by Cherry Adair
Her underwear was a deep sky-blue this time, not more than a curve of a strapless bra that barely covered her nipples, and what passed for a thong but was merely a small panel of lace over her mons, with a thin satin ribbon at each hip. Sliding his palms between skin and the ribbon, he tore the anchor free, delighting at her closed-eyes shiver as he pulled the wisp of fabric from between her legs, leaving her wearing only the scrap of a bra and high-heeled sandals.
Eyes all pupil, she looked up at him, hands busily undoing the fly on his dress pants. “You have on way too many freaking clothes, Bishop Daklin.” Unerring, busy fingers tugged at the zipper. It was a challenge, he was sure, since he was so large and unyielding behind the confinement.
"Kick them away," she ordered, shoving down his pants. "Oh, commando." Her eyes glowed hot and wicked. "What an interesting fashion choice for a man of the cloth. I'm a little shocked." She grinned and stroked a hand up the length of his penis, lingering at the moisture welling at the tip. "
He ripped off his shirt and clerical collar. Buttons bounced on the hardwood floor. He pressed his naked chest against the softness of her breasts, loving seeing her in nothing but diamond earrings, the sheer dark blue fabric of her bra, which did nothing to hide the pink of her nipples, and those fuck me heels. Gliding a hand down her thigh, he hooked her behind her knee.
Curling her leg over his hip left her fragrant and open. "Take me in your hand, River. Bring me home."
#
Ash tasted of salt, his skin blazing hot against hers. His fingers tightened painfully on the globe of her ass as he urged her to take him. Holding her up, he pressed hot kisses to her throat as he tightened his fingers on the under curve of her butt, pulling her flush against him.
The desire in his eyes left her breathless. Her nipples tightened and her skin felt shimmery, as if static electricity flowed through her veins. Slapping a hand on his chest, she crowded his body with hers, twisting, and turning so she could slam him against the wall.
Panting, his eyes narrowed to slits of electric blue, Ash's voice was rough as he said thickly, "Really?"
River tightened her fingers around his silken, throbbing length. He was rock hard, pulsing, and eager. "Think I can't?"
"I was hoping you w—"
To taunt him even further, she took his mouth. Hot, slick, delicious. The very air crackled around them as River tasted him, while her hand learned the length and breadth of his penis. The muscles in his lower belly flexed as she removed her hand, delighting when he groaned his frustration.
"Good things come to those who wait." She was imprinting him in her memory, running her fingers along his skin, memorizing the hardness of his muscles, the smoothness of his skin here, and roughness there. The puckered scar of a bullet wound on his hip. The long knife cut, just beneath his rib, where uneven stitches had pulled the skin.
He wasn't invincible. He was flesh and blood, her wounded warrior. River couldn't even bear to think about what he had planned for later that night. She couldn't bear the thought that he was going to go through with it, with the odds stacked against him. The idea of Ash no longer existing, of never being able to touch him again, was too horrible to contemplate.
Her throat tight, she splayed her hand on his chest, then lowered her head, kissing her way across his hard pecs, tonguing one hard flat nipple, then the other. Inhaling the heady scent of his clean skin and the salty flavor of him under her tongue, she explored his chest with her lips, teeth, and hands.
Dragging her palms down the battled-scared skin at his sides, she slid both hands down over the rock hard ridges of his abs. "Wow. A twenty pack."
He laughed out a curse, then muttered. "Can't count."
He was tensile steel covered with smooth skin roughened by dark hair. Following the dark trail down below his navel, she tasted his saltiness, breathing deeply of the scent of his skin, profoundly aware of their shared urgency and need.
She was burning and pulsing from the inside out. But this was it. The last time. The only time she had left, and damn it, she wasn't about to waste a single second. She was going to savor every moment if it killed her. Then she'd lock it away in her memory. Anticipation had never felt this good.
Sliding to her knees, she trailed kisses down his left thigh where scars and raised flesh puckered his skin. Old surgeries, new surgeries. So much pain. So much regret.
