Page 79 of In the Shadows
The stretch was perfect. She was still sensitive, every nerve alive, and feeling him fill her completely made her gasp. He held still, giving her time, his forehead pressed to hers.
"Okay?"
"Yes."
He moved. Slow at first, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Long, deep strokes that made her moan. She wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle, and he cursed under his breath.
She silenced him with a kiss. Didn't need words. Just needed this—his body moving with hers, the friction building, the connection that went deeper than skin.
He picked up the pace. The bed creaked beneath them. She matched his rhythm, her hips rising to meet each thrust, her nails raking down his back. He hissed at the sting but didn't slow down.
"I'm close," she breathed.
He shifted, reached between them. Found her clit and rubbed in tight circles while he drove into her.
The second orgasm hit harder than the first. She cried his name, her body clenching around him, pulling him deeper. He thrust twice more, three times, and then he came too, his whole body shuddering, his face buried in her neck.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
His heart was still racing. So was hers.
Later, the ceiling fan turned lazy circles above them while Lila traced the map of scars on Ronan's chest.
"You’ve resisted talking about things," she murmured. "About staying. About the risks."
"I have?"
She propped herself up on one elbow. "About the syndicate and the possibility of targets on our backs."
"And?"
"And I've had a target on my back since the day I started investigating. The only difference now is that I'm not alone." She held his gaze. "I'm not asking you to protect me, Ronan. I'm asking you to stay."
"Those might be the same thing."
"They're not." She laid her palm flat against his chest, felt his heart beating steadily beneath her hand. "Protecting me means keeping me safe. Staying means building something. A life. Together."
He covered her hand with his. "That's what I want."
"Then stop warning me about the dangers and start planning the future."
His nostrils flared, his eyes held her motionless. The operative calculating risks gave way to something softer. Something hopeful.
"What kind of future?"
"I don't know yet. But I know it starts tomorrow." She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Almost midnight. "Warren was supposed to give the keynote at the dedication ceremony. Talk about legacy and sacrifice and what it means to build something that lasts."
"He won't be giving that speech now."
"No. Someone else will have to." She paused. "I'm thinking it should be me."
Ronan's eyebrows rose. "You?"
"I'm the event coordinator. And after tomorrow, everyone's going to know what Warren did. What Fielding did. What's been happening in this town for thirty years." She pulled the pillow over her face and held it there, breathing into the cotton, until the urge to scream passed. "They're going to need someone to tell them it's okay. That Blossom Springs is more than the people who corrupted it."
"Do you believe that?"
She thought about it. Really thought about it—not the anger she'd been carrying, not the grief, but what she actually believed about the place she'd lived her whole life.
