Sliding up his torso, I placed a kiss on his sinfully full lips, a kiss that soon turned hot and dirty. We devoured each other, our teeth clashing as our tongues stroked together, imitating the way we were rubbing our bodies in a sinful rhythm. I was overwhelmed by an intense arousal, mixed with some frantic emotion I couldn't name, as I reached between us and stroked his hard length. My pussy throbbed with my need for him to be inside me, my flesh swollen and wet. As our desire built, so did my aggression until I had Smoke pressed against me tight enough that it was a little hard to breathe. He kissed his way from my jaw to my neck, murmuring to me how much he loved me, how much I meant to him, and how proud he was of me.

And thankful, so very thankful.

Warmth blossomed in my chest like a flower opening, and I told him how much I loved him, how much he meant to me, and how scared I'd been. But mostly, I tried to make him understand what he did to me, how I couldn't imagine how I survived before him, and I begged him to never leave me.

His lips returned to mine and he fisted my wet hair, pulling me back enough that he could look into my eyes. "I've been through some terrible shit in my life, done some horrible things, but I'd do it all over again because at the end is you, my reward, my blessing. Baby girl, you own me-wretched heart and wicked soul."

I placed my fingertips against his lips. "You do not have a wicked soul. I wouldn't be able to love an evil man."

He gripped my wrist and held my hand to his chest over his heart. "This beats for you. When...when I thought I wouldn't make it in time, I swear I felt like I died. You're my life now, and I promise I'll do a better job protecting you. I'm so fuckin' sorry I failed you."

The way his voice broke on those last words, the guilt saturating his voice, made me angry. "You. Were. Not. Responsible. Do you hear me?"

"I should-"

Slapping my hand none too gently against his mouth I growled out. "Stop. Just stop that fucking bullshit right now. I'm not some delicate princess waiting for Prince Charming to come rescue her. Just because I have a pussy doesn't mean I'm weak. It doesn't mean I can't take care of myself. I did what I've been trained to do. It fucking sucked, and I was scared out of my mind, but I don't regret what I did. I don't regret those men's deaths, nor do I blame you."

He closed his eyes and lifted me up until my arms were wrapped around his neck and my legs were around his waist. I was slick and slippery from the water, but he managed to keep his grip on me, his fingers digging into my ass, while I licked the drops of water from his neck and he carried me out of the bathroom then into the bedroom. I bit him gently over his throbbing pulse and tasted his skin. That elicited a delicious growl from Smoke, and I sank my nails into his shoulders, holding on while he laid me on the bed, following me onto the thick comforter and surrounding me with his presence.

A feeling of being safe and protected enveloped me, and as we kissed, tears burned my eyes. The reality of how close I'd come to dying made me frantic for more, for him to be a part of me in an undeniable way that proved we were alive. My arm ached as the anesthetic Frame had used began to wear off, but the pleasure of Smoke's touch was overwhelming. He shifted his attention to my breasts and gathered one in his large hand, squeezing gently while his thumb played with my nipple.

"So pretty. Love the way your nipples get so hard for me, how they press against your shirt when you look at me with those big, blue, fuck-me eyes."

The more he touched me, the more I needed him, until I was writhing beneath him, the urge to fuck became overwhelming. His musk, mixed with mine scented the air with a unique combination that was us, and filled me with a sense of satisfaction that this magnificent man belonged to me and only me. I believed him when he said he loved me, when he said we were going to be together for the rest of our lives, and I believed him when he said he was made for me, because it was the absolute truth.

If I was his blessing, he was my gift.

One of his hands slipped between us and stroked the slippery entrance of my sex, a low growl vibrating against my nipple that seemed to be connected to my clit. Each draw felt like a pull on that little bundle of nerves, and I ground myself against his fingers, shameless in my need for the life-affirming pleasure that only he could give me. His thumb began to rub little circles on my nub, and I panted out his name, straining for my orgasm.

Beyond shame at this point, I pleaded with him in a strained voice, "Miguel, please, let me come."

He shivered and I groaned, arching into him, loving how deeply it affected him when I said his name. "Baby girl, who do you belong to?"

"You, always you."

"Come for me."

He slipped a deliciously thick finger into my empty sex and my inner muscles clamped down him. I swear my heart skipped a beat, and I exploded in ecstasy as an intense climax raced through me. I became aware of the blood rushing through my veins, the joy of being alive and how precious every second was. Smoke continued to gently rub my clit until I was trying to push him away, overwhelmed by his touch on my sensitive flesh. Little aftershocks of gratification stole my remaining senses, and I made small mews of pleasure as I twitched beneath his heavy bulk.

