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"You know you mine now?" he rasped.

I nodded, breathless.

"Sam... please."

He wrapped one big hand around my neck making me swallow my words.

He slid into me slowly, dragging a moan from both of us. He let my neck go so his forehead could rest against mine as he bottomed out inside me.

I clutched his shoulders, nails digging in, feeling the stretch, the ache, the overwhelming fucking relief of finally having him where I needed him.

He moved slow at first, deep and steady, like he had all the time in the world to tear me apart.

The water masked the soft, desperate sounds leaving my throat.

But nothing could hide the truth anymore.

I loved this man.

God, I loved him.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and he gripped my ass, lifting me higher, driving into me harder, deeper, until I was trembling against him.

"Like I was saying.” He pushed deep enough for me to feel it in my stomach. “You’re mine now," he growled into my neck, his teeth scraping my skin. "Ain’t no walking away now. You came to me."

I cried out, the orgasm building sharp and fast, spiraling out of me until I was shaking uncontrollably.

When I came, it ripped out of me, soaking his dick, making him curse low and filthy against my mouth.

He fucked me through it, holding me so tight I couldn’t even think about running.

“Shhh, baby. That’s it,” he growled in my ear, voice low and thick with need. “Ride that shit. I got you.”

He kissed me hard, like he needed my breath to finish. When he came, it was with a deep grunt, grinding into me, burying himself as deep as he could.

We stayed tangled under the water—his fingers running slow and steady down my spine, my forehead pressed to the warm strength of his collarbone.

And for the first time in a long, long time—

I didn’t feel empty.

Chapter 22- Zane

The rain had stopped sometime after midnight, but we were still tangled in Sam’s bed, smelling like soap and each other.

I lay sprawled across his chest, tracing slow circles on his skin, feeling the deep, steady beat of his heart under my palm.

I should have been home. I’d cut my phone off to stop it from vibrating.

We were both too lazy to move, and too caught up to pretend we wanted to be anywhere else.

“You know,” he said, voice rough from sleep, “the first girl I ever liked kicked me dead in the shin. She reminds me of you. She was cute and soft.”

I laughed, lifting my head to look at him.

“You’re lying.”

“Swear to God,” he said, grinning. “Second grade. I told her she was pretty. She called me stupid and kicked me so hard my momma had to come get me.”