his breath, his hand slowing as his death grip loosened and his dick finally softened to half-mast.
Reason returned as his cum washed away, carried off in the trickling stream that snaked through the cavern floor.
If only he could wipe away his fucked-up reactions so easily.
Crouching down, he wiped himself clean in the spring. He splashed his chest and neck, too, because despite the jerk session and the water, he was already semihard again at the thought of returning to her. If things kept on like this, he’d be jacking off until his dick was raw and chapped.
He splashed more water on himself and conjured up the faces of his worried teammates, Melody’s and Hope’s anguished eyes, the commander’s stern visage.
Then, though he didn’t do it often because it hurt too fucking much, he allowed himself to see the image of bright green eyes so close to his own, a potent reminder of the first female he’d been unable to save.
It wasn’t just about the second-in-command position. Losing control, blurring lines, altering course, could endanger everything he’d fought and clawed to become since his sister’s death. He was ruthless because he got the job done. Because someone needed to be the damn monster who understood the dark and the ugly and was willing to do whatever it took to save the innocents, even if it stained him beyond repair.
He could not desert them now just because one female was confusing the hells out of him.
He cracked his neck one way, then the other. Calmer now. His dick no longer a thick rod against his thigh.
He had to bring those missing females home no matter the cost. To Nayla, or to himself.
It was time to take the next step.
15
“Where we go?” Nayla’s breath came in pants.
Grif had come back, his expression as hard and lethal as when he’d first captured her. None of the earlier gentleness visible anymore.
Without a word, he’d drawn her to standing by her bound wrists, slipped a lead rope around them, unsnapped her ankle restraints, and led her deeper into the tunnel, his long strides forcing her to hurry to keep up.
Was this the end? Had he finally understood that he would get no useful information out of her and now he intended to send her to the Void?
It should not come as a surprise, but it did. Especially since their last exchange had been so…extraordinary. She’d been turning his shocking words over in her mind. The way they made her stomach flutter as taboo and exhilarating as the heat between her thighs.
Now she felt like a fool.
“Where you take me?” With every step, the dark tunnel grew hotter and more humid, water droplets forming on her skin and rolling down her back.
“Anywhere I want.” He sounded so cold and angry. She didn’t understand the change or why the sharpness of the words cut into her chest as if they were actual knives.
They rounded the next bend in the tunnel and their destination appeared.
A natural spring. The source of the churning water she’d heard before. The pinkish color bubbled and swirled, suggesting the water was safe, clean, and hot. Under any other circumstances, she would have rushed in. But not like this. Not with her hands bound.
“N-no.”
Grif raised an eyebrow. “Yes. We both need this before your next session. We need to get clean.”
You need to be cleansed. The memories hit hard.
Rearing back, she dug in her heels. “No.”
His gaze narrowed. “I’m tired of hearing those words from that pretty mouth. If you don’t know how to swim, I’ll hold you.”
You will be held down. She would not go through that terrifying sensation again.
She screamed, a primal sound of pain and rage and betrayal. She flew at him, shoving him over the edge of the pool.
She expected him to let the rope go. Instead, he held on tight, their gazes locked as he toppled, her flare of triumph vanishing as her eyes went wide.
He crashed into the pool.
Dragged by the rope, she followed, wrists first, then her head.
Panic shot through her, the past and present colliding as water bubbles erupted everywhere. She’d failed and now he would hold her down until she passed out.
His nice words meant nothing. In the end, the outcome was the same.
She thrashed. Flailed. Her bound wrists made gaining leverage impossible. The squeezing in her lungs as terrifying as she remembered.
An arm banded around her waist and pulled her upward.
She gasped, wheezing hard as her head broke the surface, water sluicing down her cheeks,