I thread my fingers through his dark, messy hair, tugging gently until his head tips back. His eyes are blown wide, pupils swallowing the gold irises. They burn with a raw, primal need that makes my core ache.
"You got your permit," I remind him softly. "You got your building. You won, Chase."
He shakes his head, his gaze locked on my mouth. "The building is just wood and glass, Cassandra. You are the win. You’re the only thing I care about owning."
He kisses me then. A brutal, possessive claiming that is light-years away from the polite peck of a proud partner. He doesn't just kiss me; he claims my mouth, his tongue sweeping deep and aggressive while he bites my bottom lip. My knees buckle instantly, my body turning into a liquid mess that only stays upright because of his hands fisted in my hair. There is nothingleft in the world but the taste of him and the way my pussy is drenched and throbbing for his touch.
He spins us around, fumbling with the keys. He shoves the door open and kicks it shut behind us with a heavy thud. The cabin is cool and dim, smelling of woodsmoke and the expensive coffee beans he knows I like.
"Bedroom," he commands.
"Chase, it’s only two in the afternoon?—"
"I don't care if it’s high noon." He walks me backward toward the hallway, his hands already working the buttons of my blouse with a frantic, controlled energy. "I’ve been watching you talk regulations and safety protocols all morning. Articulate. Professional. Cold."
He pops the top button. Then the second.
"Commanding," he continues, his voice dropping an octave as we reach the bedroom. "Telling the Mayor where to sign. Telling the press where to stand. Ruling that room like you owned it."
My blouse falls open. His eyes drop to the sheer lace bra I’m wearing and darken until they are almost black.
"Such a good lawyer," he praises, his thumbs tracing the line of my collarbone. "Smart. Sharp. Vicious when you need to be."
Air stalls in my lungs. "Chase..."
He pushes me until my knees hit the edge of the mattress. I sit heavily, looking up at him as he towers over me. He strips off his suit jacket and tosses it aside, unbuttoning his cuffs with slow, deliberate movements that promise a long, punishing night.
"You’re done being a lawyer for today." He tosses his shirt to the floor, revealing the map of hard muscle andthe dark, feral wolf that guardshis chest. Scarred. Powerful. Perfect. "I’m going to fill you so full of my seed that the Mayor’s scent will be scorched out of your memory. I’m going to stretch you wide and remind you exactly who owns your pussy. Now, you’re mine."
"Yours," I sigh, my head falling back.
He kneels between my spread legs. His large hands slide up my thighs, gathering the charcoal pencil skirt until it bunches at my hips. He leans in, his nose brushing mine, his scent overwhelming my senses.
"Tell me who you belong to, Cassandra."
"You," I whisper, my eyes fluttering shut. "I belong to you."
"Good girl."
The praise snaps my remaining control. Heat pools in my belly, heavy and demanding. He knows exactly what those words do to my submissive instincts. He uses them like a weapon, dismantling my restraint until there is nothing left but the need to be occupied.
He kisses me deeper, pushing me back onto the heavy furs of the mattress. He shoves my skirt up, urgency bleeding into his touch. I arch my back as his hand slides into my panties. Rough, calloused fingers find the drenched, pulsing heat of my pussy.
"Soaked for me," he growls, his voice vibrating through my core. "Ruining your lace while you were playing the professional for the crowd. Were you thinking about this? While you were standing on that stage?"
"Yes," I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. "God, yes."
"Good."
He shucks his trousers, freeing his cock. Thick. Heavy. Engorged. The sight of him still makes my breath catch—the sheer size of him, the absolute promise of being stretched and filled to the brim. He positions himself at my entrance, the broad, blunt head of his cock pressing against me, teasing the opening. He pauses, his muscles trembling with the effort of holding back. He wants to slam into me, I can feel the tension radiating from his hips, but he demands my focus first.
"Look at me," he commands.
I force my eyes open, locking onto his intense, molten gaze.
"We built a foundation today," he says, his voice rough and thick with arousal. "For the town. For the club. But this? Us? This is the only foundation that matters. I’m never letting you go, Cassandra. You can quit the law, you can run for Mayor, you can do whatever the hell you want out there in the world. But at the end of the day, you come back here. To this bed. To me. Under me."
"I’m not going anywhere," I promise, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer. "I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be."
