Page 24

T wo Months Later

The din of King's Tavern wrapped around me like a familiar blanket as I poured a shot of whiskey with steady hands. Two months since that night in the cabin.

Two months since I’d fought back against Jesse.

I wasn't that terrified woman anymore—the one who'd hidden in shadows and flinched at every sudden movement. The woman behind this bar moved with purpose, laughed freely, and met eyes without fear. Sometimes I caught my reflection in the mirrored backsplash and barely recognized myself.

"Another round for these jokers, Mia!" Thor's voice boomed from the corner table where he held court with three prospects—young men with eager faces and temporary patches who hungered for full membership in the Heavy Kings.

I lined up the glasses with practiced efficiency. "Coming right up!"

Friday nights at King's Tavern had their own rhythm—a bass line of regular patrons punctuated by the percussion of club members coming and going. The wooden floors bore the imprints of countless boots, the walls absorbed decades of laughter and whispered secrets. Smoke hung in lazy clouds despite the ventilation system's best efforts, and the scent of leather mingled with whiskey and motor oil.

This place had become home in ways I'd never expected. I slid the tray of drinks toward the waiting server, a local college girl who worked weekends. Her eyes still widened slightly whenever Thor laughed too loudly or when patches from visiting MCs appeared at the door, but she was learning. We all were.

Diesel stretched luxuriously on his oversized bed near the end of the bar, his tail thumping against the floor when he caught my eye. My faithful companion had graduated from hidden refugee to beloved mascot. The regulars spoiled him shamelessly, slipping him treats when they thought I wasn't looking.

"That dog eats better than half the town," Lena remarked, sliding onto a barstool. Her tattooed fingers wrapped around the beer I'd already started pouring for her. "How's it going, queen of the castle?"

I snorted. "Hardly. Just keeping the peace and the glasses full."

Lena's knowing smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. The intricate sleeve tattoos on her arms shifted as she raised her glass in a mock toast. "To humble beginnings."

I clinked my water glass against her beer. Lena had been among the first to welcome me, not just to the tavern but to this strange, tight-knit world of the MC.

"You hear from lover boy?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

"Duke checks in regularly." I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress my smile. "Like I might vanish if he doesn't."

Duke’s Daddy side had been coming out more and more since he’d rescued me from the Serpents. I was safer than I’d ever been, but Duke looked after me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

Thor's laughter erupted again, drawing our attention. His massive frame dominated the table as he gestured broadly, recounting some adventure that had the prospects leaning forward, eyes wide.

"—so there I am, truck sinking in the goddamn lake, cops on the way, and Duke cool as ice, says, 'Well, guess swimming lessons paid off after all.'" He slapped the table, making the glasses jump. "Man never flinches, not even when we had to swim half a mile with fifty pounds of merchandise!"

"He's embellishing again," I murmured to Lena.

"Of course he is. But half of it's probably true, which is the scary part." She sipped her beer. "How're you really doing, Mia? And don't give me the customer service answer."

I wiped down the already clean bar top, buying time. "Still getting used to it. All of it."

My fingers absently touched the small crown pendant at my neck—Duke's gift when I'd finally accepted the "Old Lady" title. I'd resisted at first, but I'd come to understand its meaning in their world—respect, protection, commitment. Not property, but partnership.

"Thought any more about my offer?" Lena asked, tracing the outline of a tattoo on her wrist. "Your sketches are good. Could start you with something small at the shop."

I'd been drawing again—charcoal sketches and watercolors that Duke insisted on framing despite my protests. Another reclaimed piece of myself.

"Maybe. One major life change at a time, though."

"Fair enough." She drained her beer and slid the glass forward for a refill. "Just saying, talent shouldn't go to waste."

The tavern door swung open, bringing a brief gust of cool evening air. Tyson stepped inside, his usual calm demeanor slightly rigid around the edges. He nodded to several club members before making his way to Thor's table. Their heads bent together, voices dropping too low to hear. I felt rather than saw the subtle shift in the room—the imperceptible straightening of spines, the slight turn of heads toward exits and entrances.

Lena caught my expression. "Club business," she said simply. "Nothing for you to worry about."