His warmth left me, and I reached out for him, begging him to come back to me but unable to say the words. Delicious, gentle waves of desire still moved through me, and when he ran his hands down my waist and groaned, all I could do was smile. His love for me was evident in his touch, and I drank down every drop of his affection as it chased back the lingering shadows of fear and panic trying to invade my mind.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he whispered. My hips jerked when he ran the thick head of his cock against my sensitive clit, teasing me.

I struggled to open my eyes, and when I did, I was greeted with the pussy clenching sight of a naked Smoke next to me staring down at where he was rubbing the crest of his dick against my stiff clit. His muscles stood out in stark relief, and I wished for an ounce of artistic talent to preserve that image because he was so damn beautiful. From the dark disks of his nipples to the sharp V leading to his groin, he was perfection, and I wondered if the sight of him would ever grow old. Using my good arm, I caught one of his hands in my own and lifted it to my lips, placing gentle kisses on his bruised knuckles. He looked up at me, and the warmth in his gaze made my whole body buzz as hormones flooded my system.

The mood between us changed when he moved over me, and my back arched to meet him as he slowly entered and filled me. The slight pressure of my body accommodating his thick girth made my toes curl, and I couldn't help the moan that escaped me. He felt so damn good, and my pussy contracted then released with each gentle push of his hips. I swear his steel-hard cock throbbed deep inside of me, and my skin tingled everywhere he touched me.

"Swan, look at me."

I hadn't even realized I'd closed my eyes, but when I opened them I found myself drowning in the warm, brown velvet of his eyes. He cupped my face and watched my expression as he pulled out, my pussy gripping him in an effort to keep him inside of me. He pushed back in with a fluid roll of his hips. Holy shit, my man could move his body in ways that destroyed me. Our eyes held while he made love to me, building my orgasm while I watched so many emotions race through his gaze. At this moment, I felt as if we were one person and submitted to him fully, allowing him into my soul, like he was in my body. Our breathing sped up, and soon, I was lifting my hips to his. A high-pitched sound of pleasure escaped me when he ground his pelvis against mine, his thick cock splitting me wide with each thrust.

He sat back on his heels, still not looking away from my eyes, and lifted one of my legs so that it laid across his chest with my toes pointing up at the ceiling. This allowed him to move deeper in me until each building thrust made him bottom out inside of me. I felt owned in every sense of the word and reveled in his adoration. I treasured it, valued how he took complete control of our lovemaking in order to bring both of us the most pleasure possible. As if his physical prowess wasn't enough, the way his gaze captured mine sent me racing to the edge of my release.

"Damn, you feel so good. Hot little cunt wrapped around me. Hold on, baby, don't come yet."

I gritted my teeth, trying to hold back as he did this thing with his hips and hit a spot inside of me that made me grip the sheets as hard as I could.

"Can't...please...too much."

"Do not fucking come," he snarled in a way that only turned me on even more.

He seemed to be impossibly hard inside of me, as if his cock were made of granite, and I rhythmically squeezed my inner muscles around him, determined to make him climax.

"Fuck, fuck, that tight pussy is gonna suck the come out of me."

"Give it to me." I whispered in a voice so sultry I surprised myself.

My focus turned from my own climax to his, and I pulled him down to me and kissed him with all the passion he built inside of me.

His tongue rubbed against mine as we became lost in each other, our sweat-slick bodies moving together. This position rubbed my clit, and I whimpered into his mouth. The effort of holding back made me shake. He began to slam into me, and I tore my mouth from his, my body strung tight and lights flashing behind my eyelids.

"Gonna fill you up," he growled.

"Miguel!"

"Shit," he hissed. "Now."

Burying himself as deep as he could our lips met again, and I exploded around him.

I swear our bodies were so synched together that my sex pulsed in time with his release. There was no beginning or end to us. We were one in every way possible. Tears raced down my cheeks as I climaxed hard enough that I simply lost myself in him. He groaned and cried out with his face pressed against my neck, his hips jerking against me, pressing deeper into me as I wrapped myself around him. I buried my hands in his hair, while clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me on this earth.

