Page 56

It’s well after midnight, the compound finally quieting after a long night of coordinated hits. My hands are still filthy—knuckles split and bruised from earlier, dried blood and road dust caked under my nails. Five more smaller warehouses went up exactly as planned. Redline is bleeding money at this point. It should feel like a win, like justice served for what they tried to do to her. But the guilt churning deep in my gut won’t let me savor any of it.

I ignored her all day for two days. Short, clipped texts. Radio silence while she monitored feeds and handled threats alone. Distance I convinced myself would protect her from my mistakes. From the target I helped paint on her back after church.

When I reach her doorway, she’s already waiting, sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but one of my oversized shirts, laptop closed on her nightstand, hair loose and wild around her shoulders like she’s been running her hands through it in frustration. Her blue eyes lock on to me the second I step into the frame—sharp, furious, and burning with that unrelenting fire that has owned me since the moment she first hacked into our world. The air between us thickens instantly, charged and electric.

“Stop right there,” she snaps before I can take another step inside. Her voice cuts through the room, low and dangerous. She stands slowly, arms crossing under her chest, the hem of my shirt riding up her thighs. “You don’t get to just walk in like everything’s normal, Switch. Two fucking days. Treating me like some new prospect you can order around and forget about. I thought you were mine and I’m yours? You get a little guilty and run like a pussy? That’s not the man I thought you were. Guess I was wrong.”

The words hit like a shotgun blast to the chest. She’s right. Completely right. I’ve been a coward, letting guilt twist me into someone who shuts her out instead of facing my own mistakes. I freeze in the doorway, jaw tight.

“On your knees,” she orders, eyes narrowing. “Crawl to me. Now.”

Groveling doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m always in control. But for Tatum? I'll choke on my pride and ego for her. I close the door behind me and drop to one knee on the hard floor, then the other. The concrete bites through my jeans as I start crawling toward her on all fours, slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving hers. Each inch forward strips away another layer of my armor. She watches me the entire way. That fierce, possessive spark flickering hotter beneath the anger. When I reach her bare feet, I stay there on my knees, breathing hard.

“Tatum,” I rasp, voice rough from the long day and the weight of everything unsaid. “You’re right. I was a fucking coward.”

She stares down at me, eyes narrowing, but I catch the flicker of heat beneath the anger. That intense, possessive fire that matches my own darkness perfectly. My hands settle on her bare thighs, sliding slowly upward under the hem of the shirt she’s wearing. No panties. The feel of her warm, soft skin under my calloused palms makes my cock twitch.

“I thought pulling away would keep you safer. After Thomas confirmed it was the church meeting that exposed you…the guilt slammed into me worst that anything I’ve felt in a long time. I keep seeing you thrown across that gravel lot. Thought if I kept my distance, Nicholas wouldn’t have as big a target on you. But I was wrong. Dead wrong. You’re mine. I’m yours. No more running. No more shutting you out.”

Her fingers thread roughly into my hair, gripping tight, yanking my head back so I’m forced to look up at her. The sting shoots straight to my cock. She’s in complete control, and the surrender sends a dark, addictive heat flooding through my veins. “Prove it,” she demands, voice husky with anger and need. “No more empty words. Show me, Corbin.”

I don’t hesitate for a second. Still on my knees, I press my forehead against her thigh, breathing her in like she’s oxygen. “I’m sorry, baby. I ignored you. You were alone, monitoring feeds, handling Nicholas’s threats by yourself. I found out secondhand from Lennox for most of it. Which was fucked up. I left you carrying that weight. Never again.” My hands slide higher, gripping her ass firmly, pulling her closer. She’s always matched my darkness. Always been stronger than I gave her credit for.

She tugs my hair harder, the sharp pull making me groan, then slaps my face hard enough to sting. “Don’t fucking move. You don’t get to just say sorry and be absolved.” I stay exactly where I am on my knees, cock throbbing painfully against my zipper. She steps even closer, lifting one leg over my shoulder, using her grip on my hair to yank my face roughly against her bare pussy. Just wet heat and the scent of her that drives me insane.

“Eat me,” she orders, grinding against my mouth. “Make me cum with that mouth you decided wasn’t good enough for words these past two days.”

I devour her instantly—tongue fucking deep, sucking her clit hard, groaning into her slick folds as she starts riding my face. She uses me without mercy, hips rolling, smacking my cheek again when I try to pull back even an inch for air. The sting only makes me hungrier.

“That’s it. Beg for it with your mouth,” she growls, fucking herself on my tongue faster, her thighs trembling around my head.

“Please,” I mumble desperately against her, licking and sucking like a man starved. “Let me make you cum. Use my face, baby. Use me.”

She does. She rides my tongue relentlessly, grinding her clit against my nose, smothering me in her wetness while she chases her pleasure. Her grip in my hair is iron-tight, controlling every movement. I can barely breathe and don’t fucking care—ff this kills me, I’d die happily. I let her take everything she needs from me. Her moans grow louder, breathier, until she shatters hard against my mouth, flooding my tongue with her release. I keep licking her through it, greedy for every drop. Only when her legs stop shaking does she finally push me backward. My back hits the floor, chest heaving. She stands over me for a second, looking down with that wicked smirk I crave more than air.

“Hands above your head,” she orders. I cross my wrists immediately. She drops down, straddling my waist, and pins them with one small but strong hand while the other works my belt open with practiced efficiency. My cock springs free, heavy, aching, already leaking for her. She wraps her fingers around me, stroking slow and deliberate, jerking against the metal piercings, thumb circling the head and spreading the pre-cum.

“You ignored me for two days. Made me wonder if I was just convenient club pussy when the bloodlust faded.”

“Never,” I growl, hips bucking up into her fist despite myself. “You’re everything. My woman. My obsession. The only one who owns me.”

She smirks again and sinks down onto me in one smooth, torturous motion. Hot, tight, wet velvet gripping every inch. I groan loud and deep, fighting every primal instinct to flip her over and fuck her into the floor. This is her moment. Her control. I let her take it completely. She starts riding me agonizingly slow at first, rolling her hips in deliberate circles, taking me deep then pulling back until just the tip remains inside. Teasing and edging. Building her release with me as her toy. Her nails rake down my chest, leaving red lines that burn beautifully.

“Say it again. Who do you belong to, Switch?”

“You,” I rasp, eyes devouring every inch of her. The way her tits move under my shirt, pierced nipples hard and begging. The flush spreading across her cheeks. The way her hair falls around her face. “I’m yours, Spitfire. Only yours. Always.”

She picks up the pace gradually, slamming down harder, grinding her clit against my pelvis with every powerful thrust. The wet, obscene sounds of her riding me fill the room, mixing with her breathy moans and my low, guttural curses.

Flashbacks keep hitting me hard—the basement where I carved “TRAITOR” into Thomas, the way she watches everything with fire in her eyes, the way she traced her initials on my skin, the intense, bloody connection that bound us tighter. She’s my match. My equal in the dark.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good,” I groan, muscles straining as I fight to stay still. She clenches around me deliberately, smiling wickedly when I curse again, her pace relentless now.

She leans down, biting my neck hard enough to leave a mark, then soothes it with her tongue. “You don’t get to ignore me again. Understand?”

“Yes—fuck—yes,” I hiss as she rides me even harder, taking me impossibly deeper. My hands stay pinned above my head, but my hips thrust up to meet her where she allows. She’s chasing her pleasure now, head thrown back, hair cascading down her back, body trembling with building tension.

“Come for me,” I urge, voice raw. “Take what’s yours, Tatum. Use me.”