Page 35 of Elite Metal: Warriors

She took it all. Welcomed it. Wanted it. Begged for more. Begged.

She was perfect.

He was lost.

He glared at the oven, where the supreme pizza baked. His disgruntlement didn’t stem from his displeasure with her, with what they’d shared. Quite the opposite in fact. But it ate at him that she was embroiled in this mess with Morrow. It ate at him that she wasn’t safe.

And she wasn’t his.

Not really.

Not yet.

When the pizza was done, he cut it and plated it and, leaving it on the table, he went back into the bedroom. He stopped as his gaze lit on her. There, lying on his bed, arms over her head, eyes closed, a blissful smile on her face. And it hit him again, hard and deep.

He wasn’t sure what this emotion was, but it felt like need.

Need to have her, hold her, protect her.

Her lashes fluttered open as he sat on the bed by her side. She gazed up at him in silence. Her expression made something coil in his gut.

Gently, he smoothed a curl from her cheek. Tucked it behind her ear. “How are you doing?” he asked.

Her response was a smile. One that lanced him to the core. He had to kiss her, but he did so on her brow so he would not be tempted to reach for more. He had worked her, and worked her hard, tonight. She needed to recuperate. Hence the pizza.

“Hungry?”

She nodded and he released one hand—kissing her wrist—and then the other. He helped her sit, although she probably didn’t need the help. But he needed it. The touch. The connection. The reassurance.

He helped her dress too—because it pleased him—slipping her sweet body into his robe. It was far too large for her, but he liked seeing her in it. It was probably a foolish fancy, but he imagined it as something of a brand of ownership. A claim.

He’d like to see her always wearing something of his.

They made their way into the kitchen without a word, and he pulled out her chair for her. She flicked a hooded look at him as she sat. Hooded, yes, but he read it. He read her. Without asking, he got her a beer and one for himself as well and then slid the plate toward her.

For someone who didn’t like pizza, she sure could wolf it down. She ate her half and then part of his, but he didn’t complain. She needed to fuel. There was still the rest of the night stretching before them. The thought made him smile.

When the pizza had been demolished and the beer bottles were empty, he led her into the living room and sat on the sofa, pulling her onto his lap. He loved the way she felt in his arms as he cradled her. She nestled against him, wrapping her arms around him. He pressed his lips to her brow.

Though their meal had been silent, a conversation without words, they needed to talk now.

“So…” he began, and then his thoughts stalled because she kissed his chin.

She shot him a smile. He was pleased that it was filled with mischief. He was pleased that their play had not stifled her spirit. “So?” she asked.

“Did you…enjoy that?”

She made a noise that sounded like a snort. “Couldn’t you tell?”

Why he suddenly felt so uncertain, he didn’t know. He was not an uncertain kind of guy. “It seemed so, but I need to hear it from you.”

She framed his face in her hands. Stared into his eyes. “I did. I did enjoy it. That was…” She shook her head, as though words escaped her.

“I had the sense you’ve…never done this before?” He had to ask. Had to be sure. If they were to continue, he needed to know how far, how fast, he could take her.

She tucked her face into the crook of his neck. He allowed it, because he sensed she needed to shield herself, at least a little. “I’ve wanted to. But couldn’t.” He didn’t ask why. He knew she would tell him…eventually. “But it’s something I’ve fantasized about. Craved.” She drew a hand over his chest. “A big, strong, dominant man…”

He caught her wrist. As much as he loved her touch, he couldn’t allow himself to be incited to more. Not yet. In an attempt to placate her, he kissed her palm. “We do seem…well matched.”