Her words echo in my mind, over and over. How long did I wait to hear anything close to this? How many nights wasted wondering if she’s got some other fool toying with her behind everyone’s backs, just to scratch that itch for a thrill?
Too many, that’s for sure.
But now she’s standing in front of me, cheeks flushed and eyes just crinkled at the corners, gazing at me like there’s no one else in this world. And damn if that look doesn’t slice through every wall I’ve put up, tearing down every bit of bravado I’ve ever worn like armor. I’m standing here bare, and she doesn’t even have to lift a finger to do it.
“Care to act on it, then?” I murmur, feeling that familiar heat kick through me. Just the thought of having her naked beneath me makes me rigid. We’ve had sex many times, yet I know it’ll never be enough. Every time we’re through, I’m only left craving the next.
And this time? It’s different. It’s not just two people filling the empty spaces in the dead of night. This time, it’s real.
“Fuck, yes.. Just… stop looking at me like that,” she breathes out, voice breaking just slightly. My heart stutters—Gypsy Flint, the toughest, most ruthless woman I know, is feeling shy?
“Like what?” I ask, letting a smile pull at my mouth.
Her gaze drops, her voice a whisper. “Like I’m something… precious.” She says it like the word leaves a bad taste on her tongue. “It makes me feel powerless.”
Powerless? She’s got all of me in her hands, and she doesn’t even see it. I’d throw myself to the depths for her, dance with the devil himself if she asked me to. She doesn’t know it, but she’s got every bit of power over me she’ll ever need.
Still, I understand. Vulnerability doesn’t come easy—not for her, not for me. When you live by the sword, you build walls thick as a ship’s hull. And this? This is as dangerous as any fight I’ve ever walked into, because it’s not bullets or blades cutting deep. It’s her touch, her damn gaze.
I lift her chin, coaxing her to look at me, baring enough to let her see we’re both in this, stripped bare together.
“I can’t help it, love,” I tell her, voice rough. She hesitates, then lets out a shaky laugh, fingers resting against my chest.
“Should I make you regret it, then?” she murmurs, a challenge in her eyes.
I smirk, leaning in. “You can try.”
She traces her fingers up my chest, and I catch the faintest tremor in her hands.
“Only try?” she asks. “Think I won’t succeed?”
“I know you won’t,” I murmur, dropping my tone low. “Because you already own every damn piece of me.” It’s as close to a confession as she’ll get from me.
Love? Hell, I don’t even know what that is. When Silverbeard asked if I love her, I couldn’t answer. But I’d walk into fire for her without a second thought, no regrets. That’s all I need to know.
“Fuck, you’re not making this easy for me,” she mutters, pressing against my chest, her touch sparking through me.
But her eyes tell a different story. I’ve waited lifetimes for her to look at me like that—like we could burn the world to cinders and laugh in the ashes, as long as we’re together. She wants to be here with me. I can see it.
“How about you command me, then?” My words slide out, casual as you please, though my pulse thunders against my ribs. “All you’ve got to do is tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”
I’ve never been the kind of man to kneel, not even to her. I’m Zayan Cagney—the one Roche trusted to lead, the one no one could touch. That’s always been my armor, the power I’d never let slip. Even back when she and I were barely more than secrets in the dark, it mattered how she saw me. Who I was to her.
But now? Hell, I’d let go of every scrap of pride just to keep this going. To keep her close.
“Oh?” she murmurs. “I give the orders, and you’ll fall in line, Zayan?”
I smirk deeper. “You’re the captain here, remember? I’m just here to obey… every single command you’ve got in mind. Unless, of course, you’d rather I disobey.”
I see it then—the shift in her eyes, the flicker of that old fire coming back. Her embarrassment fades, and there she is—unfiltered, fierce, raw.
And hell if that doesn’t make me shudder.
Her fingers brush along my jaw, tracing a path that’s pure heat, and I lean into her touch, hungry for more.
“Funny,” she purrs, her thumb dragging slow across my bottom lip. “I seem to remember you aren’t one for following orders.”
God, I want to catch that thumb between my teeth, drag her in close until every word I haven’t said spills out in the heat between us. But I don’t. Tension pulls tighter, hotter, coils deep. Her fingers graze lower, slipping under my collar, tugging me in like she’s testing the leash.