For some unexplainable reason, I couldn't stop the tears, and he hushed me gently, stroking me and cuddling me while he was still inside of me. Smoke said all the nonsense words that people say to each other at times like these, but when he said it was going to be all right, I believed him. When my sobs finally subsided, he pulled out of me and rose from the bed. I shivered at the absence of his warmth and realized for the first time that the sheets beneath us were damp from our shower and my hair was probably a tangled mess.

Smoke came out of the bathroom, gloriously naked and confident. I must have looked a sight because he gave me a small smile and shook his head. He went to the closet and pulled out some clean linens from the top shelf. When I rolled off the bed and stood on unsteady legs he watched me carefully.

"You okay?"

My lower lip trembled, but I managed a small, brittle smile. "I am. I just need to clean up."

He nodded, his gaze never leaving me as I shuffled into the bathroom. At the sight of myself in the mirror, I let out a low groan. I was officially a hot mess. The first thing I did was clean myself up and then tried to brush my hair out as best I could using only one arm. I winced when I pulled at the tender roots where I'd bumped my head. After a careful exploration of the goose egg on my head, I splashed cold water on my face and brushed my teeth.

During all of this I avoided looking into my own eyes. When I finally did, I wasn't surprised by the haunted look there. I didn't feel guilt over ending those men's lives-it was a kill or be killed situation-but I couldn't help thinking of the families they'd left behind and the people who would suffer because of their loss. I began to imagine these faceless people grieving, and I had to give myself a mental shake to snap out of it. If this misplaced guilt was something my father felt after he killed someone, I could understand why he was a little bit crazy.

There was a soft knock on the door. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Be out in a sec."

I took some deep breaths to calm myself and gathered my thoughts.

When I came out of the bathroom Smoke was waiting, dressed in a pair of black boxer briefs. He held a green and blue, super soft robe that must have been in with the clothing his sister bought for me. He helped me into the robe, leaving my injured arm uncovered with the sleeve draped on my shoulder.

"Come on, baby, let's change your bandage."

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my whole body hurting now that my post orgasm bliss had faded. We didn't say anything while he changed my bandages, but he kissed all around my stitches, as though his lips could heal me. I ran my fingers through his damp curls, taking comfort in his soothing touch. After tending to me, Smoke helped me take the robe off and put on a pair of comfortable, silky green pajama pants and a thick black tank top. A knock at the door startled me while he was sliding thick socks on my feet, and I was hovering on the edge of grabbing the Uzi stashed beneath the bed.

"Yo, Smoke. Got your grub."

My man must have noticed that I was starting to freak out, because he kissed my cheek and ran a comforting hand down my neck.

"Easy. It's just Hulk with some food."

The big black man came in carrying a tray with sandwiches and a big bowl of soup. A delicious smell wafted up from the food and my stomach growled. I was too tired to do much more than nod at Hulk, and the sympathy in his gaze made my throat tighten.

"Hi, sugar." Hulk spoke in a gentle voice as his pale green eyes studied me carefully.

As fragile as I felt at the moment, I didn't say anything as I nodded then turned my attention to the soup.

While Hulk and Smoke talked in lowered voices, I listlessly picked up the bowl of what smelled like chicken soup and began to eat it. The warmth of the broth slid down my throat, and I relaxed marginally. I didn't really taste the food, but I did begin to feel better. By the time I finished half of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Hulk had left and Smoke knelt before me. He stroked my cheek, then handed me two pills.

"Take these."

I didn't argue-I didn't have the strength to fight with him-and dutifully took the pills, washing them down with a gulp of milk.

"Want any more?"

I shook my head, laid down on my good side, and watched Smoke devour the rest of my meal. He turned the lights down until the room was only illuminated by a soft, dim light on the dresser. He joined me on the bed, tucked us in, and turned on his side so he could face me. He was close enough that I could feel his breath. We stared at each other-no words were needed-while he gently stroked me beneath the blanket.

"I feel bad for killing those men," I whispered, hoping he didn't think me weak, hoping he wouldn't yell at me like my father would for being a coward.

"Why? Those fuckers were trying to kill you and Breaker. You did the world a favor by taking out that garbage."

"I don't feel bad for killing them, but I feel bad for their families."

"Swan, they were responsible for their actions. It was their choices that led to their deaths, not yours. I promise you, those men were all criminals, demons in human form."

Intellectually I knew this, but it still bothered me. "Okay."

"Get those fuckin' thoughts out of your head." His grip on my hip tightened. "I haven't been in your same exact situation, but I have been where you are mentally right now, and you can't let it fuck with you."

