There’s Deacon. The Syndicate. Ash. The reality of it presses in at the edges, sharp and unrelenting, threatening to break through.
My grip falters. Just for a second.
Nash feels it immediately. His mouth stills. His hand at my neck loosens—not pulling away, just…easing.
“Stay,” he murmurs, quieter now. “With me.”
I can’t.I don’t say it. Don’t have to. It’s already there, hanging between us, unspoken and unavoidable.
But for now, in this moment, we can pretend that everything is going to be okay. That’s all I can give him.
I bite his lower lip, and run my tongue along the mark to soothe the sting he must be feeling.
His eyes lock on mine instantly, something darker settling there. Not anger. Not even hunger, exactly. Something more controlled than that. More dangerous. Like he already knows exactly how this ends, and all I have to do is let him take me there.
Nash’s hand slides from my throat, down the line of my body, deliberate enough to make me shiver. He doesn’t rush. He never does when I’m fraying at the edges like this. He’s learned the quickest way to undo me is to take his time.
“Good little wolf,” he says softly, and the words hum through me, settling into every tender place.
My breath catches.
He kisses me once, slow and deep, then breaks away just enough to look at me and make our clothes disappear. To make sure I’m still here. Still with him. His thumb dragsalong my jaw, tipping my face up as his gaze searches mine.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Don’t go anywhere.”
The command wraps around me, heavy and certain. Grounding. Possessive in the way only Nash can be. Like he can feel the panic trying to claw its way back in and plans to ruin it before it ever gets the chance.
Then he moves lower.
His mouth traces a path down my throat, my collarbone, lingering just long enough to make every nerve in my body spark awake. I can feel the shift in him with every touch. The careful control. The promise in it. He’s not touching me just to make me want. He’s touching me to make me forget.
My fingers tangle in his hair as he reaches the wetness of my cunt and looks up at me from beneath his lashes, one broad hand tightening on my thigh.
“Stay with me,” he says again, rougher now.
And this time, when he presses me back and parts me for him, I go willingly. With every pass of his tongue on my clit, I get dragged further up a cliff toward release. But Nash, that controlling bastard, keeps me right on the edge.
His mouth is attached to my clit, but one deft finger slides into my pussy and Iscream.
“Oh God.”
He smiles against my core and I want to punch him for stopping. Again.
“You’re going to come on my dick, little wolf. To remind you what you said yes to.”
When he pushes the head of his cock against my opening, I don’t even realize he’s moved. I’m sweating, ready for it, and practically begging by the time he inches inside my body.
“More.” I gasp. “Please. More.”
Hooking one leg over his arm, Nash moves me so that he controls everything. Every thrust. Every move. Every angle is one he decides. And I let him.
I let him take me right back to the edge of my orgasm. This time, I scratch down his back and force him to kiss me, distracting him just enough to push both of us over the edge and into oblivion.
Later, Nash sleeps, deep. Still. One arm draped heavily over my ribcage like I belong there, curled into the bend of his body.
Claimed.
I don’t move. I can’t. But my eyes stay open, staring into the dark.
