My chest tightens. No one has ever said those words to me. Not my mother, not my brothers, and certainly not my father. Love was never something I thought I’d have or deserve.
“Saint…”
“You don’t have to say it back.” She presses a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. “I just needed you to know. Before tomorrow. Before whatever happens with your father. I needed you to know that this is real for me. That you’re real for me.”
I tip her chin up so I can see her face. Those dark blue eyes look up at me with trust and love.
“I love you too,” I say, and the words feel like breathing for the first time in my life. “I’ve loved you since you bit me in your father’s house. Since you fought me in the cabin. Since you refused to break even when everything in your world tried it’s damnedest. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I love you for it.”
Tears slip down her cheeks, but she’s smiling. “Really?”
“Really.” I kiss her gently, tasting salt. “And tomorrow, when all this is over, when my father can’t touch us anymore, I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
She kisses me back, deeper this time, and I feel her body responding again. My own follows suit, already hardening.
“Again?” she asks with a small smile.
“If you want.” I roll her onto her back. “You said you wanted all of me. I’m giving you all of me.”
“Then take your time.” She spreads her legs wider. “We have all night.”
So I do.
I make love to her slowly this time. Learning every sound she makes, every place that makes her gasp or moan or cry out. Iworship her body with my hands and mouth and cock until she’s shaking and begging.
When I finally push inside her again, it’s easier. Her body accepts me without resistance. The tightness is still there, still incredible, but now there’s only pleasure in her expression.
I move with long, slow strokes, watching her face as pleasure builds. Her eyes go dark and unfocused.
“I love the way you feel,” I tell her. “The way you take me. The way your body was made for mine.”
“Calder.” Her hands slide down my back. “Harder. Please.”
I give her what she needs, pounding into her with steady, powerful thrusts. She wraps her legs around my waist, changing the angle, and suddenly I’m hitting something that makes her scream.
“There,” she gasps. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
I don’t stop. I fuck her hard and deep, hitting that spot with every thrust.
“Come for me,” I command.
She comes with my name on her lips, her body clenching around me. I thrust into her twice more, then let go. I empty myself inside her again.
“Mine,” I growl.
“Yours,” she gasps.
We collapse together, sweaty and tangled in the sheets. I pull her close.
“Tomorrow,” she says sleepily. “Tell me again what happens tomorrow.”
I’ve been dreading this conversation. But she deserves the truth.
“Tomorrow, we go to dinner and pretend everything is normal. Once Roman says something the FBI can use, they’ll sweep in and grab him,” I say quietly. “I think we can trust them.There’s a Porter cousin or some shit who is the agent I’ve been coordinating with. She knows how close the two of you are.”
It occurs to me I’ve been so brainwashed by Bishop propaganda I should feel guilty about this…serving my father to the wolves. But I don’t because if even a tendril of guilt crawls in my gut, I remember Saint’s silent scream in that barn, and I squash that guilt under my boot.
She’s quiet for a long moment. “You’re risking everything.”