But I'd learned to read the signs over these past months. The Iron Serpents had gone unusually quiet after Jesse's death. Venom had made his threats, sworn his vengeance for his brother, then seemed to vanish into the shadows. The silence worried Duke more than any direct confrontation would have.

I kept working, filling orders and making change, but my attention remained split—one eye on the hushed conversation in the corner. Thor's playful demeanor had hardened into something dangerous, his massive hands flat on the table, head nodding at whatever Tyson was reporting.

"Prospects, take a walk," Thor finally said, his voice carrying despite its low volume. The three younger men immediately stood and moved to the bar.

"Three beers, Mia," one called, trying to appear casual.

I served them without comment, exchanging a glance with Lena, who shrugged imperceptibly. Whatever was happening, we'd know soon enough.

As the night deepened, I announced last call. The regulars groaned good-naturedly, settling tabs and draining glasses. Through the gradually thinning crowd, I sensed him before I saw him.

Duke entered without fanfare, yet the entire room seemed to rearrange itself around his presence. He exchanged nods with members, clasped hands with a few, but his steel-blue eyes found me immediately.

That look still made my heart stutter—part possessiveness, part pride, part promise. He'd looked at me that way the first day, when I'd been nothing but a frightened stranger with an ill dog and a broken-down car. Now the look carried layers of shared history, danger weathered together, nights of whispered confessions and tangled limbs.

Tyson broke away from Thor to approach Duke, speaking close to his ear. Duke's expression remained neutral, but I caught the tightening around his eyes—not fear, but calculation. He nodded once, decisively, then made his way toward the bar.

"Hey, Little One," he said, his deep voice pitched for my ears alone—using the name he called me only in private. "Busy night?"

"The usual." I fought the urge to reach for him across the bar. Here, in front of others, we maintained certain boundaries—though everyone knew exactly what we were to each other.

"Good." His eyes lingered on my face, reading me with that unnervingly accurate perception. "I'm thinking we call it an early night. Ty and Thor can close up."

It wasn't a question, but neither was it an order. The distinction mattered.

"Give me fifteen to finish up," I said, already untying my apron.

Duke's mouth curved slightly. "I'll be waiting. Got something to show you."

The promise in those simple words sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with fear. Two months had changed everything, yet some things remained gloriously the same—the heat that flared between us, immediate and undeniable.

I finished my closing duties in record time, leaving Tyson with the final counts and Thor supervising the last stragglers out the door. Diesel trotted at my heels as I emerged from the back office to find Duke leaning against his bike, patient and solid in the amber glow of the parking lot lights.

"Ready to go home?" he asked, holding out a helmet.

Home. Such a simple word for something I'd never truly had before. I took the helmet, letting my fingers brush against his, feeling that same electric current that had been there from the start.

"Lead the way," I said, and meant much more than just the ride ahead.

***

Duke's bike ate up the miles of winding road that led away from town. I pressed against his back, arms wrapped tight around his waist, feeling the familiar tension in his muscles through his leather jacket. After twenty minutes of riding through dense pine forest, he turned onto an unmarked dirt road barely wide enough for a vehicle. The trees opened suddenly into a clearing where construction equipment stood silent and waiting, surrounding the wooden skeleton of what would clearly be an enormous house. My breath caught as Duke cut the engine and the silence of the forest enveloped us. This wasn't just any building site. This was a promise made physical.

"What do you think?" Duke's voice was carefully neutral, but his eyes searched my face.

I climbed off the bike on legs still buzzing from the ride. Diesel jumped from his brand new sidecar attachment, immediately racing to explore the perimeter of the clearing.

"It's . . ." Words failed me as I took in the sheer scale of the framing. The foundation sprawled across the clearing, wooden beams reaching skyward like ribs of some great beast. "Duke, is this—"

"Ours." He came beside me, his hand finding the small of my back. "Started it six weeks ago. On club land. Wanted to wait until there was something to actually see before bringing you out."

I stepped forward, drawn toward the structure. Unfinished walls marked out rooms larger than any apartment I'd ever lived in. The forest surrounded us on three sides, with the fourth offering a breathtaking view down the mountain toward distant Ironridge.

