He's so much bigger than me—six-three to my five-six—and standing this close, I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
"You understand what this means?" His voice is rough, barely controlled. "You show up here, you're mine. No more other men. No more smiling at prospects like Ford. No more running."
I lift my chin, refusing to be intimidated even though my heart is racing. "I'm not running."
"No." He reaches out, his fingers grazing my jaw, tilting my face up to his. "You're not. Say it, Grace. Say you're mine."
The words should stick in my throat.
Should feel like giving up control, like being owned the way Bronco thought he owned me.
But they don't.
Because this is different. This is my choice.
"I'm yours," I whisper.
Shadow's eyes go molten. "Damn right you are."
Then he kisses me.
It's not gentle.
It's not soft or tentative or careful.
It's claiming.
His hand fists in my hair, tilting my head to the angle he wants, and his mouth crashes down on mine with a hunger that steals my breath.
His tongue demands entry and I give it, opening for him, letting him take what he wants.
And God, he takes.
He kisses me like he's starving, like he's been waiting years for this moment and now that he has me, he's not holding back.
His other hand grips my hip, pulling me flush against him, and I can feel every hard inch of him pressed against me.
I moan into his mouth, my hands fisting in his cut, trying to pull him closer even though there's no space left between us.
He walks me backward until my back hits the fence, the wood rough against my shoulder blades.
He cages me in, one hand still in my hair, the other sliding down to grip my ass, lifting me slightly so I'm on my toes.
"Been wanting to do this for so goddamn long," he growls against my lips before kissing me again, deeper this time, more demanding.
I'm drowning in him.
In the taste of whiskey and mint on his tongue, in the feeling of his hard body pressing me into the fence, in the way his hand tightens in my hair just shy of being painful.
It should scare me.
After Bronco, any kind of rough touch should send me into a panic.
But it doesn't.
Because this is Shadow.
And Shadow has spent years keeping me safe.
