Page 37

THIRTY-SEVEN

LYDIA

T he Colorado air is crisp and cool, the scent of pine and damp earth filling my lungs as I stand at the edge of the clearing. The mountains loom high around us, ancient and silent, their peaks dusted with snow that glisten in the afternoon sunlight.

It’s breathtaking.

Perfect.

Exactly what I dreamed of.

Trip stands beside me, his hand warm in mine, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles over my knuckles as if he can feel the riot of emotions swirling in my chest.

Because he can.

He always knows.

I squeeze his hand, grounding myself as I glance down at Alia, her little fingers tangled with mine. Her eyes are wide, filled with wonder as she takes in the beauty around us, her lips slightly parted.

“This is so cool,” she whispers, her voice barely above a breath. I smile, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, baby,” I murmur, my heart swelling as I look at her. “It is.”

Trip kneels beside her, his free hand brushing her hair back with a tenderness that makes my chest ache.

“Ready, kid?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

Alia nods, her eyes flicking between us.

“Are you guys really doing this?”

Trip’s lips twitchs, that cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as his gaze shifts to me.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” I whisper, my throat tight with emotion. “We’re really doing this.”

Her little fingers squeeze mine, her face lighting up with a smile that could easily bring me to my knees.

“Good,” she whispers. “I like him.”

God, I’m going to cry.

Trip’s hand finds my waist as he stands, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Ready, killstreak?”

My pulse pounds in my ears, my heart swelling so big it feels like it might burst.

“I’ve never been more ready,” I whisper, my voice barely holding steady.

We stand there, in the heart of the forest, surrounded by towering trees and the quiet hum of nature. The wind whispers through the leaves, carrying the scent of wildflowers and pine, wrapping around us like a blessing.

Trip wears his mask. The mask. The one that started it all. And I… I wear his.

The black tactical mask that he left on my pillow that night after he saved me, the one that still carries the faintest trace of his scent.

It feels like armor.

Like protection.

Because that’s what Trip is.

My protector.

I take a slow breath, my eyes never leaving his as I speak the words that have been lodged in my chest for so long.

“I was broken before you found me.”

My voice trembles, my throat tight with emotion as I speak.

“I didn’t trust. I didn’t believe. I didn’t think I could ever feel safe again.”

Trip’s jaw clenches, his hand tightening around mine, his eyes dark and intense as they hold mine.

“But then you came.”

A tear slips down my cheek, and I don’t care.

“You didn’t just protect me. You saw me. You saw all the broken pieces, and instead of running… You stayed.”

My voice cracks, but I push through, my heart pounding as I pour every ounce of emotion into my words.

“You put me back together. Piece by piece. You gave me something I never thought I’d have again… you gave me a reason to feel alive.”

Trip’s eyes soften, the intensity in his gaze shifting to something deeper.

“You’re not just my protector, Trip.”

I swallow hard, my fingers trembling as I brush them over the mask that hides his face.

“You’re my home.”

The wind rustles through the trees, carrying my words like a prayer.

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. “With everything I am. I choose you. Every day. Forever.”

His eyes…

God, his eyes.

Trip’s hand cups my face, his thumb brushing away the tear that slips down my cheek as he leans in, his forehead pressing gently against mine.

“Lydia…” His voice is a whisper, but it echoes through me, filling every crack, every empty space I thought would never be whole again.

“I’ve lived my life in the shadows.” His voice is rough, raw, the weight of his words pressing down on my heart. “I never thought I’d get out. I didn’t think I deserved to.”

His thumb traces my bottom lip; his touch is featherlight, but it grounds me to this moment.

“But then I saw you.” His lips brush against mine, just a ghost of a touch, but it sets my entire body on fire.

“I watched you. Fell for you. And I knew…” His voice drops lower, the emotion in it making my breath hitch. “I’d burn the whole fucking world down if it meant keeping you safe.”

A tear slips down his cheek, and my heart clenches so hard it hurts.

“You’re not just mine, killstreak. You’re my everything, my entire universe.”

His forehead presses against mine, his breath mingling with mine as he whispers the words that seal this moment forever.

“I’ll protect you.”

“I’ll love you.”

“I’ll kill for you.”