"How many square feet is this going to be?" I asked, trying to make sense of the layout.

"Around five thousand." Duke moved ahead, gesturing for me to follow. "Come on, I'll show you the layout."

He led me carefully through the construction site, pointing out features with the pride of a creator. "Main entrance here, with sight lines to the road. Double-reinforced walls in this section. The whole house will have a security system that would make Fort Knox jealous, but this wing especially."

I nodded, understanding the necessity without needing it spelled out. The Iron Serpents weren't known for forgiveness, and I had killed the president's brother.

"Over here," Duke continued, moving to the opposite wing, "garage for the bikes, big enough for working on them too. And this..." He paused at a space with tall framed openings for windows that would face north. "This is for you. Art studio. Best natural light in the house."

My throat tightened. I'd only recently started sketching again, something I'd loved before life had beaten it out of me. Duke had found me drawing one night, hunched over the small desk in his apartment above the tavern. Instead of laughing, he'd silently studied my work, then disappeared the next day to return with proper supplies—charcoals, pastels, watercolors, and heavy paper.

"You don't have to—"

"Yes, I do." His voice was firm. "You've got talent, Little One. Deserves the right space."

We continued through the framing, Duke pointing out features with a builder's knowledge—where the kitchen would stretch, how the great room would open to a covered deck, the master bedroom with its own private entrance.

"Dad always said a man should build something that outlasts him. Something solid." His hand ran along the rough wood of the framing. "The cabin was his. This is mine. Our legacy."

This house wasn't just shelter or security. It was Duke's statement about permanence, about building something that couldn't be stripped away by club politics or rival threats.

"How long?" I asked, running my fingers along the exposed beams.

"A year, maybe more. Depends on club business, how much we need to divert resources to security." His honesty was another gift. Duke never sugarcoated the realities of MC life, never pretended we lived in a world without danger. "We're doing it right. No shortcuts."

I nodded, continuing to explore as Diesel bounded back to us, circling excitedly through the wooden maze. Following Duke through a doorway, I stopped short at the next section of framing. Next to what was clearly the master bedroom stood a smaller room, its dimensions somehow immediately familiar to me.

Duke came up behind me, his chest warm against my back. "This is your safe space. For whatever part of you needs it."

Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. It felt so good to have a special space for my Little side. It had been wonderful exploring that part of me with Duke, and I was eager to go even deeper.

I pressed my face into his chest, overwhelmed. The nursery—because that's what it was—represented more than just a room. It was Duke's acknowledgment of all of me.

"Thank you," I managed.

He stroked my hair, his voice a rumble against my ear. "No need for thanks. This is your home, Mia. All of you belongs here."

We stood like that for several minutes, the forest quiet around us except for Diesel's occasional exploratory barks. Eventually, Duke eased back.

"There's more to show you," he said, a rare smile softening his features. "This place won't be ready for a while, but I didn't want to wait that long to give you a home."

Curiosity replaced emotion as he took my hand and led me through the rest of the framing toward the back of the property. The wooden structure gave way to open land that sloped gently toward a small natural clearing bordered by pines.

"What else is out here?" I asked as we walked, Diesel racing ahead of us.

"Patience, Little One," Duke said, his voice warm with amusement. "Good things come to those who wait."

The late afternoon light filtered through the trees in golden shafts, casting long shadows across the ground. Duke's hand remained firmly around mine, his calloused palm familiar and comforting.

As we rounded a curve in the makeshift path, the trees opened to reveal something gleaming in the clearing—something that definitely hadn't grown there naturally.

It was a camper. Not the battered, rust-bucket kind you'd see at old campgrounds, but a high-end luxury model that must have cost more than everything I'd ever owned combined. The late afternoon light caught on its sleek silver exterior, windows tinted for privacy. I turned to Duke, questions tumbling in my mind, but the rare smile on his face stopped the words in my throat. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the usual hardness melted into something almost boyish. This wasn't just a temporary solution. This was a gift he couldn't wait to give.

"It's ours?" I finally managed.

