Page 48

And I sure as hell don’t cower when he tells me to stay put. Adrenaline hums through me, but it isn’t fear—it’s certainty.

“You say that like you think I’m going to listen,” I whisper, fingers locking around his arm.

His eyes gleam faintly, wolf-bright, but beneath the dominance is something that steals my breath—need. Love. Home.

“I want to be one with you,” I say, every word forged in fire. “Whatever this is between us, I want it. Now.”

He holsters the gun, cups my face, and brushes a smear of soot from my cheek. “Then now is all that exists,” he murmurs. His mouth claims mine, and the world narrows to the fierce, irrevocable fact of us.

He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me toward the shadows of the hallway where dawn can’t intrude. The growl rumbling fromhis chest now isn’t a warning—it’s possession, and I answer with a tremor of pure, willing surrender.

His nostrils flare, dragging in the scent of sweat, blood, and me. His jaw flexes, muscle twitching like it’s the only thing keeping him from devouring me right here. The silence between us pulses—dense with lust, instinct, and the unspoken promise of something raw and irrevocable. Not just adrenaline. Not just need. It’s a magnetic pull that thrums beneath the skin, something ancient, sacred. A primal recognition that defies logic and burns with permanence, like a vow written in flesh and fire.

His hand comes up, cupping my jaw, thumb grazing my cheek. "You know what you’re saying?"

"Yes," I breathe. "Do it. Claim me."

His mouth crashes into mine like a storm—wild, all-consuming. The impact rips the air from my lungs, crackles down my spine like a live wire, and yanks a needy whimper from my throat. I taste blood, sweat, smoke—his fury and need, all tangled and desperate. My knees give, boneless with the shock of it, but he catches me, one arm banded around my waist, the other in my hair, holding me like I’m the anchor in a world that’s unraveling. His kiss devours, dominates, ignites—raw and erotic and thick with the taste of survival and possession. I drown in it, in him, and I never want to come up for air.

He doesn’t ask again. Doesn’t hesitate. His hands are already on me—rough, possessive, commanding—as he lifts me, pins me higher against the wall, and growls low against my ear. The sound reverberates through my spine, igniting every nerve as his fingers dig into my hips like he's branding me with his need. His eyes blaze gold, primal and unforgiving, and when he thrusts again, there’s no gentleness left—only domination, claiming, and the scorching heat of a man unleashing everything he’s held back. I cling to him, gasping, burning, undone.

One moment I’m trembling on my feet, breath catching on a sob I never release. The next, I’m crushed against the ranch wall, not by chaos, but by intent. This isn’t frenzy. This is fire laced with reverence, fury tempered by devotion. His gaze devours me, not just with hunger, but with awe—like I’m the last pure thing in a world soaked in blood and ash.

His mouth scorches a trail down my neck, lingering at the hollow before continuing over my chest and ribs, each kiss a brand. He doesn't just kiss—he worships with his mouth, teeth grazing in precise, aching sweeps that make my skin prickle with anticipation. Every scrape is a vow, a promise carved into flesh, daring me to surrender completely. Heat blooms where he touches, hunger roaring where he hasn't. Each breath between us is heavy with scent and sweat and need, and the promise of his bite thrums through me like thunder waiting to break.

I whimper as he drops to his knees, his breath a molten brand against the slick heat of my core. The first swipe of his tongue is devastating—sharp, precise, igniting a firestorm low in my belly. I cry out, hips jerking, fingers knotting in his hair like I’m afraid letting go might undo me entirely.

He doesn’t tease, doesn’t play—he feasts like he’s been denied sustenance for too long, desperate and reverent, his tongue delving deep, his mouth greedy. The sounds he makes, low and hungry, vibrate against me, each one unraveling me further. I come apart for him, trembling, panting, offering him every shattered piece of myself, and he takes it all like it’s sacred.

He rises slowly, licking my release from his lips with a satisfied sound, the flick of his tongue deliberate, reverent. His gaze catches mine, molten with hunger and satisfaction, pupils dilated until only a golden ring of the wolf remains. He growls, like a predator savoring the moment before the final pounce, before he towers above me, every muscle tight with restraint and desire.

The air between us is thick, charged, humming with a need so intense it makes my skin flush and my core clench with anticipation. The scent of me is on him, on his mouth, in the air. He bends, fitting himself against me, and I gasp as his skin brushes mine, slick and fevered.