“Forever.”

My chest tightens, and my heart pounds so hard it echoes in my ears.

“I love you,” I whisper, my lips brushing against his.

“And I love you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.

We don’t need witnesses. We don’t need an officiant. We have each other. And that’s more than enough.

We recorded the entire ceremony.

Trip had set up the camera, capturing every moment– the vows, the way we looked at each other, the way our daughter stood between us, her little hand holding ours like she was anchoring us to this world.

But we don’t post it. Not yet. This moment is ours. Just ours.

For now.

And after we send Alia off on a plane to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, leaving her safe and sound, Trip and I are alone.

Completely. And the moment that door closes behind us, he isn’t gentle.

His lips crash against mine, his hands tangling in my hair as he backs me toward the chair next to the bed, his body pressing against me like he can’t get close enough.

“Mine,” he growls, his voice a low, dangerous whisper that makes my knees weak.

“Yours,” I breathe, my body already arching into him.

His hands are everywhere, tearing at my clothes, his lips devouring mine as he walks me backward until my knees hit the edge of the chair.

He pushes me down.

“Stay right there, killstreak,” he murmurs, his eyes dark and filled with hunger as he grabs the silk restraints from the nightstand.

My breath hitches, my body already trembling with anticipation as he ties my wrists to the legs of the chair, his fingers brushing lightly over my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Trip…”

“Shh.”

His lips brush over mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth as he kisses me deep and slow, his hands trailing down my body.

“Tonight,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my jaw, “I’m going to worship you.”

And he does.

His eyes never leave mine, dark and filled with pure hunger. He moves with precision, his jaw clenched, his breath coming out in slow, controlled exhales.

Control.

But I can feel the barely restrained beast just beneath the surface. Begging to be set free.

The man who has killed for me. The man who has claimed me in blood and chaos. The man who is about to ruin me once again.

“Comfortable, little killer?” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that vibrates through me, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Trip…” My voice is breathless, already trembling, my body aching for him before he even touches me.

He kneels between my legs, spreading my thighs wide, his thumbs tracing slow, lazy circles against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

“So fucking beautiful…” His eyes devour me, his fingers brush over my soaked pussy, teasing, but not giving me what I need.

“Please…”

My voice is barely above a whisper, my body already arching toward him, desperate for his mouth.

“Patience, killstreak.”

But I have none.

Trip’s lips press against the inside of my knee, soft and reverent. But that’s where the softness ends.

He sinks his teeth into my skin. I gasp, my body jerking as his teeth leave a perfect imprint behind. His tongue follows, soothing the sting, but it’s just a prelude to what’s coming next.

Fuck.

He kisses.

Nips.

Bites.

His teeth drag over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, his lips brushing over the spot just inches from where I need him most. Teasing me in the most delicious way possible.

“Trip…” I whimper, my hips shifting, trying to get closer to his mouth.

But he doesn’t give me what I want. Not yet.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, his tongue flicking against the crease where my thigh meets my core. “Already dripping, killstreak. So fucking needy for me.”

I am. God, I am.

“Please…” I beg, my voice breaking.

“Please, what?” His eyes flick up, dark and predatory as his lips brush against me.

“Eat me…”

A wicked grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Good girl.”

And then he destroys me in a way that only he knows how. Trip’s tongue is ruthless.

Soft.

Hard.

Slow.

Fast.

He doesn’t just lick me. He devours me. His tongue circles my clit, teasing, flicking, driving me insane. But then he pulls back, dragging his teeth gently over the sensitive flesh of my pussy, making me gasp and squirm against the restraints.

“Trip…” My voice a broken plea, my head falling back as my body trembles beneath his mouth.

“Shh, little killer.” His teeth scrape against the tender skin just above my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain straight to my core. “Let me take my time with you.”

I’m losing my mind.

He licks.

Sucks.

Bites.

His tongue flicks over my clit again, circling it slowly before dragging down to my entrance, tasting me, then back up.

And when I think I can’t take anymore…

He fucks me with his tongue.

“FUCK!” I cry out, my body arching off the chair, my wrists straining against the silk that holds me in place.

He growls against me, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure crashing through me.

