“I love you,” I confess. “I love you, Dane.”
His eyes flash, and his jaw goes slack with something like wonder.
Then he gnashes his teeth, and his handsome face contorts into something almost feral. He slams into me, lighting up my body with pleasure and sweet pain.
“Mine!” he snarls, his voice inhuman.
My heart swells. It’s more than enough for me. He doesn’t have to say the same words back to me. I can feel the depth of his affection for me in the rough thrusts of his cock and the bruising bite of his hands on my arms. He pins me beneath him and ravages me, fucking me in a frenzy.
I meet each of his harsh thrusts, showing him how much I want him, how I accept everything that he is. And how I willingly give all of myself in return.
We reach our peak together, our ecstatic shouts a violent crescendo to our vicious lovemaking.
He stays inside me even as he softens, and I keep him locked there with my legs around his waist.
Dane is mine, and I won’t let him go.
29
DANE
Stalking my prey is almost too easy. Ron doesn’t seem like a man with something to hide. He doesn’t seem bothered at all by the fact that he tried to rape a woman just a few hours ago.
My blood simmers in my veins, already heating in anticipation of the violent retribution that’s to come.
Abigail is safely in my home across town. I took her to our personal sanctuary after our intense sex at her place.
After she told me she loves me.
Something thuds at the center of my chest, an aching beat.
I choose to ignore the disconcerting sensation.
I’m not capable of love. She’s introduced me to emotions I never thought I’d experience, but the depth of that feeling is impossible for someone like me.
Love is meant to be selfless, and that’s something I will never be.
I’m a selfish bastard, and I’ll covet Abigail’s love for me, even if I can’t return it in the same way. I’ll cherish her and care for her. She will want for nothing.
That will have to be enough.
My job now is to ensure her safety. Ron will never touch her again.
I blink back the red haze that clouds the edges of my vision and find the cold, merciless truth at the core of who I am. Now isn’t the time to indulge in rage. I need to be thoroughly in control.
The aged wood creaks beneath my boots as I stroll down the dock toward my prey. He turns at the sound, and his eyes narrow in a squint against the setting sun behind me.
As I draw closer, he blinks, and recognition dawns on his round face.
He drops his fishing rod and squares up to me in a pathetic attempt to make his weaker body seem intimidating.
I fix him with my most charming smile.
He draws back slightly, thrown off by my affable demeanor.
“What’re you doing here?” he demands. “This is private property.”
“Yes,” I acknowledge. “I saw the signs. But it’s not your property, is it?”
