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DECLAN

I hover by the door, watching as she tucks the comforter under her neck and snuggles into the pillow.

My hand tightens on the handle as her eyes lock with mine.

I want her to ask me to stay. Earlier was a lot. For both of us.

Her nightmare sparked something deep inside of me. This need to protect her. Not save her, because she does a damn good job of that herself.

No, I just want her. That’s why her betrayal hurt so much. Because she was the first and only woman I’ve connected deeply with. I was angry—at her, at the world—and placed my hatred onto her.

When actually, like me, she’s a product of this lifestyle. We don’t ask to be who we are, we are created and molded to be.

The Charlotte that I met in Italy, she captivated me. And now, even more so.

I’d be a dumbass to let her go when I know there isn’t someone else out there for me. No one comes close, I know it deep in my bones.

“Night, heartbreaker,” I whisper.

She pouts, throwing back the blanket, revealing those slender legs.

“There’s, umm, room for two in here,” she says quietly.

That’s enough.

Ripping off my clothes until I’m down to my boxers, I get in behind her.

“Thank you. I didn't really want to be alone,” she says quietly.

Sliding my arm under her body, I pull her closer so my dick is pressing into her ass.

“Oh, I see. I’m just a piece of ass in bed with you?”

She giggles and my chest flutters. That sound is perfect.

“You know, I’ve spent the last four years chained up to my bed as I slept.”

I close my eyes as the burning rage floods me. Instinctively I rub her wrist lightly. Those marks. It all clicks together in my head as to why she passed out in that game.

Chains, degradation. It must have triggered a trauma response. Fuck.

I feel terrible.

Once I get my hands on this man, I’ll chain him up and torture him until he’s begging for death.

“I’m sorry, baby.” I kiss her head.

I want to learn about her past, but part of me is dreading what horrors she will tell me.

Knowing all this time I was resenting her, she has been living in hell.

“Don’t apologize, it isn’t your fault.”

I sigh and rest my head on hers.

“Sure you don’t want to be the little spoon?” she giggles, wriggling her ass, and I laugh.

A flash of a memory of a similar conversation in Italy makes me smile.

Cuddling her with my arm over her waist, I rub small circles on her toned stomach.

“Careful, sweetheart, or you might wake up with my dick in your ass,” I whisper against her hair.

“Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you be the first and only man in there.”

My heart jumps, and so does my cock.

“Absolutely I will be the first and last one.”

Fuck, just thinking about her ass strangling my cock has my blood pounding.

“Now get some sleep before I do just that.”

I stroke her hair as her breathing steadies and close my own eyes.

And just like that, the weight of the world that was resting on my shoulders is lighter.

Because she is in my arms.

In this moment, everything feels right again.

This is exactly where we were meant to be.