Duke nodded, fishing a set of keys from his pocket. "Figure we need somewhere private while the house gets built. Somewhere that belongs just to us—not the club, not the tavern." He handed me the keys, the metal warm from his pocket. "Somewhere you can be yourself, whatever that means on any given day."

Diesel had already circled the camper twice, sniffing suspiciously at this new territory before apparently deciding it passed inspection. He sat expectantly by the door, tail sweeping the ground.

"Even got the dog's approval," Duke said with a chuckle. "Want to see inside?"

I nodded, still speechless as I followed him to the door. The steps unfolded automatically as Duke pressed a button on a remote. He gestured for me to go first, and I climbed the short staircase into another world.

The interior took my breath away. Nothing about this space suggested "temporary" or "camper." Gleaming hardwood floors stretched through an open-concept living area. A kitchen with full-sized stainless steel appliances occupied one end, its countertops veined marble that caught the light streaming through strategically placed skylights. The living area featured a plush sectional sofa in soft gray, positioned to face both a mounted flat-screen TV and the large windows that looked out over the forest.

"Duke . . ." I whispered, afraid to touch anything.

"Security system's top of the line, of course," he said, practical as always despite the luxury surrounding us. "Motion sensors outside, bulletproof glass, panic button that alerts me, Thor, and Tyson immediately." He moved to a panel near the door, typing in a code. "You'll need to set your own code. Place runs on solar with generator backup. Fully self-sufficient if needed."

I ran my fingers over the smooth countertop, trying to absorb it all. "This is incredible."

Duke moved closer, his presence solid and reassuring. "You deserve nice things, Mia."

He showed me the practical features—hidden storage compartments, the state-of-the-art entertainment system, a small office nook with high-speed satellite internet. Each revelation made me more overwhelmed.

"Through here," Duke said, leading me toward the back of the camper.

The bedroom doorway revealed a space that made my heart stutter. A queen-sized bed dominated one side, draped in a simple charcoal comforter that looked sinfully comfortable. But it was the other half of the room that made my breath catch painfully in my chest.

Along the opposite wall, Duke had created a space that could only be described as a Little's dream. Soft pastel colors replaced the modern grays and blacks of the main living space. A plush area rug in gentle lavender covered the floor, scattered with oversized cushions in mint green and baby blue. Built-in shelves held coloring books, puzzles, and a small collection of chapter books—the kind with adventures and happy endings. A basket overflowed with art supplies—crayons, markers, and modeling clay.

But it was the stuffed animals that broke something open inside me. A carefully arranged menagerie sat waiting on the cushions, and front and center was Thumper—a floppy-eared rabbit with a worn blue bow.

“But . . . Thumper’s in your apartment.”

“This is Thumper 2.0. In case you need him in either here or at the apartment," Duke explained quietly.

I couldn't speak. Tears blurred my vision as I picked Thumper up, holding him against my chest. The soft fur against my fingers triggered memories of countless nights clutching the original for comfort, whispering my fears to the only friend who never left.

"There's more," Duke said, opening a concealed cabinet to reveal neatly folded stacks of clothing. He pulled out a soft pink hoodie sized for an adult but decorated with small embroidered butterflies. "For when you need . . ." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "For when you need to feel safer. Smaller."

Next came a selection of sippy cups and plastic plates with cartoon characters—practical items for when my hands weren't steady in Little space. Thoughtfully chosen items that would make me feel secure.

"How did you know?" I whispered, clutching Thumper. "How did you know exactly what I'd need?"

Duke's expression softened in a way few people ever witnessed. "Been paying attention, Little One. Watching what helps when you slip into that headspace. Asked Lena for advice too—girl knows more than she lets on."

That explained the perfect touches—the colors, the textures, the way everything felt welcoming without being childish. I could picture Lena directing this project with her artist's eye and blunt compassion.

"This space is yours," Duke continued, his deep voice gentle. "No expectations, no demands. You use it how you want, when you want. Some days you might need it, some days you won't." He sat on the edge of the bed, giving me space to process. "Some nights you might want to color while I read. Some nights you might need me to hold you like the little girl no one ever protected. And some nights—" his eyes darkened slightly "—you might want something else entirely. All of it's okay. All of it's us."

Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I hadn't cried in front of anyone for years before meeting Duke. Now it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"I don't deserve this," I whispered.

Duke moved from the bed to kneel in front of me, his large frame somehow making the space feel safer rather than smaller. "That's the thinking we need to break, Little One. You deserve good things. You deserve to be protected. You deserve a home."

He gently took Thumper from my clenched fingers and set the stuffed rabbit aside, then took both my hands in his. His palms engulfed mine, calloused from years of working with machines and weapons, yet infinitely gentle when they touched me.

"The world dealt you a shit hand, Mia. Made you think you had to always be tough, always be running or fighting." His thumbs traced circles on my skin. "Here—whether it's this camper or the house when it's done—you get to choose who you are moment by moment. The woman who kicked Jesse's ass to save herself? She lives here. The little girl who just wants to color and be told she's good? She lives here too."

I fell forward into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and pine. His arms came around me, one hand cradling the back of my head. His voice rumbled through his chest against my ear. "This is as much for me as it is for you."

I pulled back slightly, questioning.

"Got my own sides too, Mia. The club president who makes the hard calls? He needs somewhere to set that burden down." His eyes held mine steadily. "The man who wants to protect and care for you—whether that means holding you after a nightmare or watching over you while you color or..." he paused, a different heat entering his gaze, "taking you apart and putting you back together in bed—he needs a place to be that man fully."

I understood then. This wasn't just my sanctuary. It was ours. A place where Duke could be the protector, the Daddy, the lover—all the parts of himself that club politics and responsibilities forced him to restrain.

"Our home," I whispered.

"For now," he agreed, glancing out the window toward the construction site. "And later, something bigger. But always ours."

We sat there on the soft cushions, the forest growing darker outside, holding each other in the quiet knowledge that we'd created something rare—a space where we could both be fully ourselves, chosen rather than forced into our roles.

Diesel finally broke the moment, jumping onto the bed with a decisive thump and turning three circles before settling possessively on the comforter.

"Looks like he approves of the accommodations," I said with a watery laugh.

Duke's lips curved into that rare smile. "Smart dog." He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch lingering. "Want to see the rest? There's a bathroom with a shower big enough for two."

The slight darkening of his eyes shifted the atmosphere, and I felt an answering heat coil low in my belly. We had christened every new space we'd shared, from that first night in the cabin to the apartment above the tavern. This would be no exception.

"I'd like that," I said, letting my voice drop to the register that I knew affected him. "I think I need a very thorough tour."

Duke's eyes flashed as he rose to his feet, pulling me up with him. "That can definitely be arranged, Little One."

The moment grew. So did my lust for him. We both knew what was about to happen.

Twilight turned the camper windows into mirrors, reflecting our movements as Duke's hands found the hem of my shirt. His touch was deliberate–not hurried, not tentative–the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. I lifted my arms, letting him pull the fabric over my head, shivering as the cool air kissed my skin. Two months together had taught him every sensitive spot on my body, every trigger that could send me spiraling into pleasure or shifting between headspaces. Tonight, I sensed he planned to use all that knowledge.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his strong fingers tracing the curve of my collarbone down to the swell of my breasts still covered by my bra. "Every time I see you, it hits me like the first time."

I leaned into his touch, warmth blooming under my skin. "That scared girl on the pavement?"

"That fierce woman who looked ready to beat my ass even while terrified." His smile held pride alongside desire. "Knew then you were something special."

He unhooked my bra with practiced ease, letting it fall away. The air pebbled my nipples instantly, drawing his attention. Duke bent his head, his mouth capturing one sensitive peak while his hand cupped the other breast. I gasped, arching into the sensation.

This was the dance we'd perfected—the way he could build me up slowly, hovering me in the space between my adult self and the Little who needed his protection. Duke had an uncanny ability to read which part of me was present, which part needed attention.

His mouth moved to my other breast while his hands slid down to unbutton my jeans. I braced myself against his shoulders, solid as oak beneath my fingers. He guided me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed.

"Lie down for me," he said, his voice dropping into that register that made my core clench with anticipation—the Daddy voice that commanded while it comforted.

