Mature Content 17+ || Savage Wolves MC Book Three
Talia's been through hell and back. After suffering at the hands of Dmitri Petrov and his band of goons, she was left broken and ruined.
But, she isn't going to let that stop her from being the woman...
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•Ryder•
I try and make her feel safe and secure in my arms. I try and make sure she knows I'm here for her and I'm never letting go. If she wants to cry for eternity, I'll hold her through the pain, the joy, the release of pent up emotions. I am here for her.
I stroke her hair, pressing my lips into the soft strands atop her head. I watch us in the vanity mirror in front of her bed. Her legs are entwined with mine, her hands balled into fists against my ripped open shirt, her face buried in my chest, staining the tattoos there with her tears.
Tears I will gladly take in if her pain is surrendered with them.
I slide the bottom of her dress back down over her hips and the top back over her chest to give her back a sense of security and she kisses my chest in return.
We're both quiet, only the sounds of our breathing and the distant roar from the strip accompanying our embrace.
We stay like that for minutes I couldn't even keep track of, just holding onto one another as if either one of us would drift away would our hands leave the other.
Her tears have subsided, leaving my chest damp and cooled and her cheeks stained with mascara. I notice when she looks up at me and attempts to wipe them away, only making matters worse when her makeup smears across her cheek.
"Sorry," I whisper when she chuckles and dips her head to wipe her cheeks herself, only worsening the already messy situation.
"It's okay."
Bringing her head back up, she reaches up and places her lips against mine and I can taste the salt still lingering on her lips.
"I didn't know it could be like that again," she muses, looking off towards her window where lights from nearby car's headlights shine through the blinds every few seconds.
"It can be like this all the time."
She lifts her upper half and props her head up on her hand, supported by her elbow. "Are you proposing we keep this up?"
I smirk. "Nothing will ever stop me from burying myself between your thighs again; only you telling me no is going to get me to stray from your body."
She chuckles and tilts her head down, running her small hand up my chest to trace the tattoos there. After years of collecting, they've started to blur together and she doesn't trace just one, but many that mark my pale skin.
"Thank you."
"For the orgasm?" I joke, pushing her hair back over her shoulder to look into her eyes, though bloodshot and covered in watery makeup, still beautiful beyond belief.
"Well, yes, that for sure, but really for bringing just a sliver of hope and happiness back into my life. I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to do that again." She falls back beside me, her head collapsing into the pillow. "I've tried," she starts, unsure of herself. I can hear the embarrassment in her voice and stop her.