My lower lip trembled, but I swallowed hard, determined not to cry. "How do you deal with it?"

"By living my life. I'm not saying I don't think about some of the shit I've done, or that it doesn't bug me, but life goes on. Here in the States we aren't used to violence. We're spoiled by our safety, but I've been in parts of the world where it's kill or be killed, and my enemy wouldn't give my death a second thought. I can tell you it helps to talk about it, and over time, it will fade. I will always, always be here for you for anything, including dealing with this. And I know your dad and Mimi are the same way."

"But the families..."

"Stop. If you think like that, it'll drive you insane."

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but he silenced me with a kiss that was as delicate as butterfly wings. I gave myself over to him, letting him pet and cuddle me until the last of my negative thoughts drained away, and I drifted in his arms, absorbing his love, and letting it heal my heart.

Chapter Thirteen.

The sunlight streaming through the barred window warmed my skin as I sat across from Khan at his massive desk and fought the urge to gut-punch Smoke.

With fire in his gaze and his lip curling back in a silent snarl, Smoke glared at Khan. "No fucking way."

Equally pissed, Khan snapped back. "We don't have a choice."

"No. I forbid it."

I cleared my throat, trying to get Smoke's attention while being mindful of playing the part of his dutiful old lady. "Smoke, I can do this."

It was like I wasn't even there. Neither man stopped trying to stare down the other. Hulk stood against the wall in the corner, and I looked to him for help, but his attention was entirely focused on his President. His freshly shaved head gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight, and he was armed to the teeth. There was a savage, angry look on his face I'd never seen before, and I hated the heavy the atmosphere in this room. I felt as if I was choking on testosterone.

I hadn't woken up to do anything other than pee, drink water, and stumble back to bed until sometime after noon. The pain pills I'd been given kept me in a deep, healing sleep. My arm was looking a lot better, and while it still ached, I was able to take a lower dose of pain meds this morning in an effort to keep my wits about me. The food and lots of milk had helped, and I actually felt almost human...ish. The pills had mellowed me out enough that I'd been able to bite my tongue-so far-as they'd discussed what had happened while I slept, but now, I was just about done playing the meek, obedient old lady.

Especially when I learned that Sarah had been spotted in town again, but managed to ditch the club member who tried to follow her...after he saw her coming out of a local free clinic looking, in his words, 'worn down and sick'. My worry for her had reached epic proportions, and I was frantic to find her. Just the thought of her suffering and alone hurt deep inside my heart.

The big muscles of Smoke's biceps clenched as he crossed his arms. "She is not coming to the party tonight!"

Khan's expression closed down, but the muscles of his neck tensed. Shit, the men were about to get pigheaded with each other. "Swan is our best bet to get the traitor or traitors to show themselves. With everyone who'll be here for Brown's patching-in, it'll be the perfect opportunity for someone to try to snatch her. We need to tempt them into doing it. She'll never be in any real danger. You're in charge of her safety at all times. She'll never leave your side."

A shiver raced through me as Smoke slowly stood up and put his fists on the table. He reminded me of a silverback gorilla as he gave Khan a deadly look. "No."

Hulk shifted behind me, a concerned look tightening his full lips. "Smoke..."

"I said no." He didn't yell. He didn't even raise his voice, but the level of determination in his tone was clear to everyone in the room.

When Khan stood and placed his fists on the desk, his position mirroring Smoke's, I sensed shit was about to go downhill fast.

Kicking my man's leg I muttered, "Smoke-"

"Shut it, Swan, now is not the fuckin' time."

I knew he was scared, maybe even terrified, for me, that he wasn't thinking clearly, but I agreed with Khan. I needed to be there tonight. I needed to end this, and we weren't any closer to finding my mom or sister than when I'd first arrived. If he thought I was the kind of woman content to sit home and knit hats while he was out having fun, he was out of his mind. We were partners, equals, and equals didn't tell each other to 'shut it' about major, life-changing decisions.

Besides, Smoke was being a dick.

I pulled out one of my knives and slammed it into the table between the two of them hard enough to embed the first few inches into the wood. That made them shut up and look at me. I glared at both of them. I would be calm. I would be rational. I would let them know how things were going to go in a non-antagonistic way. At least that was my intention. "Smoke, I love you to death, but this isn't your decision to make. I'm going tonight, and you can either help me or you can get the fuck out of my way. This shit needs to end, and I'll make it happen with or without your help."

"You are not! Sit your ass down!" He actually yelled at me.