Page 122 of Lana Pecherczyk

“Am I one of your projects?”

He contemplated her throat like a puzzle too complex to solve. Confusion, unease, and something else he tried to suppress kept surfacing, dragging him back to that sad place he slipped into. A question like this was rare from River, so she gave it the weight it deserved and thought hard. Her answer came when she remembered how they’d first met—what he’d done.

“When we first met, that fae tried to scare me with a story about ruthless, dangerous Guardians. Alarm bells went off in my head. I knew I was in trouble. I thought I was alone and that no one was coming to save me.” She sniffed, thinking about her ex. “No one was ever going to come to my rescue. They never had. But then I heard your voice, taking my side.” She frowned as the memory came back to her. “I was so lost and afraid, and here was this scarred, tatted, lethal, and handsome stranger standing up for me like no one ever has.” She lifted his chin so he met her eyes. “You were the one the bad fae tried to warn me against, but I knew the moment I saw you that he was wrong. A man like you, a Guardian, receives scars from fighting for what he believes in, for protecting it. A man like that is good.”

River’s every muscle beneath her tensed. His shuddering breath warred for restraint as his fingers wrapped around her neck. “I’m not good.”

“You’re good for me. You’re the only safe word I need, and I want to be the same for you. I want to be your whole world, River. Because it’s safe, it’s happy. It’s knowing that no matter what, you have my back.” She pressed her throat against his grip, voice dropping to a husky dare. “Let me fight for you, too.”

“Careful what you wish for, Sparkles.” His grip tightened. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

“Then show me.”

His eyes narrowed, feral and unyielding. “Your safe word?”

“Manfri.”

The word barely left her lips before he moved, all that bottled tension exploding raw and unleashed. He flipped her beneath him and pressed his weight down. He smothered her with his body. Violence thrummed in the air. She felt his strength, the hard edge of his control slipping as he stared down at her, his face a mask of unhinged beauty.

“Do you still want to know,” he whispered, “what it’s like to be a crow’s whole world?”

Her nod snapped whatever thread he still held.

“No, you don’t.” He notched his cock against her slick entrance. “But you will.” His gaze met hers, dark and unrelenting. “After tonight, you’ll know.”

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

River entered Blake with a single, powerful thrust that ripped a cry from somewhere deep in her lungs. He stayed inside her, cock buried, pinning her with a hand against her throat while she writhed, on fire, adjusting to the intrusion.

“There is only this,” he growled. “Only me, deep inside you.” Each whimper she made, every squirm he coveted. “So fucking deep you cease to exist, Blake.” His mouth dipped to her throat. “I will possess you.” Grazed with his teeth. “Obsess over you.”

The instinct to fight him surged. She bucked, but his impossible grip held her firm. His musky scent flooded her senses until his declaration became a reality. Nothing existed but him, around her, inside her, everywhere. He consumed her world.

The more she reacted, the more he craved, and the more she was reminded of why she wanted him in the first place. This was the passion she’d missed her whole life.

“I will own you, Blake. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she moaned, hands mapping the corded strength of his back.

“No, you don’t.” Ragged, stilted breath against her neck.

“Tell me.”

He reared back, drinking in the sight of her beneath him like a prize, a treasure. At that moment, he appeared otherworldly—a tattooed god of darkness and pain, bound by nothing but his own burning need. She could only imagine how he’d look with his wings filling the cabin.

“You are all I think about.” His fingers traced her throat with unexpected reverence, softening his intensity. “You and your Well-damned weird words.” He pinched her peaked nipple, a quick, wicked tug that made her gasp. “Your filthy mouth.” He lowered again to her neck. “And your heart.”

Hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down her throat made her shiver. He savored her now, drawing out each moan, each trembling gasp with unhurried exploration. His touches turned adoring as his hands roamed her body. Finally, when she was mindless with the need to feel him moving inside her, he did—long, measured strokes until she arched beneath him, begging for more.

“I’ll worship the ground you walk on, Sparkles,” he promised, devotion in his deep voice. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll give you the world.”

Her heart swelled as his words filled empty spaces she didn’t know existed. But his gentle reprieve waned. When his hand returned to her throat, there was no tenderness, only a fierce possessiveness, a beastly growl.

“Being my whole world means you’ll never be free of me.”

His gaze bore into her as they stared each other down, lungs heaving, drawing ragged breath. Waiting for her safe word, she realized.