Page 102 of Endo
“God, Lena,” I rasp, gripping her throat gently, my thumb brushing along her jaw as I pull back just enough to thrust into her again. “That’s it. Fuck, your pussy takes me so well.”
Her head falls back against the rock, her lips parted in a silent cry as her hips move in rhythm with mine. My free hand slides between us, finding her clit and circling it in slow, teasing strokes.
“You feel that?” I murmur, my tone low and rough as I roll my hips, driving deeper into her. “This pussy belongs to me, Lena. All of it—every inch of you, mine. And I’m going to makedamn sure the ocean you love so much knows it. Scream for me, baby. Let it hear who owns you.”
Her cries grow louder, her nails scraping down my back as her body tightens around me. “Reign,” she gasps, her voice desperate.
“Not yet,” I growl, slowing my movements just enough to keep her on the edge. “I’m in control here. You don’t fucking come until I tell you. Got it?”
“Yes,” she breathes, her voice breaking as she clings to me. “Please, Reign. Let me?—”
“Not until I hear you beg,” I cut her off, my grip tightening slightly on her throat as my thumb presses harder against her clit. “Beg for it, Lena. I want to hear how much you need me.”
“Please,” she cries, her voice raw and trembling. “Please, Reign, let me come. I need you. I need this. Please.”
Her desperate plea undoes me. “That’s it, baby,” I murmur, thrusting harder now, my movements relentless. “Come for me. Let go. Show me who you belong to.”
Her scream echoes over the water as her release crashes over her, her body shaking in my arms. The way she tightens around me, the way her nails dig into my shoulders—it pushes me over the edge. I thrust into her one last time, spilling into her with a guttural groan that’s almost animalistic.
For a long moment, the world is nothing but the sound of her breathing, the feel of her in my arms, and the steady rhythm of the waves around us. I press my forehead to hers, brushing her damp hair back as I whisper, “I’m never letting you go, Lena. You’re mine. Always.”
Her blue eyes meet mine, and there’s no hesitation as she replies, her voice soft but steady, “Good. Because I don’t want you to.”
37
LENA
Without You - Ashes Remain
The tasteof salt lingers on my lips, but it’s not the ocean I’m thinking about. It’s him.
The way Reign looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. The way his hands gripped my waist, strong and steady, like he was afraid I might slip away. And the way he whispered my name, raw and possessive, as if it held the power to ground us both.
For the first time in years, I felt alive—not just surviving, but living. Breathing. And for a fleeting moment, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I could be his.
The memory clings to me as we dock the jet skis, the group’s laughter echoing across the water. The sun is starting to dip lower, painting the beach in soft golds and pinks, and everything feels lighter. Easier.
I let out a slow breath, glancing over at Reign as he ties off his jet ski with practiced ease. His hair is still damp, the sun catching on the droplets sliding down his skin, and when he looks at me, that familiar smirk tugs at his lips.
“Good ride?” he asks, his voice casual, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something that tells me he’s thinking about the cove, too.
I nod, a smile pulling at my lips. “Yeah. Really good.”
And for the first time in what feels like forever, I mean it.
The gang gathers their gear, bantering as they head toward the trail that leads back to the beach house. Cece is already halfway through an argument with Wolfe about jet ski techniques—or lack thereof—and Revel is laughing as he eggs her on.
“You wish you had my skills, Wolfe!” Cece shouts, tossing her hair over her shoulder with flair.
“Skills? Is that what you call nearly flipping into the water every five seconds?” Wolfe retorts, smirking.
“It’s called flair,cariño,” Cece shoots back, narrowing her eyes. “Something you wouldn’t understand.”
Revel snickers, falling in step beside her. “Flair, huh? I don’t think flair involves almost eating shit, Cece.”
“Keep talking, Revel. You’ll be eating my wake next time,” Cece fires back, her eyes narrowing in challenge, hands on her hips like she’s daring him to say something stupid.
Revel doesn’t miss a beat, leaning in just enough to make it personal. “Oh, I’ll be eating something, alright,” he drawls, his tone dripping with smug innuendo. “But it sure as hell won’t be your wake,mami.”
