“I want to.” My mouth moves higher, slow, open. “Been dying to taste you since the second you left.”
I spread her with my thumbs, breath hot against her, then lick one long stripe up her center. She gasps, fingers fisting the sheets. I groan against her, tongue circling her clit, dipping inside, fucking her with it until her hips buck.
“Riot—”
“Say it again,” I mutter, voice wrecked. “Like that.”
“Riot.” She grabs my hair, holds me there. “Please.”
I suck hard, slide two fingers in, curl them just right. Her back bows, thighs shaking around my head. I don’t stop until she comes apart, crying my name, pulsing around my fingers, thighs clamping tight.
I rise, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, eyes locked on hers. “Love the way you taste when you’re mine.”
She pulls me down on top of her, legs wrapping my waist. “I need you inside me. Now.”
I notch at her entrance, slow, careful. “You sure?”
“Yes.” Her nails dig into my back. “Please.”
I push in inch by inch, stretching her, filling her until we both groan when I’m buried deep. I stay still for a second, forehead pressed to hers.
“Feel that?” I whisper. “That’s us. Husband and wife. No one can touch this.”
She nods, tears slipping again. “I love you.”
“Love you more.” I start moving, slow rolls at first, then deeper, harder. The bed creaks under us. Her nails rake my back, urging me faster.
I hook one of her legs over my shoulder, change the angle, hit that spot that makes her eyes roll back. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”
She shatters again, clenching around me, crying out. I follow right after, slamming deep, groaning her name as I spill inside her, hips jerking with every pulse until I’m empty and shaking.
We stay locked together, panting, sweaty, hearts hammering. I kiss her slow, lazy, like we’ve got forever now.
“You’re safe,” I murmur against her lips. “You’re home.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, holds me tight. “With you. Always.”
I roll us so she’s on top, still inside her, hands stroking her back. “No more running. No more cages.”
She kisses my jaw, my throat. “Just us.”
“Just us,” I echo.
And for the first time since she disappeared, the world outside the door doesn’t exist. It’s quiet. It’s ours. And I’m never letting her go.
TWENTY-ONE
ANYA
I wake up first,face mashed against Roman’s chest, one leg hooked over his hip like I tried to climb inside him while I slept. Sunlight sneaks through the hotel curtains in thin gold lines, hitting the sheets and catching on something sparkly on my left hand. I blink slow, brain still foggy, then lift my fingers to look closer. There are two rings. A set. The engagement one is a black diamond, not huge but sharp and deep, cut like a rough hexagon so it looks almost dangerous, set in a thin platinum band with tiny black diamonds scattered along the sides like stars in a night sky. The wedding band underneath is matching platinum, slim and smooth except for one thin line of black diamonds running through the center. Both fit perfectly, no slipping, no pinching, like they were sized for me in my sleep.
I stare at them, heart doing a weird flip. They’re beautiful but not soft-beautiful. They’re fierce. Edgy. Exactly how I like things. Nothing frilly or traditional. Just dark, shiny, and unapologetic.
Roman’s hand slides over mine, fingers curling around so he can see what I’m looking at. His voice is still thick with sleep, rough against my ear. “Bought them a while ago.”
I turn my head just enough to meet his eyes. “When?”
“Few weeks after you moved in for good.” He shifts so we’re face to face, noses almost touching. “Saw the black diamond in a shop window in Jackson. Thought it looked like you. Strong. Didn’t take shit from anybody. Knew I wanted to put it on your finger someday. Kept them in the safe at the clubhouse until we got through the worst of it.”