“I can feel you, killstreak,” he murmurs, his tongue thrusting deeper. “So close… You gonna come for me?”

“Yes… fuck, yes…”

His lips wrap around my clit, sucking hard as his fingers replace his tongue, thrusting deep, curling perfectly, hitting that spot that has me seeing stars.

“Come for me, my wife.”

My wife.

The words are a trigger.

I shatter.

My orgasm slams into me, hard and fast, my body trembling as I scream his name, the pleasure ripping through me in waves that leave me gasping for air.

Trip doesn’t stop. He never does.

He keeps licking, keeps fucking me with his fingers, dragging every last drop of pleasure out of me until I’m a trembling mess.

He unties me. But I don’t get a moment to breathe. Because he lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed and lying me down like I’m something precious before tying me up again. This time, I’m spread out for him.

Exposed.

Vulnerable.

And I fucking love it. Trip straddles me, his cock heavy and thick as it brushes against my lips.

“Open, little killer,” he growls, his fingers threading through my hair.

I do.

Fuck, do I. He slides his cock into my mouth, groaning as he sinks deep, his thickness stretching my lips wide.

“God, yes…”

I gag around him, my throat constricting as he fucks my mouth, his hand fisting in my hair as he controls the pace.

“Take it, killstreak,” he gunts, his voice a low growl that vibrates through me. “Take all of me.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I don’t care.

I love this.

Love being his.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, his hips thrusting deeper, his cock hitting the back of my throat. “Fucking made for me.”

I moan around him, my tongue swirling around his length, my body aching for more.

But Trip has other plans. He unties me and pulls out of my mouth, his cock glistening with my spit as he lifts me again,

This time, over his head.

My legs straddle his shoulders, my dripping core hovering just above his mouth.

“Trip…” My voice is shaky, my body already trembling.

“Hold on, killstreak,” he murmurs, his hands gripping my thighs as he lowers me down…

And devours me again.

His tongue is relentless, his mouth claiming me as he holds me in place, his lips sucking, biting, tasting.

I scream, my hands gripping his hair as he fucks me with his tongue, his nose brushing against my clit with every thrust.

I can’t breathe.

Can’t think.

And then…

I squirt.

Hard.

My juices flood his mouth, drenching his face, dripping down his body as I scream his name, my body shaking violently.

“Fuck, yes,” he growls, his tongue lapping up every drop, drinking me down like he’s addicted.

I’m a trembling mess, my body completely boneless. He slams me down onto the bed, his body pressing me into the mattress, his cock brushing against my soaked entrance.

“Trip…”

“Shh, killstreak,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine as he teases me, the tip of his cock sliding against my clit, making me whimper.

“Please… I want my husband to fill me.”

I’m begging.

Desperate. But he just smirks, his eyes dark with possession.

“My wife,” he murmurs, his voice filled with reverence and pure fucking need.

“Yours,” I breathe, my body aching for him.

I can’t take it anymore.

I flip us.

Rolling him beneath me, straddling him, taking control.

Trip’s eyes widen.

“Fuck yes, killstreak.”

I sink onto his cock, taking him deep, stretching me until I’m filled to the brim.

“God, yes…”

I ride him hard, my body writhing as I fuck him, my tits bouncing in his face.

Trip doesn’t waste the opportunity. His teeth sink into my nipple, hard, drawing blood. I cry out, the pain sending a fresh wave of arousal crashing through me.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, his tongue lapping up the crimson droplets as his hands grip my hips, guiding me as I ride him.

I’m close.

So close.

He moves us again, lifting me and slamming me against the wall, his cock pounding into me as he fucks me hard and deep, his name falling from my lips like a prayer.

“Mine,” he growls, his teeth scraping against my neck.

“Yours,” I whimper, my body wrecked and trembling.

And when he slams me down onto the bed, driving into me one last time…

I break.

My orgasm crashes over me, hard and violent, my body convulsing as Trip fills me, his cock pulsing as he spills every drop inside me.

I’m barely breathing when he leans down, his lips brush against my ear as he whispers the words that seal me to him forever.

“You made me your monster, Lydia. And I’ll never stop proving that you own me, and I own you. Body, mind, and soul.”