The Hellhound (Riders of Tyr #2 - MC Romance)

36. Night Confessions

"Ryan. Oh, Rage. That man..." she can't finish.

I turn to her slowly, acknowledging she is there. I am exhausted, shattered, drained. My eyelids blink slowly.

"My father. Same blue eyes, same blonde hair. He is still in here," I hit my head. "It's in my blood. I was born bad. "That's my boy.". Like one says to a dog. A hound. The Hound from Hell. That is who I am."

"This is not who you are," she caresses my face as tears ruin her cheeks. "I know who you are. You are the man that kept me safe. The one that came for me. The one that freed me from fear. You are the one that tended me, healed me in and out. You are my Rage. My love. I don't care who you were before. All I care is that we are now here, together. We have each other."

Tears trickle down my cheeks and I have no power to stop them. I am reduced to a bundle of nerves. Iris moves and cradles my head and my eyes close. She is so warm, so real. She is here, still here, by me.

"Thank you," she leaves a kiss on my forehead. "Thank you for letting me in. No one should ever endure what you have."

"Bad."

"No!" she tightens her grip and forces me to look up to her. "It's not your fault. None of it was your fault. You hear me? Not your fault."

It is as if my soul smiled upon these words. Relieved. Could that be true? Could I be free? Free for the Hellhound?

"I am here. I will never leave. Never. Yours."

"Yours," I surrender completely to her.

She rocks slightly in a soothing way and I drift away in a deep sleep. Iris is here. She will keep the Hellhound away.

"Ryan," I hear a soft voice.

For a moment the crazy idea that all my life was a bad dream and it's Mum calling me. But then I think that means that I have never met Iris and a slice of pain forces me to open my eyes.

"Hungry?" Iris smiles at me.

I have told her all the darkness in my head, the shitty things that scratch the walls from the inside and she is still here. Maybe I am still sleeping. I nod.

"Well, I have prepared breakfast."

I sit up and there is a breakfast set on a blanket on the floor.

"Indoors picnic," she shrugs.

I don't even let my mind take over. I wrap my arm around her and pull her to me. I kiss her, rolling her under my body. I relish the thought that she didn't go out screaming, eager to put distance between us. My Iris.

I keep caressing her lips with mine but soon the kiss turns deeper, unfathomable, more. And when Iris moans in my mouth, her fingers treading needlingly on my skin, I can't hold back. I caress her thigh up her waist and I nest between her legs, letting her now how I feel with her close.

"Iris?" I need her to tell me I am not doing anything bad.

"Yours," she whispers in my ear.

I drive myself inside her with lazy moves, cherishing the moment, replenishing my damned soul in her arms. My Iris, the hunter of nightmares. I search her mouth and I kiss her with fervor, sipping on her plump lips. Mine. Her core is drenched and I bite my jaw down knowing this means she like this. She likes me being in her, me over her, me making love to her. I roll my hips and hold her eyes in mine.

I keep my pace, trying to go on forever if possible. But when she sighs quivering, pulling me to her, I reach my limit and I hook her leg over my waist to feel her more. And I do. I feel her all around me, in me. The tinging feeling comes over me, gathers at the base of my spine. And when Iris cries out and rides her orgasm, I can't hold back. I come inside her with one thrust. Hers.