When he thrusts into me, it’s not brutal—it’s worship turned savage, a storm made flesh. Deep, slow, devastating. Each inch sinks in with a groan that tears from his throat, and my body rises to meet him, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist. I arch into his chest, needing more, needingeverything.His mouth claims mine again, tongue stroking deep, hungry, as if he’s trying to taste my soul.

The world doesn’t blur—it shatters into brilliance. Light fractures behind my eyelids, breath punched from my lungs as if the very fabric of the universe has torn open to make room for us. Every nerve flares white-hot, every inch of skin alive with searing contact, with him. Pleasure pulses through me in bright, blistering waves, until it all blurs into one dizzying, soul-scouring climax. I fall through sensation, anchored only by the brutal grip of his hands and the unrelenting power of what we’ve just become.

Then his lips blaze a trail downward, slow and deliberate, tracing the edge of my jaw, the column of my throat, each kiss a searing brand of possession and promise. When he reaches the tender spot just right of the hollow, he pauses. His breath fans over the sensitive skin, warm and unrelenting, and I feel the shiver start low and ripple outward. The air is thick with heat and inevitability, the world narrowing until all I can feel is his mouth, the strength coiled in his body, and the raw, primal certainty that everything is about to change.

I feel the drag of his breath there—hot, ragged, possessive. The way his body coils like a predator about to strike, every muscle wound tight with intent. His grip on my hips turns iron-hard, anchoring me to him as though letting go would shatter us both. His chest heaves against mine, the heat of him scorching down my body, and the sharp scrape of his teeth just barely grazes my skin, promising more. Anticipation floods my veins, molten and sharp, my body trembling with the ache of what's to come.

And then... he bites. Hard.

A jagged burst of pain lances through me, sharp as a blade, but edged with something far more dangerous—ecstasy. It scorches through my nerves, detonates in my bloodstream. A tidal wave of pleasure crashes behind it, swallowing me whole. The bond doesn’t ease in like a tide—it slams through me like lightning cracking open the sky, a blinding, searing connection that fuses our souls in an instant. I cry out, his name tearing from my throat like a prayer and a scream entwined, the sensation ripping me open and flooding every shattered edge with fierce, irrevocable belonging.

Every nerve in my body vibrates with him—resonates like struck crystal, sharp and singing. I feel him inside me, not just the hot, perfect press of his body, but the deeper, undeniable thread weaving our souls together. It’s a fierce, luminous tether—one that hums with promise and power, devotion and possession. I feel his dominance coiling through me like silk-wrapped steel, his protection a mantle across my skin, his love branding itself into my marrow with every breath I take.

I climax with a cry that rips from my throat, primal and unrestrained, torn from a place so deep it feels ancient. My body convulses around him, waves of ecstasy pulsing out in shattering bursts that leave me gasping. The sound that escapes me is not a word, not a scream, but a guttural, broken melody of surrender and fulfillment—something feral, something holy. It doesn't feel like it comes from me, but from some wild, newly awakened partof my soul, marking the moment I stop being only human and become his.

And through it all, Deacon holds me—his arms fierce and unyielding, like steel forged in fire. He anchors me with the brutal certainty of his possession, every breath against my skin a vow, every heartbeat a silent promise that I am his. He claims me not with words, but with the raw power of his body and the fierce, trembling tenderness of a soul that has finally found its match.

He buries his face in my neck, his tongue tracing slow, tender circles over the bite, each lap sending aftershocks through my overstimulated body. A deep, guttural sound escapes him as he shudders, spilling himself inside me with a force that feels like possession made flesh.

Our breath mingles in hot, uneven bursts, his chest pressed tight to mine, the rhythm of our hearts syncing into a single, wild tempo. His skin is slick against mine, muscles trembling with the aftermath, and I feel him everywhere—around me, within me, branded into my very soul. As the stars blur and the world steadies beneath us, I know with aching certainty that nothing will ever be the same.

I’m his. He’s mine. We are one.

The sun climbs into the sky, golden light spilling like honey across the battlefield, gilding the blackened soil and blood-slick grass in a deceptive peace. The scent of ash still clings to the air, sharp and acrid, but beneath it, I sense something softer—a whisper of rain on warm stone, of rebirth.