My vision narrows sharply, and a wave of red floods my sight. Trembling with fury, I''m forced to pull the car over to avoid crashing. I''m painfully aware that my anger might be frightening her, especially now that she''s finally opening up about her past on her own. But the rage I feel over how those men treated her is overwhelming and uncontroble.
"Hey, Finn. Look at me," she says softly, her voice cutting through the storm of my thoughts. I''m lost in a dark spiral, imagining every way I''ll make those who survived Ryker''s attack pay for what they did to Greta''s pack. Suddenly, I sense movement beside me. Before I realize it, she''s sitting on myp in the driver''s seat, her rough hands cradling my face gently.
"Finn, look at me. They''re all dead. Every single one of them. They were beaten, bloody, and burned. Please don''t let this consume you," she pleads, her eyes searching mine for some sign of peace.
I blink, slowly wrapping my arms around her waist. She pulls me closer, and the calm that washes over me is anchored by her familiar scent and the warmth of her touch. I wonder if I''ll ever be able to hear that chapter of her history without feeling this fierce need to protect her.
"I''m sorry," I whisper, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin at her vicle. A different kind of heat spreads through me, one fueled by more than just anger.
“For what?” she asks, her voice tender. “You didn''t do anything wrong."
"I want to know everything about you, about your past, but I can''t listen to you being
hurt without getting unbearably angry." I kiss her again and again, trailing soft kisses over every inch of exposed skin beneath her tank top.
"And apparently... horny," she giggles, the sound turning into a soft moan.
"Can you me me?" I tease, my voice low and rough.
“Uh, no..... not really," she stammers, as I draw her hips closer. Once I start, I have no intention of stopping until she''s writhing above me.
No matter how much she tries to respond, I keep my focus solely on her. I want to rece every painful memory with a new one-something good, something filled with pleasure. She begins to move against me on her own, grinding slowly, which gives me the chance to explore with my hands. But I keep my touch outside her clothes, setting myself a personal challenge: can I bring her to the edge without ever slipping beneath heryers?
The answer is a clear yes. She wants this desperately, dry-humping against me so intensely that I can feel the imprint of her zipper on my skin. Her cheeks flush a delicate pink just before she reaches her peak, her body trembling and hips moving wildly. I take over the rhythm, steadying her so she can fully ride out the wave of her orgasm. When it''s over, her forehead rests softly on my shoulder.
"I don''t want you to move, but we need to get back and report to Ryker. We have to find out if there''s any news about the kids so we can make a n. But if there''s a kid-free bed tonight, I might not be able to resist,” she murmurs, her lips brushing the sensitive skin of my neck in a gentle kiss.
About half an hourter, we pull into the gravel parking lot, greeted by four excited children. Trinity''s eyes glisten with tears as I crouch down to scoop her into my
arms.
"See? Greta told you we''d be back as soon as we could," I say softly.
"Did you get them all this time?" she asks cautiously.
"What do you mean, ''this time''?" Greta interjects, curious.
“Well, the rogues came before, and then when we were in the woods, and now they''re back again. Did you catch them all, or do you have to leave again?" Trinity''s sharp mind is clear as ever.
“We''re done with them for now, alright? Did you get to see the new baby yet?" I try to change the subject, hoping to lighten the mood.
"Oh yes! She''s so tiny. I can''t hold her yet, but Peyton got to because she''s bigger and helped out," Trinity beams.
As we climb the long staircase, I listen to a detailed y-by-y of the new baby''s arrival, the children''s excitement filling the air around us.