Where Crown was a sibling, Wolfe might as well have been my child. When I met him, he was six years my junior and broken. Through his eyes, he didn't believe life was worth living. Mr. John had a hand in trying to break Wolfe, too. He paid a few of the older kids to bully Wolfe. The day Honor called me, I stole my mother's van and drove to Gravehart Homes. Wolfe was there, with a broken nose, listening to Honor scold him for not standing up for himself. I thought Honor was being too tough on him. I preferred he handle Mark so Wolfe wouldn't have to, but what lesson would that teach? Wolfe didn't need my protectionor Honor's. He needed to believe he could protect himself rather than wait for someone to save him. Honor took Wolfe under his wing, but I stayed close. Loving Wolfe meant patience. It was listening to him even when he didn't speak. I always showed up for him because his mother not doing so broke him. Wolfe taught me the kind of love that trusts healing will come as long as you keep showing up for that person.
Crown and Wolfe taught me so much about love, but even more about myself. Without them, I probably wouldn't have brought Gravehart Homes. But underneath what they've given me was something more… possessive. There was a love carved into my bones like scripture on parchment, and it belonged to Honor.
Thatlovedidn't teach. It didn't nurture. That love haunted me.
It's the type of love to thin the air when he's not around. It quietly burned behind every choice I made, any risk I might've taken. Falling for Honor was never a choice. It was fate, or whatever was the equivalent. Our love was stubborn to the point we had to fight tooth and nail to protect it. Still, I would fight every day of my life because this love… his love… always been like the realest thing my heart has ever known. And a love like that didn't happen twice in a lifetime.
"Navy!" he gritted, bringing me back to the issue at hand.
"Leave me alone, Honor. I'm not running until we talk about how we're going to piece this family back together."
"That's your word?"
"Yes… Honor… that's my word."
A chill swept across my skin when I heard that ghostly laugh Honor did whenever someone thought he wasn't about to have his way. I braced myself for whatever came next because I meant what I said. This family we've built meant the world to me. I refused to watch it crumble behind egos and unhealed trauma.
"Navy, get up." His voice became nice and raspy, just how I liked it.
On the inside, I was beaming. I knew Honor just as well as I knew myself. Nibbling on my lip, I waited for one of two things to happen. Either he'll leave me alone and duck off somewhere, giving me time to think about my actions, or his dick will pummel into me until I give in to his demands.
"Navy."
This time, my name came out in a low, sexy whisper that brought my clit to life. Soft pulses with anticipation stretching between each one. I squeezed my thighs together, praying it would slow the pulses.
"Squeezing your legs together won't stop shit," he continued, and was right.
It never did.
In Honor's mind, we were to always move in unison. He leads, and I follow. So, when I wobbled off the path, it was his job to remind me of my place. A tongue glossing a woman's second set of lips might've been how most men got their women to submit, but not my man. That delicacy came after he marked me, and I declared who I belonged to.
The blanket was yanked off me, and soon after, the mattress dipped, causing my body to grow tense. Honor's hand fell to my hip, and with just enough force, he rolled me onto my back, then once more, so I was facing him.
"Look at me, Navy."
Unable to deny his growled request, my eyes fluttered open, and our eyes connected. The mattress dipped beneath his weight once more. Those haunting yet hypnotic eyes lowered toward my lips, and mine followed his in an unspoken game of tag.
"Honor," I whispered, desperate to feel him on me, in me, in any way he chose.
My hunger for him was so deviant, so insatiable that I often thought I was losing my mind and Honor loved it.
Breathlessly, I called his name once more. "Honor."
Ignoring me, he took his time shifting his weight. What was the rush when my body belonged to him, worshipped him, broke into a million pieces for him? I was his, and he knew it, so he toed the line. Sliding his hand from my waist to brace himself as his body hung over mine. His knees went to knock my legs apart, but they were already spread, waiting to accept him.
"Honor." The moan slipped out from the heat of our bodies, barely touching. This was the space between request and fulfillment.
"What do you want, Navy?" His hand dropped back to my waist and tugged at my lace thong.
One pull.
"Honor!" I gasped, squirming as the lace bit into my skin. Then another, and Honor was dragging the fabric from my body.
"Fuck you calling me for? Weren't you just ignoring a nigga 'cause you didn't wanna get up? Keep that same energy, Navy, and continue to ignore a nigga."
Honor's words drifted into silence. His fingers rubbed against my skin before parting my pussy lips just enough for my arousal to scent the room. Back and forth, they rubbed, pressing into my clit a little more with each pass. My breathing hitched, legs parting wider, silently inviting him in. Leaning forward, his lips brushed against my ear. His voice dropped into a smoky growl, cursing my clit into a game of patty cake against his fingers.
"Ignore every fucking thing I'm doing to you," he asserted, his voice sharp and commanding. "I don't wanna hear a sound from you. Not my name, not a whimper, no moans… nothing. Not a sound, understand me?"
