Deep Redemption (Hades Hangmen 4)

“Get away from this bed! Now!” he snarled. My skin crawled; Rider sounded just like his twin. Brother Luke scurried to the farthest side of the platform. But I could see him watching from where he had stopped.

“I’m so sorry,” Rider whispered. I looked at his face and saw the regret and sorrow etched onto his every beautiful feature.

“How?” I whispered back. “I do not understand? How are you here?”

Rider shook his head, silently telling me that now was not the time to ask. I had played this role of the prophet’s betrothed for many days. I could do it for a short time more. His eyes closed. The people outside were becoming restless. I subtly moved my hand to lie over his chest, and he opened his eyes.

The pain that shone back at me cut down my heart. “Rider,” I said almost inaudibly. “We must do this. Judah . . . he would not have hesitated.”

He winced. “I know. But . . . ” A shade of scarlet washed over his olive skin.

“What?” I asked, moving my body closer to his, trying to urge him to lie directly above me. Rider’s already shocked eyes widened further, but he moved over me, his naked lower body meeting my own. His pupils grew as our bare skins brushed.

He sucked in a breath, and I lifted my hand to his cheek. “Rider—”

“I don’t know what to do,” he said, cutting me off. Sorrow infused my heart seeing such a formidable man so scared. Rider’s face reddened further, but this time it was in anger. “Harmony,” he rasped. “I’m so fucking sorry. This shouldn’t be happening . . . not like this.”

I almost broke at the sincerity in his voice. As I watched Rider’s face become alive with disgust and uncertainty, with the heavy conflict he felt at taking me right here and right now, I knew I had to take charge.

I had to lead the way.

I slowly moved my legs apart. Rider’s body, hovering over mine, fell into the space between. “Harmony,” he whispered nervously.

“Shh,” I soothed, nodding my head. “We must do this.”

His head turned away. “I feel like a rapist. I feel like I am here, just like my brother would have been, forcing you against your will. It’s not who I am.”

And I knew. I knew then that he was absolutely nothing like his brother. Because he was so incredibly torn over this joining. He felt sick at the thought of forcing himself upon me.

It was exactly why I wanted this.

Why I would welcome it. I had never known such kindness.

“I want it,” I blurted out. Rider froze.

He looked back at me. “You cannot be serious. It’s wrong . . . it’s so fucking wrong.”

Brushing my hand through his long hair, I said, “Although it is not ideal, I am not refusing this. You . . . and me . . . together in this way . . . it will not be by force. Never by force, but instead with open eyes and willing hearts.”

“Harmony,” Rider whispered and leaned down to take my lips with his own. As his kiss engulfed me, I reached my hand down between us and took hold of his manhood. Rider jumped as I nervously took him in my hand, but I did not stop. The people would know something was wrong if he did not act . . . if there was not evidence of our joining on the linen after this was over.

I broke away from the kiss, leaving my lips brushing against his. “I want this, Rider. I could only ever want this with you.”

“Harmony,” he murmured. I placed him at my entrance and urged him inside, my legs on the back of his thighs guiding him forward. And this time Rider did as I asked him to, the fluid Sarai had placed within me helping him enter me with ease.

I tensed my jaw as he filled me, slowly, inch by inch, stretching me wide. My hands reached to hold on to his arms as he filled me so impossibly full. I opened my eyes and met Rider’s gaze.

His cheeks were flushed as he kept pushing forward, his face betraying how he felt—conflicted, yet wrapped up in such incredible pleasure. “Harmony,” he whispered as he pushed all the way in. Rider froze, leaning his head back to close his eyes and simply breathe. And I was struck speechless. Struck speechless at having him above me. He had looked into my eyes. He had his arms braced protectively over my head. He had only unbridled affection and need in his stare. No hatred. No pride.

It made me feel . . . It made me feel.

Until then, I had never felt anything during joinings. I always made myself go elsewhere, dreaming of a world away from the act taking place. But right then, with Rider, I felt it all. I felt the warm breeze slipping through the gauze curtains. I felt Rider’s hot skin brushing against mine, causing me to shiver in pleasure. But most of all I felt every second of this in my soul. I felt happiness in my heart . . . I felt free.