"Not yet." His voice is strained. "You come when I tell you to."
"Callum, please."
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me. Please let me come. Please, I need you, I can't?—"
He starts to move, and I lose the ability to form words.
This is nothing like the other times. This is claiming. Possession. Every thrust brands me as his, marks me from the inside out. The key bounces against my chest with each movement, a constant reminder of what I've agreed to. What I've chosen.
"Look at me." His command cuts through the haze of pleasure. "I want to see your eyes when you fall apart."
I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. The intensity there steals what's left of my breath.
"I love you." He punctuates each word with a deep stroke. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you what that means."
"I love you too." Tears stream down my temples. "I'm yours. I'm completely yours."
"Then come for me, Nadia." He grinds against my clit, hitting that devastating spot inside me at the same time. "Come for me now."
I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me with the force of a revelation. I scream his name, just like he promised, my body convulsing around his as wave after wave crashes over me. He follows a moment later, groaning my name into my throat as he spills himself inside me.
We lie tangled together in the aftermath, sweat-slicked and gasping and utterly wrecked.
"Holy shit," I manage when I remember how to speak.
"Eloquent."
"Shut up. You broke my brain."
He laughs against my shoulder, and the vibration sends aftershocks rippling through my oversensitive body.
"So." He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with a satisfaction that's entirely too smug. "Does this mean you're staying?"
I touch the key resting against my chest. Silver and warm from my skin.
"I'm staying." I pull him down for a kiss that tastes like sweat and joy and the beginning of forever. "I'm staying for as long as you'll have me."
"Then you better get comfortable." His hand covers mine over the key. "Because I'm never letting you go."
For the first time in my life, that promise doesn't make me want to run.
EPILOGUE
CALLUM
ONE YEAR LATER
The Velvet Antler is packed for Valentine's Day.
Every table is full, couples leaning close over candlelit dinners and expensive wine. Silas has outdone himself with the decorations this year, red roses and twinkling lights transforming the rustic space into something almost magical.
I hate it.
Not the decorations, or the crowd, or even the holiday I used to avoid like the plague. I hate that I'm sitting at the bar alone, nursing a whiskey, while my woman is fifteen minutes late.
