconds before he tore it away without looking where it landed.

  Now he had both her breasts in his hands, heated against her skin, his lips traveling from her collarbone to her nipples, kissing every part of her. Then he stood, reaching for the button on her jeans, unzipping them and pulling the wet denim down and away from her body, her underpants sticking to them and coming off as well.

  Before he could push her back onto the bed, Delilah reached for Miles’s jeans as well, quickly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly, his erection already tenting the denim out, practically springing free in his boxers once his jeans were off. He kicked at them, finally getting them off of his ankles, removing his boxers and then, they were finally naked together, again.

  Delilah felt like she was operating on pure, animal instinct, like her high functions were totally overridden. She no longer had a sense of what she should or shouldn’t do, only a sense of pure want.

  What she wanted was Miles.

  She put her hands on his head again and drew him down, pressing her lips against his again, hard, licking at his lower lip and being granted access immediately. He lowered himself onto the bed and she could feel his pulsing hardness against her lower belly, a sensation that sent a bolt of pure desire down through her, making her even wetter than she’d already been.

  Delilah reached down and took his shaft in one hand, surprised at how familiar this all was. She slid her hand up and down it, flicking her thumb over the opening in the head and rubbing his slick pre-cum around. Miles moved his mouth from hers and leaned into the hollow of her neck, groaning. One of his hands moved down her body and straight to her sex, his long, rough fingers moving over her teasingly.

  “Delilah,” he half-panted, half-moaned.

  She responded by squeezing him again, eliciting another gasp as he buried his face against her soft skin, his fingers moving now against her clit in quick circles.

  Delilah didn’t think she could take it any more. She was nearly light-headed with desire, and she tilted her hips forward, Miles’s erection still in her hand, and nuzzled the head of his cock against her slit, slowly guiding it back and forth.

  He lifted his head and looking at her, a mixture of questioning and desire in his eyes. She could see him struggle with himself, against his desperate desire for her and a final, last-ditch effort not to cross a certain line, even as his breath came in ragged gasps.

  “I don’t know—” he started
.

  “Please, Miles,” she begged him, moving her hips up and down, making the head of his cock slide between her lips, just barely.

  That was all it took for him to smoothly slide himself home. Delilah moaned as he did, feeling the delicious fullness, arching her back, her nails raking down his back.

  If it hurt, he didn’t react, but growled from somewhere low in his chest, bringing his forehead down to touch hers as he began to thrust, slowly, their faces touching.

  “I’m sorry,” she gasped, her hands in his hair and her legs locked around his back.

  “I’m not,” he said.

  Their bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm, almost as if they were one person, Miles deep inside Delilah. She could feel the heat building fast, almost too fast, because she didn’t want to finish yet, she wanted to stay like this as long as she could, this perfect moment when there was nothing but her and Miles, utterly together.

  “Del,” Miles whispered, “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

  Just those words sent a surge through her, a shuddering electricity that started deep in her core and spread out through her whole body.

  “It feels so good when you’re inside me, Miles,” she whispered.

  He growled in response and pulled away for half a second, lifting one of her knees over his shoulder, thrusting even deeper, making Delilah curl her fingers into his hair, a look of utter bliss on her face.

  “Oh god, slow down, baby,” she moaned, her voice a half-whisper. “Slow down, slow down, yes, oh my god, Miles.”

  Her voice was getting louder, her eyes closed.

  “Just like that, baby, don’t stop, don’t — oh, oh!”

  For a split second, Delilah’s vision went white, and then the sensation of pure pleasure broke over her in a flood. She couldn’t speak any more, just make noises as she her body took over utterly, clawing and raking at Miles, trying to get him as deep as she could.

  “You’re beautiful when you cum,” Miles whispered, his voice strangled. “Baby, I’m gonna — oh...” He thrust again and again, as deep as he could as he came impossibly hard, his fingers digging deep into her shoulder, his breathing coming in grunts and gasps.

  For long moments, they were locked together like that in dual pleasure, rocking back and forth like one creature and then, slowly, they began moving individually, Delilah taking her leg off of Miles’s shoulder, Miles lifting himself off of her and then, finally, pulling out and lying next to her, sideways on the bed.

  He wrapped one arm around her and Delilah took his hand in hers, kissing the back of it and settling back into his warmth.

  Even now, there was the knowledge that she shouldn’t have given in to her desires, that leaving Fjords would be even harder now, but her whirring thoughts slowly gave way to the fuzzy warmth of sleep, of Miles curled around her, slowly stroking her hair.

  16

  Miles

  Miles thought he could have stayed there forever, curled around the love of his life, feeling her warmth against his, watching her sleep, but after a long time he got up, moved her around in the bed, and pulled the blankets over her.

  Then he kissed her softly on the forehead and collected his things, pulling them back on even though they were wet. He looked at her one more time, sleeping peacefully in the big four-poster bed, and then reached for the door.

  The two guards were still outside, leaning against the wall. One of them, some kid with dirty blond hair and brown eyes, smirked at him.

  “Having a good afternoon?” he asked.

  The other one sniggered.

  “Sounded good,” he said.

