She tilts her head back, looking up at me. Her face is flushed, lips parted, eyes dark and uncertain.
"Jason—"
I should step back. Give her space. Let her think clearly without my hands on her and my scent all around her.
I don't.
"Tell me to stop," I say quietly. "If you want me to step back, say it now."
She doesn't. Just stares up at me, something vulnerable and fierce warring in her expression.
So I lower my head and kiss her.
Slow. Giving her every chance to pull away. Her lips are soft, tentative at first, like she's forgotten how this works. Or maybe like she's never been kissed by someone who meant it as a promise instead of a claim.
Then she melts into me, and everything else falls away.
I cup her face with one hand, angling her head to deepen the kiss, and she makes a soft sound. Her hands slide up my chest, around my neck, fingers threading into my hair.
I kiss her like I've been starving for it. Like she's oxygen and I've been drowning. Slow and thorough and reverent, tasting her, learning her, memorizing the way she fits against me.
When I finally pull back, we're both breathing hard. Her eyes are glazed, lips swollen, and she's looking at me like I just rearranged her entire world.
"That—" She stops, swallows. "What was that?"
"That," I say, voice rough, "was me making something clear."
"What?"
"That I want you." Simple. Honest. No room for misunderstanding. "Not just to keep you safe from the storm. I wantyou. And if you stay, it won't be because you have to. It'll be because you choose it."
Her breath catches. "Jason—"
"You don't have to decide now." I brush my thumb across her cheek, gentle despite the possessiveness coiling hot and vicious in my gut. "But I need you to know. So there's no confusion. No wondering."
She stares at me, something like wonder and fear and desire all tangled together in her expression. Then she rises on her toes and kisses me again, harder this time, more certain, like she's testing the weight of her own want.
I let her lead, let her set the pace, even though everything in me is screaming to deepen it, to back her against the wall and showher exactly how much I want her. But this is her choice. Her decision. And I'll be damned if I take it from her.
When she pulls back, she's trembling again. But not from fear this time.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she whispers.
"Neither do I," I admit. "But I know I'm not letting you go back to him. And I know I want you here. With me. For as long as you'll stay."
She searches my face, looking for something. A lie, maybe. A crack in the promise.
She won't find one.
"Okay," she finally says. Barely a whisper. "Okay."
I pull her back against my chest, holding her while the storm rages outside and the fire burns low and the world beyond this cabin fades into irrelevance.
She's warm and soft andmine, and for the first time since I left the ring, I feel like I've got something worth fighting for.
Something worth keeping.
Chapter 5 – Nicola