I obeyed, settling onto the plush comforter. Duke took his time removing my jeans and underwear, his eyes darkening as he revealed more of my skin. Fully naked now, I fought the urge to cover myself, still unaccustomed to being so exposed despite our months together.

"None of that," he said gently, catching my wrists as I moved to cross my arms. "Let me see you. All of you."

He kept his clothes on, the power imbalance deliberate and thrilling. The leather of his cut creaked as he reached into a drawer beside the bed, retrieving something I couldn't immediately identify.

"Got something new for us to try," he said, showing me a sleek, expensive-looking vibrator. "And this." From his pocket came a black silk blindfold.

My pulse jumped, a mixture of nervousness and excitement flooding my system.

"Will you consent to being blindfolded?" he asked, his tone serious despite the heat in his eyes. This was another aspect of our relationship I treasured—how clearly he established boundaries, how carefully he checked consent, especially when introducing something new.

"Yes," I whispered, already feeling the familiar descent into that space where I surrendered control completely.

Duke's smile was wolfish as he approached the bed. "Good girl."

Those two simple words triggered the shift—the part of me that craved praise and protection rising to the surface. He could sense it happening, his movements becoming more deliberate, more instructive.

"Arms up over your head," he directed, voice gentle but firm.

I complied, stretching my arms above me on the pillow. Duke laid the blindfold across my eyes with care, tying it securely but not too tight. Darkness enveloped me, immediately heightening my other senses—the scent of Duke's cologne mixed with leather, the sound of his breathing, slightly faster than normal.

"Color?" he asked, our shorthand check-in.

"Green," I responded immediately. I was comfortable, consenting, eager to continue.

The bed dipped as he positioned himself beside me. I felt his heat before his touch—then his fingers trailed down my sternum, between my breasts, across my stomach. Goosebumps followed in their wake.

"Going to make you feel so good, Little One," he promised, his voice a rumble that I felt more than heard.

The first touch of the vibrator against my inner thigh made me jump. Duke chuckled, his free hand steadying my hip.

"Sensitive little thing," he murmured. "Just relax."

The vibrator hummed to life, a low purr that intensified as Duke adjusted the settings. He teased me mercilessly, running it along my thighs, circling my navel, brushing tantalizingly close to where I already throbbed with need, then retreating.

By the time he finally pressed it against my clit, I was writhing with desperation. The sensation was electric—intense pleasure shooting through my core and radiating outward. I cried out, my back arching off the bed.

"That's it," Duke encouraged, his voice thick with arousal. "Let go for me."

The orgasm built with shocking speed, my body responding to the precise pressure and vibration. My thighs began to tremble, my breathing turned ragged. When it hit, the climax crashed through me with stunning force. I called Duke's name, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

Before I could fully recover, I felt the bed shift. The vibrator continued its relentless attention to my oversensitive clit, but now Duke's weight moved up the bed. I sensed him above me, then felt the blunt head of his cock press against my lips.

"Open," he commanded, all pretense of gentleness gone, replaced by raw desire.

I parted my lips, welcoming him into my mouth. He was thick and heavy on my tongue, already fully hard. The taste of him—salt and musk and male – filled my senses. I moaned around his length, the vibrations making him hiss with pleasure.

"That's it, baby. Take all of me."

Duke began to thrust shallowly, careful not to go too deep. His control was evident in every measured movement—the power he held in check as he fucked my mouth. The vibrator never ceased its attention, building me toward another peak even as I focused on pleasuring him.

"Your mouth feels so fucking good," he groaned, one hand tangling in my hair.

I sucked harder, hollowing my cheeks, using every trick I'd learned to drive him wild. The dual sensations—the vibrator between my legs and Duke's cock in my mouth – created a feedback loop of pleasure that left me dizzy with arousal.

Suddenly, the vibrator moved. Duke slid it down, past my soaking entrance, until it pressed insistently against my ass hole. The new sensation made me gasp around his cock, my body tensing then relaxing as he applied gentle, persistent pressure.

"Relax," he murmured. "Trust me."

And I did. Completely. My body surrendered to the new sensation—not penetration, just firm pressure and vibration against the sensitive ring of muscle. The taboo nature of it sent a fresh flood of wetness between my thighs.