  Miles gave both of the boys a long look, totally silent until they were uncomfortable. They were barely more than cubs: he could take both of them out if they didn’t have backup, he knew, but he wasn’t about to let them ruin his good day.

  He turned and walked to the main room without answering them. For the first time since the meeting in the chapel, he felt like he had a reason to be hopeful about the future. Roy had said it himself: he was going to let Delilah go as soon as William was either better or dead.

  Then, maybe, just maybe, he could talk to Delilah about staying in Fjords.

  They could even move a little ways out of town somewhere, into the beautiful Alaska countryside, have their own little homestead with a couple of cubs...

  He shook his head. His thoughts were running away from him, again, and he just needed to focus on the present.

  In the kitchen, William was looking bad but wasn’t dead yet, at least, his back an angry red, close to purple. At least he was asleep, an empty medicine bottle next to him and an IV in his arm.

  Miles closed the door gently and went outside, wanting some fresh air. It had stopped raining, so he wandered around the perimeter of the lodge, watching the weird building styles merge into one another.

  He turned a corner and Nathan was right there. They hadn’t really spoken since the branding incident, and Nathan looked surprised to see him.

  Then he looked guilty.

  “Nathan,” Miles said, simply as a greeting.

  “Hey,” Nathan said, looking away.

  In a good mood, Miles was feeling magnanimous, like he ought to make things right with his only sibling.

  “I’m sorry about the other day,” he said, glancing around a little to make sure that none of Nathan’s other friends were there — they wouldn’t like hearing that Nathan’s own brother had tried to fight him, and there were considerably more of them than there were of Miles.

  Nathan shrugged and looked down at the ground.

  “It’s cool,” he muttered.

  Miles flexed his jaw. There was no one on the planet, he thought, who could push his buttons like his brother. All he had to say was it’s cool?

  “Well, glad we’re over that,” he said, taking a step backward. “Have a good day, then.”

  “Wait,” Nathan said.

  Something in his voice made Miles’s stomach start to tie itself into a knot.

  “What?” he asked.

  Nathan shrugged his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets, like he was trying to fold in on himself.

  “I heard Roy talking to Brock about her,” he muttered.

  “About who?” Miles asked, even though he already knew.

  “Delilah,” Nathan said, his head down as if he was talking to the ground.

  “Tell me,” Miles said.

  Nathan looked around again, nervously, and Miles grabbed a shoulder of his t-shirt, yanking his brother toward himself.

  “Tell me,” he growled, their faces only a few inches apart.

  “Jesus, man,” said Nathan. Miles let him go, feeling bad instantly. “What’s with you?”

  “Come on,” said Miles.

  Nathan shook his head and then sighed. It felt to Miles like he was taking forever to get to the point, but finally, the kid spoke again.

  “They’re gonna mate her to Brock,” Nathan said.

  Miles’s jaw dropped.

  “They know they can’t keep her under lock and key forever, so they’re going to mate her to Brock — since her dad’s dead Roy can give her away, you know — and then...” he trailed off.

  “Tell me,” Miles growled again, his voice plunging even deeper, his fist clenching and unclenching at his sides.

  “They’re gonna wait until she’s got a cub. They think she won’t leave if she does.” Nathan’s eyes flicked up and met Miles. Even though they were brothers, Miles felt like he didn’t know Nathan at all, like he’d never known this guy. He felt nauseous, his stomach twisting inside him, and he felt his bear rising inside him, wanting nothing more than to tear Nathan apart into little pieces, but he forced himself to keep it in check.

  Nathan was just the messenger, after all.

  “I guess they really want a doctor around,” Nathan mumbled. “I shouldn’t have told you, they’ll be so pissed if they find out...”

  He went on, but Miles wasn’t listening, his mind spinni
ng. He had to get back to Delilah, asleep in her room, had to make sure that she was safe, but how could he possibly keep her that way?

  He’d die to protect her, no question, but what was the point of that if she was married off and raped anyway?

  Miles walked away from Nathan, even though he was still talking, mumbling on about something or other.

  What could he possibly do? There was nothing. He couldn’t fight thirty other men, and there was no way they could sneak out, not with the place surrounded by grizzlies, who had the noses of bloodhounds and incredible hearing. He didn’t even have anyone else on his side. Everyone but he and Delilah were under Roy’s thrall, utterly subservient to him since he was the alpha.

  At that thought, Miles stopped short, right in the middle of the lodge’s front lawn, not far from where the cars were parked.

  That was it. That was the only way out.

  He pushed the lodge doors open, striding inside with purpose. Michael was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, and Miles walked over, raising himself to his full height.

  “Where’s Roy?” he demanded.

  Michael took a long moment, looking the younger man up and down thoroughly.

  “He went out to run some errands,” he said. “Why?”

  Miles felt like his heart was pumping pure adrenaline through his veins, every beat slamming against his chest.

  “When is he coming back?”

  Michael just shrugged, then turned back to the kitchen, watching William’s back rise and fall as he breathed.

  Miles stalked away, sitting on one of the leather couches.

  He would wait.

  17

  Delilah

  For a moment, Delilah wasn’t sure what had woken her. She was buck naked between the sheets and alone, though the last thing she remembered was being warm and safe in Miles’s arms, on top of the covers.