Her hands lingered, learning, empathizing, tracing the marks, his badges of courage.
"That leg's had all the attention it needs," he murmured, cupping the back of her head to redirect her.
His fingers tangled roughly in her hair as she took him into her mouth. She heard the back of his head thud against the wall as she gripped the base of his penis and twirled her tongue around the glans. His breathing became more ragged, his grip in her hair tighter as she increased the torment.
Gliding her hand along the base of his erect penis, so thick and alive, she clamped her fingers around the pulsing length, then stroked her tongue along the throbbing vein on the underside before circling the hood with her lips.
Ash tightened his fingers in her hair and sucked in a breath as she stroked his length with the slick warmth of her tongue. Silk over steel. River took half the length of him into her mouth, creating a wet suction that had his breath ragged. His hips jerked, driving him deeper into her mouth.
Stilling him with a hand on his hip, she curled her fingers around to cup his butt cheek and hold him where she wanted him.
Where she wanted him was Portland. As far from Los Santos, explosives, and Francisco Xavier as possible.
This moment was all she had. Ash, and the moment. No morning after. No future. It was a useless endeavor wishing for the impossible.
Using her tongue, she lapped and sucked, swirled and used teasing flutters to drive him mad. She loved the taste and texture of him. Loved the power she had to make him moan as he stood there and let her drive him to the breaking point. Loved that she was about to break his self-control. That was power.
Deepening her strokes and pulls, she drew him into her mouth as deep as she could. She reveled in his harsh, ragged breathing and the almost painful grip where his fingers wound tightly in her hair as his body tightened and shook.
He might have been enjoying the hell out of what she was doing, but she knew he had considerable self-control and he wasn’t about to lose it.
Cupping her face gently in both hands, he firmly drew her away from his penis.
River blinked up at him, lightheaded with lust.
"I want to come inside you,” he said softly. “Not here."
"Not here? Not here in this room? Oh!"
Hands under her arms, he hauled her upright. River wobbled on weak knees. Without missing a beat, he scooped her up. She'd forgotten she still wore her heels, and her shoes thudded to the carpet one at a time as he carried her to the bed, leaving her sprawled on her back wearing just her bra.
"Here," he murmured, positioning himself between her outspread legs, using his hips to push hers even further apart. "Now."
He surged inside her to the hilt. The sudden sensation of fullness brought with it an exquisite, full-body shudder as he seated himself so deep, River felt him in every nerve cluster in her body.
With a throaty growl she tightened her arms around his neck as he stopped for a second, lifted his hips slightly, then surged impossibly deeper.
As he started thrusting, she managed to formulate real words, her breath ragged and raspy with clawing need "This is killing me."
Eyes dark with lust, he groaned in response. “Me too.”
River clamped her legs around his pumping hips, her arms around his broad shoulders. She met each movement he made with equal force, holding on for dear life as, breathlessly, they came together. He swallowed her moans with a kiss. Then, when they both could move, he flipped her over, positioning her so that she lay on top of him. He stayed inside of her, cupping her butt with his large hands, keeping their hips joined. Time passed
. Neither made a move to separate their bodies. As though every second counted, they kept kissing. Soft kisses. Long kisses. Hungry kisses. And still, he stayed inside of her. It was as though he never wanted to leave. For a while, he was only semi-hard. Then he lengthened. Hardened. Their need built again. She moaned when he pushed deeper inside of her again.
This time, he moved fast, flipping her to her stomach, pinning her to the bed, and thrusting up, deep and deeper still, taking her breath with his hunger. Having her flat on the bed beneath him wasn’t enough for him. He pulled her hips up to his, so she was on her knees, with her face buried against the pillow.
“You okay?”
“Better than okay,” she moaned. “Feels like . . . heaven.”
With each hard thrust, her walls tightened more and more. Biting the pillows, she felt his fingers brushing her clit, as he thrust in and out of her with more power than anyone had ever used with her before. She came, hard, with a climax that started deep inside of her and continued, until she was moaning his name. “Yeah,” he said. “Say it.”
