Page 204 of Blackwood

But the part of her unraveling on this floor? That storm inside her? That belongs to me. Only I can bring her back from that edge.

I’ve been doing it for months, after every mission, every panic spiral. Every time she broke down over him, over their breakup, over everything.Me.I’m the one who holds her when she falls apart. The one who knows exactly how deep that darkness runs and still doesn’t flinch.

I wrap my arms around her like I’m staking a fucking claim. Bella thrashes, wild and clawing, but I don’t let go.

“Breathe,” I whisper, my mouth at her temple, my grip iron. “Breathe with me, baby.”

Her fists slam against my chest—once, twice, again—until she breaks. Just fucking breaks. All that fire, all that fury, melts into sobs as her body caves into mine.

I tilt her chin up, force her to look at me. Her eyes are wild. Shattered. Full of betrayal and grief and something darker, something that looks a hell of a lot like surrender.

“Everything’s broken,” she whispers.

I nod once, firm. “Yeah. It is.”

Her breath shakes. “And I’m not okay.”

I lean in, nose brushing hers. “Neither am I, baby.”

Her fingers fist in my shirt like she’s drowning. “I need—”

“I know.”

I crush my mouth to hers. It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s desperate. A full-body, bone-deep need to feel something other than this black hole inside us. She kisses me back like she can’t breathe and I’m the only air she’ll ever get again.

My hands are everywhere, her back, her waist, gripping her thighs as I lift her off the ground. She wraps around me like she’s trying to fuse our skin together.

I slam her into the wall. She gasps against my mouth. “Lex.”

“Tell me to stop.”

She doesn’t.

I rip her dress over her head. It tears. She doesn’t care. She yanks my jacket and shirt off, digs her nails into my chest like she’s trying to claw her way inside. We’re fire and gasoline. Rage and grief. Two storms colliding.

I bite down on her neck and she moans as her hands go to my belt. Fumbling. Shaking.

“I need you,” she pants. “Right now.”

I growl against her skin. “You have me.”

My pants hit the floor. Her panties follow.

I don’t wait. I line up, grab her hips, and slam into her in one hard, unrelenting thrust. Her scream is sharp. Raw. And it rips straight through me. She digs her heels into my back and throws her head back against the wall. I fuck her like I’m trying to erase the last twenty-four hours. Like I’m trying to make her feel alive, feel safe.

“Mine,” I growl against her skin, lips brushing the sweat-slick curve of her throat. “You hear me, malyshka? Mine.”

“Yes,” she gasps.

And then I lose it. I drive into her with the kind of brutal rhythm that doesn’t ask, it takes. Her nails claw into my back drawing blood, but I don’t stop. Not when she cries out. Not when her entire body arches under me like she’s breaking apart from within.

I grip her jaw, force her eyes back to mine. “Look at me.”

Her pupils are blown wide, lips swollen from my kisses. “Lex…”

“Come with me,” I rasp, breath ragged. “Glaza na menya, malyshka.”

She shatters right there under me. Her steel eyes locking with mine. Her lips cursing my name.