Page 38 of Pain

Perfect.

Fuck, I was in trouble.

“Saraya,” he groaned. “Oh my... fuck it.”

And then he started moving, and I buried my face in his neck and smiled to myself.

Because if the tone of his voice was anything to go by, then I wasn’t the only one in trouble here.

We were in exactly the same boat.

CHAPTER 17

KNIGHT

I woke from the deepest sleep I thought I’d ever had, and instinctively turned to curl around the tiny girl at my side. We’d been up for much of the night, exploring each other and talking, and then having sex again, and by the time I finally fell asleep, I felt as if I’d found the girl I’d been searching for my entire life.

Of course now, in the gray light of dawn and without the darkness surrounding us, that sounded ridiculous. There was no way to know whether any of it had even meant anything. We’d both been drunk on lust and darkness, and I’d had the additional aspect of having brought all of my men home alive. Something about coming through a gunfight alive, and bringing my men home with me, always made me feel high in a way I didn’t think any drug could compete with.

So on my side, I was thinking the mood could have had more to do with those things than Saraya herself.

And there was no telling what she thought of it. Sure, she’d seemed like she was into it, had even seemed like it had affected her deeply, but she could have been acting. She could have been lying when she told me that she felt like coming to me was coming home. It could all be a story she was telling herself to get through it. A story she was telling me to try to keep me happy.

For all I knew, she’d slept with me just because I’d saved her life and she thought she owed it to me. It could have been purely transactional. A payment for services offered.

The thought made my lip curl and my soul cringe. I’d never wanted any payment from her, and I would never, ever accept sex as payment for anything.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t use it, if it was the only thing she had to offer. Saraya Post was a clever, resourceful girl who’d been around motorcycle clubs for years. She knew what I’d risked to help her, and she’d never asked why I’d done it, in so many words. So she couldn’t possibly know that I’d done it because I’d been disgusted at what Devil and his guys had done to her. She had no way of knowing that this was a moral issue for me.

Not something I’d done expecting payment.

Still...

I turned my head and looked at the girl, all dark, messy curls and rounded cheeks, and let myself just feel her. I didn’t know her well, true, but I’d seen what she did in the last several days. I’d watched her befriend Mandy, who hadn’t wanted anything to do with her, and I’d seen her step up to help Mandy take care of Gemini when he was hurt.

A man who’d forced a vote about sending her home and would have gladly handed her over to Devil if it had been up to him. I knew she knew that—she’d been in the room next door when we were arguing and had to have heard. And she’d still dropped to her knees and assisted Mandy when it came to saving his life.

So now I didn’t know her well. But I’d seen her do that, and I thought it said a whole lot more about who she actually was than the rumors and innuendo that had always surrounded her.

I didn’t think she was the sort of person who would count on sex as a form of payment.

But that didn’t mean the sex had meant anything to her. Because it might be thanks rather than payment. It might be the action of a relieved girl who was finally feeling safe.

It might not have mattered that it was with me or how I felt about it. She damn sure hadn’t asked what my motivations were.

The thing was, it felt like it was real. When she’d gasped my name, it hadn’t sounded fake or forced. And when she pulled me to her again and again, her body moving in rhythm with mine and taking all of me, it hadn’t felt like she was just thankful.

It had felt like she’d wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I just didn’t have any way of knowing.

A knock on the door interrupted my ruminations, and I slipped out of bed, trying not to wake Saraya. I failed, of course, and I wasn’t surprised by that. Any girl who’d been prey to Devil’s fists had probably learned to sleep lightly and wake up quickly, just to protect herself. I pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Stay,” I whispered. “I’ll see who’s at the door.”

She nodded and reached to pull the blankets up around her, covering her naked body, and for a moment I just wanted to climb back into bed and take her again.

Another knock, this time harder, reminded me that I had responsibilities to the real world, though.