“What?” she managed to ask.
“My name.”
So she did. Over and over again, as he kept thrusting. Until, too soon, he was still, gripping her hips tight. She felt him spilling into her, filling her.
“Where have you been all of my life?” he moaned, lifting her, and once again draping her over him, so that her legs were spread over his.
“Portland.”
He chuckled, then pressed his hips closer to her, pushing his penis further in again, threading his fingers through her soft flesh where they joined, toying with her clit, trying not to slip out of her. “I love the way you feel. I’m sorry to see this end.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “Don’t let it end.”
“Think about something else for a few minutes. Let me regroup.” He moaned as he slipped out of her.
"How’s this for something different, Ash? How the hell is everyone going to go over that pass?" River asked, dropping a row of kisses across his shoulder.
"We have large earth movers on the way in."
Twenty feet overhead, the lazily circling fan sluggishly moved warm air over their damp sweaty skin. River was still sprawled half over his body as they lay in a post-coital glow. She had one leg over his, her hand splayed over his chest, head tucked under his chin. Both of them too spent to move. With her breast pressed against his chest, she felt the steady, strong beat of his heart. Her bra was on the floor, and she'd lost an earring in the tangled sheets.
River knew that far too soon, this quiet interlude would be over. She needed a game plan. She was no one’s responsibility. Oliver was long gone, and Ash had his own agenda. An agenda that had far reaching repercussions way more important than her safe exit. In this life and death situation, she was on her own.
"They'll clear the road at dawn, but honestly," Ash lazily trailed his fingers down the middle of her back, making her shiver, his soft touch at odds with his harsh tone. "that's too damned late. Marcus and my team on the other side of the slide are working on a way to get you and the others out before I go up to the mine tonight. We have a couple of choppers coming in, but not enough to move a hundred people, and not without alerting Xavier and his men that we’re here. It’s not that we couldn't handle them, but I don’t want to put you and the villagers in the crossfire." He stroked her butt cheek.
"I told Marcus I'd help him do whatever's necessary. I took Juanita." When Ash gave her a puzzled look, she clarified. "Pregnant maid at dinner the other night?"
"Ahh."
"The baby's Franco's," River told him, sifting her fingers through the strands of his dark hair then trailing them down the strong column of his throat. "And according to her, he wants it. That'll be over her dead body, apparently. She's really terrified of him, which really, really, really makes me want to punch him in the balls."
"He'll get worse."
"Excellent. Too bad I won't be around to see it," River told him with asperity. "Juanita's with Father Marcus now. He'll hide her in case Franco comes sniffing around."
Ash tucked her hair behind her ear, his warm fingers lingering on her cheek. She loved the way he touched her, as if she were fine china, but he'd made love to her as if she was his equal in strength and power. He'd given and received as enthusiastically as she had. They'd both have bruises tomorrow. She didn't care. She felt alive, and greedy, and she'd make love to him a hundred more times through the day and night if they could.
Their time was almost up, and they both knew it.
"She'll be safe with Marcus. He'll ensure both of you get out in time. I hate like hell not being able to take you myself."
"I can take care of myself. I've been doing it a long time. Don't worry about me, okay?"
"Yeah. I know how tough you are," he said, and he wasn't teasing. "I don't know many woman who could've done what you did today without freaking out. You were incredibly cool under pressure. It was a hell of a thing to watch you drive while we were under heavy fire."
"I figured screaming Stop! Stop! Stop! at the top of my lungs and getting hysterical would have zero effect on the guys trying to turn us into human sieves."
"Most women would've folded."
"I'm not most women."
"No. No, you're not, River Sullivan. Not only beautiful, but also cool under fire. I admire the hell out of you, you know that?" Over her head, he tilted his wrist to check the time. Ash didn't have to tell her that it was rapidly running out for them. "Did you come across anything interesting when you went sneaking around last night?" As he talked, he stroked her back, tunneling his fingers through her hair.
River closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the quiet moment, adding it to her memories for later. "Other than the kink room, and that my pricy lingerie was being used for bondage? Not really. Wait. Maybe.” She thought about the envelope of pictures she'd found hidden at the back of a drawer. The redhead, from baby to adult. “He might have a love child somewhere. Would that be of interest?"
"Anything about his business, about him, could be useful, especially if it reveals anyone involved in his enterprises. A name or location might help us with decrypting a cloud site we found. Any business associates, partners. Does your brother have any aliases?
River made a rude noise. "Aliases? My brother didn't have friends, let alone an alter ego. His middle name is--"
"Michael. We know."
"I hope you're not implying Oliver had a hand in running things here? If you'd seen my brother trying to manage the store after our parents were killed, you'd know he has no business acumen whatsoever. Maybe the illegitimate daughter is involved?"
"Why are you so sure that he has an illegitimate child? In case you haven't noticed all the photographs around, he has a dozen kids."
River folded her arms across his chest, and rested her chin on her forearm to look up at him. "I found photographs of a woman with red hair. Gorgeous in a scary, I'm-a-Black–Widow-spider, kind of way."
"Another girlfriend?" Ash suggested with a slight smile as he traced her lips with his thumb, as if fascinated by the shape.
River bit the marauding digit. "I assure you, Juanita isn’t his “girlfriend,” and I didn't come across any pictures of her. There was an ultrasound picture. But the baby looked to be too big for Juanita's; she is only a few months along. So I presume the baby in the ultrasound is of one of his many other children."
"To my knowledge, he doesn't have any redheaded daughters. All his kids have black hair."
River shifted, so she could place a lingering kiss on one of his abs, then straightened. "Maybe he had a redheaded mistress? Still, even for Franco, that would be weird taking pictures of her as a baby, and then—- Nah. Too gross. But that girl must've had a mother. She was the mistress, maybe?"
"If so, he's been remarkably secretive about it. We’ve looked into every aspect of his life. I'll have my people look again, trying to identify the redhead and find out who she is to him. We've apprehended
his wife and youngest son. They were taking a crapload of money as a gift to the Vatican. We got his other two sons and a non-nun daughter. We’re rounding up the rest of the family, nuns and priests included. Even with the mine annihilated, we don't want any member of his family to take up the family business when this is all over.”
He stroked her cheek. "I'd like a look at those photographs. Maybe something in one of them will ring a bell. Tell me where they are, and I'll get them later so we can try and ID her."
"There's a small drawer on the right side of his desk downstairs. Blue envelope about this big, shoved to the back." She indicated the size. "If you have his whole family in custody, maybe someone can identify her?"
"We'll run her through T-FLAC's facial rec system, first. We should be able to find out who she is to Xavier, and if she's important. After tonight, Francisco Xavier and his enterprise will be done, once and for all. I don't want loose ends."
For a moment, River included himself in that. Perhaps Ash had too many demons and he thought death was the better option. "Why not just take him now? The thought of sitting down to dinner with that creep again gives me the freaking willies."
"We have a few hours. He has an army there, give or take a hundred well-armed men, dogs, and long-range guns. The surrounding area, as you saw, has no cover for miles. Going in under cover of darkness will even the odds."
"You think you and your handful of men, against a gazillion soldiers, is evening the freaking odds? You're kidding, right?"
Ash smoothed away her scowl with his fingertip. "We're damn good."
"I sure hope you're not being braggy. You'd better be damn good."
"You don't have to come downstairs at all. As far as he's concerned, it's business as usual. I'll go to dinner and keep him occupied until it's time to take him out. We need the time between now and then to finish evacuating the village. I'm going to leave Ram here to watch your back until you're clear."
"No. You need everyone with you." River replied adamantly. "How many of you are supposed to go up there tonight?"
"Six."
"Well if that was the plan, for God's sake, stick to it. I'm pretty damned sure you can't afford to be one man short. I'll be with Marcus and the people who come to get us out. I'll be fine. Really."