Duke's thrusts became slightly more insistent. "Going to come soon," he warned, his voice strained. "You want to swallow me down or feel me inside you?"

I released him from my mouth long enough to beg, "Inside me. Please, Duke. I need you inside me."

The vibrator disappeared, and Duke moved swiftly. I felt him position himself between my spread thighs, the head of his cock nudging at my entrance. Even after two months, I still marveled at his size, at how perfectly he filled me.

"Look at you," he said, reaching up to remove the blindfold. "All flushed and desperate."

Light flooded back as the silk fell away. Duke loomed above me, his eyes dark with desire, jaw tight with restraint. He'd removed his cut and shirt, leaving his muscled torso bare, tattoos stark against his skin. The sight of him poised above me, powerful and restrained, sent another rush of heat through me.

"Please," I whispered again.

Duke's hands gripped my hips, lifting me slightly. Then he pushed forward in one long, deliberate thrust. I cried out as he filled me completely, stretching me to the point of delicious pain. He stilled once fully seated, giving me time to adjust.

"So tight," he groaned. "Always so perfect around me."

He began to move, setting a pace that was neither gentle nor rough – deliberate, controlled strokes that hit something deep inside me with each thrust. I wrapped my legs around his waist, changing the angle and taking him even deeper. The new position had his pubic bone grinding against my clit with each movement.

"Duke," I gasped, feeling another orgasm building rapidly. "I'm close."

"Not yet," he commanded, slowing his pace torturously. "Together this time."

His fingers found my nipples, pinching and rolling the sensitive peaks as he continued his measured thrusts. The combination of sensations – his cock stretching me, his fingers on my breasts, the occasional brush against my clit—kept me hovering at the edge of climax without pushing me over.

Duke leaned down, his chest pressing against mine, his mouth at my ear. "You're mine, Mia. Every part of you. The fighter, the survivor, the little girl who needs protection. All mine."

His words, possessive and tender simultaneously, broke something open inside me. "Yours," I agreed breathlessly. "All yours."

His rhythm finally broke, thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more urgent. "Now," he growled. "Come with me now."

The permission was all I needed. My release tore through me, more powerful than the first, my inner walls clamping down around his length. Duke's control snapped at the sensation. He drove into me with newfound intensity, his body tensing as he approached his own climax.

"Mia," he groaned, and I felt him pulsing inside me, filling me with his warmth as he came.

Time seemed suspended as we breathed together, bodies still joined, hearts racing in tandem. Duke's weight pressed me into the mattress, grounding me in the moment. Eventually, he shifted to the side, gathering me against his chest.

"I fucking love you, Mia," he said, the words stark in their simplicity. "For now and forever."

Duke didn't say it often—didn't need to. His actions spoke volumes. But hearing the words in his deep voice, raw with emotion, made my heart swell almost painfully.

"I love you too," I whispered back, my head tucked under his chin.

We lay tangled together, sweat cooling on our skin, as night fully claimed the forest outside. The camper's excellent insulation kept us warm despite the dropping temperature.

"Tomorrow we need to stock the kitchen," Duke said eventually, his hand absently stroking my hair. "Get you whatever you need to feel at home here."

"Grocery shopping?" I smiled against his chest. "Sounds dangerously normal."

"Mmm. Then dinner with Thor and Tyson at the tavern. Club meeting after." His voice remained relaxed despite the mention of club business. "You can stay or come back here—your choice."

The simple freedom of choice—to be involved or to retreat to our private space—was yet another gift. "I'll decide tomorrow," I said, relishing the luxury of uncertainty.

A soft thump at the foot of the bed announced Diesel's arrival. He circled twice before settling at our feet with a contented sigh, completing our small family circle.

As sleep began to claim me, Duke's lips pressed against my forehead. "Welcome home, Little One," he whispered.

I drifted off with the certainty that home wasn't the camper or even the house being built nearby. Home was this – Duke's arms around me, Diesel's warm weight at our feet, the knowledge that I was safe, accepted, loved in all my complexity. For the first time in my life, I belonged completely. Not just to a place, but to people who would fight to protect me as fiercely as I would fight for them.