And last night?—
Last night changed everything.
The early morning light filters through the windows, casting everything in shades of gray and gold.
Dawn breaking over the estate.
Over the forest where I hunted her down just hours ago.
Over the new reality we're both waking up to.
Eden is curled against me, her body instinctively seeking warmth even in sleep.
One arm thrown across my chest, fingers curled loosely against my ribs.
Her face pressed against my shoulder, breath warm against my skin.
Hair spilled across the pillow like dark silk, tangled from sleep and from what I did to her last night.
She looks peaceful.
Younger than her twenty-three years.
Vulnerable in a way she never allows herself to be when awake, when she's watching me with those wary eyes, calculating her next move.
I should feel guilty.
The thought crosses my mind with clinical detachment.
I should feel something resembling remorse for what I did to her last night.
For breaking her down piece by piece.
For using her own body against her, weaponizing her pleasure.
For making her come so hard she cried, for reducing her to trembling desperation in my arms.
I don't.
I feel satisfied. Triumphant.
Like a man who's finally claimed what's rightfully his after a long, arduous hunt.
Like a predator who's successfully brought down his prey and can finally feast.
She's mine now. Completely. In every way that matters.
Her things were moved to my room while she slept.
I'd given Callum the order before we even got back to the estate.
By the time Eden passed out in my arms, exhausted from emotion and orgasm and the sheer weight of everything that had happened, her guest room was being systematically emptied.
Her clothes now hang in my closet, taking up a section I cleared for her.
Her books sit on my nightstand, stacked neatly beside my own reading.
Her toiletries are in my bathroom.
