Something in her voice breaks through the last of my resistance. My hands tighten on her waist as I kiss her back, pouring everything I feel into it. She makes a soft sound of relief, melting against me.
Her fingers work at my shirt buttons while I push her sweater up, breaking apart only long enough to pull it over her head. She’s wearing a pale pink bra that makes my mouth water.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, pressing kisses to her throat, her collarbone. “My beautiful, brave mate.”
She arches against me, offering more. I take my time, mapping her skin with my mouth, feeling her come alive under my touch. Each gasp, each shiver, replaces a little more of the fear.
“Billy,” she moans when I find a sensitive spot. “Please. I need more.”
I shift us, laying her back on the couch, hovering over her. Her skirt has ridden up, revealing black lace that makes my cock throb. But I force myself to go slow, to make this about her.
“Tell me what you need,” I say against her ear.
“You. Just you.” She fumbles with my belt. “Inside me. Now.”
I help her with my jeans, shoving them down just enough. When I discover how wet she is, we both groan.
“The skirt stays on,” I growl.
She laughs, breathless and beautiful. “Whatever you want.”
I slide her panties aside and sink into her slowly, watching her face. Her eyes flutter closed, lips parting on a sigh of pleasure.
“There,” she breathes. “Oh god, right there.”
I move, slow and deep, savoring every inch of her. She meets me, thrust for thrust, her nails digging into my shoulders. The fear is gone from her eyes, replaced by heat and need and something deeper.
“Look at me,” I command softly.
Her eyes open, locking with mine. The emotion there steals my breath.
“Mine,” I growl.
“Yours.” She agrees, clenching around me. “Always yours.”
The confession triggers something primal in me. I increase my pace, driving deeper, and she cries out in pleasure. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer.
“That’s it.” I encourage. “Let go for me. Let me see you fall apart.”
She does, spectacularly, my name on her lips as she shatters. The sight and feel of her coming undone beneath me pushes me over the edge. I bury myself deep, groaning her name as I follow her over.
We stay joined, catching our breath. I press kisses to her temple, her cheek, anywhere I can reach.
“Better?” I ask.
“Perfect.” She corrects, running her fingers through my hair. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For choosing me over your pride. For walking away from his taunts to take care of me.” She cups my face. “For making me feel safe enough to feel everything else.”
“Always.” I promise. “You come first. Always.”
“He’ll be back,” Carla says quietly in the darkness. “He wants to hurt you. To make you pay for choosing me over the clan.”
“Let him come.” I find her hand in the darkness. “He can’t hurt me with words. And if he tries anything else, I’ll handle it.”
I might not want any trouble, but if I have no choice, I remind Craig that I’m still my father’s son. The strength and power that he admired in my dad lives inside me, and I’ll use it if he forces me to.
