Merrily Mated(23)

***

The blinds did their job shielding the rest of the room from the early morning sun. It had taken Ryan a whole year to get them just right so the cracks didn’t land on his bed, and luckily no one had messed with them in the week he’d been gone.

He was warm even with his jean-clad legs halfway out from under the covers, his woman’s body molded to his side as if there was no other way to sleep. His bed would never be the same.

It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up to everything that had happened overnight, and when it did, his eyes came open, hoping to catch Layna before she woke. Watching her sleep was comforting to him.

But he was too late. Her big emerald eyes stared back at him, unreadable. Clear and knowing. Like they could see inside his thoughts. The tranquilizer was gone from her system, and not even sleep seemed to cloud her mind this morning.

And hell, was she beautiful in the morning. Just as he always knew she would be. The harsh features that made her daily sarcasm so successful were softened by sleep. Her full lips didn’t smirk. Her hair was messy and spread out all over his pillows. It was a private view of her no one but him had the privilege of witnessing. Just like her tears last night, and it made his heart soar only to crash again.

When would this loop of hope and reality stop? Ever?

He should get up, find Doc for an exam. Get Layna water, food. Anything but lay there with her naked body so close and her scent on his hand and her damn endless eyes reading him.

But he stayed exactly as he was. Bonding. Because he wanted it and she needed it.

Treat her like a female cat. Doc’s word of advice came back to him, and the song What’s Love Got To Do With It flitted across his mind in an ironic jab.

“How do you feel?”

Ryan watched her throat work down a swallow. “Stronger.”

“Does your back hurt?”

Layna shook her head. “I suspect most of the damage won’t show in my human form. I won’t know how much I’ve healed until I shift.”

“Doc says our bond might not be strong enough to fix the damage.”

Her brow furrowed until a tiny line formed above her nose. In an instant, he could feel anger rolling off her, replacing the stillness between them. “You know what, fuck that. Doc doesn’t know shit about us. No one does. She can go fuck herself—”

He pressed his lips against hers, stopping her tirade before she got even more riled. It did more than shut her up though. It took the wind right out of her sails and made her soft and pliable again. She was the Layna from last night but without the fog of the tranq. And it made him wonder, was this the female he’d admired all these years when her defenses were down? Was this what an exposed Layna was like, opening herself up to him? Or was this still just about recovering.

Sweeping his tongue along the opening of her lips, he relished the plush feel, and when she opened, he dove inside, tasting every hot inch of her mouth. His heart pounded in his chest wanting out. He’d hand it right to her if he could. It was hers anyway. After this, he’d never kiss another.

Her tongue danced with his this time, in a careful, searching waltz. As if she was memorizing every moment of the kiss, every move that kept them joined. As if she’d want to recreate it in the future.

Ryan pulled back to stare into her eyes, shocked by what he saw there. Tears. Big, bulging tears that threatened to overspill her lids. He wanted to rage against them. Wipe them from her cheeks and learn where they came from so he could make sure they never surfaced again.

His woman crying ripped a fucking hole in his chest.

But this was Layna. She’d never want to seem weak. She’d want him to ignore the tears, pretend she hadn’t broke.

“You have such a dirty mouth,” he murmured in appreciation.

“You’ve always known that,” she defended, her bottom lip jutting in defiance. “You never seemed to mind.”

“Yes, but I never got to taste it.”

She eyed him, her teeth coming down on that lip. Damn it, she was sexy like that.

“What’s it taste like?”

“It’s downright filthy. Makes me want to lick it clean.”

He watched as her eyes grew wide, the tears forgotten, and he swooped in for another hot kiss. Layna’s fingers tangled in his hair as their mouth’s clashed, urgent and needy and wet. Pushing her back against the bed, Ryan rose up to straddle her waist.

Somehow, he broke away from her mouth long enough to rip his shirt over his head. Tossing it aside, he found her lips again, sucking the bottom one until she released a little moan.

God, the sounds she made. They were the sweetest candy for his ears.

“But Doc’s not wrong is she?” he breathed against her jaw between kisses. “Our connection is weak.”