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Jackson

The word hits me hard. For three thundering heartbeats, I can only stare at her—my fierce, untamable Shiloh, finally agreeing to be mine in every way that matters. The sight of her sun-streaked hair falling loose over her shoulders, her chin lifted despite her submission, is so fucking beautiful, dragging me closer, like a moth about to obliterated by a hypnotic flame.

I’ve broken men for profit and pleasure. Built an empire and spilled blood to do it. But this woman—this perfect creature who fought me at every turn—brings me to my knees with a single word.

“Say it again.” My voice carries that edge of command that usually makes her bristle, but now she just smiles. The expression holds equal parts surrender and challenge.

“Yes, you possessive bastard.” She tilts her head, baring the bruises I left on her throat. “I’ll marry you.”

I surge forward, claiming her mouth in a kiss that’s equal parts possession and promise. She yields instantly, her soft body melting against mine as I lift her. The contrast between us still makes my cock throb—her delicate frame cradled against my chest, her curves a lethal temptation. I could break her so easily. Instead, I’ll spend my life making sure nothing else ever does.

“Mine.” I carry her toward the house, feeling her shiver as the evening air hits her heated skin. The word comes out darker than I intend, but she doesn’t flinch. If anything, she burrows closer, seeking my heat. My protection. “Say it.”

“Yours.” The admission carries none of the hesitation it did three months ago, when I first claimed her. Her fingers trace idle patterns on my chest, but I feel the subtle tremors in her touch. “But only because I choose to be.”

The qualifier makes me growl, tightening my grip until she gasps. “Careful, hellcat.” I negotiate the front steps without breaking stride, my whole body thrumming with the need to mark her, claim her, make her mine in every way. “You’re not in a position to make demands.”

Her laugh holds that edge of defiance that first drew me to her. “I’m in exactly the position to make demands.” She nips at my throat, the sharp sting going straight to my cock. “You just said yes to forever.”

I kick the bedroom door shut behind us, already planning how to remind her who’s in charge. “Are you going to promise to obey?”

“In the bedroom.” Her quiet confidence drew me up short. “Everywhere else, we’re partners.”

The word hits harder than it should. Partners. Equals, her expertise complimenting my empire. The thought of her running our combined operations with that ruthless competence that first caught my attention makes my blood burn.

I set her on her feet, caging her against the wall with my body. “Everywhere else,” I agree, sliding my hand into her hair. The silky strands wrap around my fingers as I tilt her head back, forcing her to meet my gaze. “But in here? In our bed?” I tighten my grip until she gasps. “Here, you’re mine to command. To protect. To break.”

Her pupils dilate, but she doesn’t look away. “Yes.”

Such a simple word. Such a devastating surrender. I claim her mouth again, drinking in her willing submission. She arches into me, soft curves pressing against hard muscle, but I hold onto my control with an iron fist to keep from taking her against the wall.

Barely.

Desire wars with my need to drop to my knees and adore this fierce creature who handled everything alone because she had to, who’s given me the gift of her trust, to lean on my strength. If I want to keep her, I’m going to have to accept that any control I have is because she gives it to me, not because I’ve taken it from her.

The thought should terrify me, but when she makes a soft hum of desire and slides her fingers through my hair, dragging my lips down to hers for a claiming kiss, all I can summon is the intense need to protect her.

“Shower first.” I release her hair but keep her caged with my body. “Let’s wash off the blood of your enemies before I mark you as mine again.”

Her breath catches at the promise in my voice. Good. Let her anticipate what’s coming. Let her remember that she just gave me permission to own her completely.

I strip her slowly, savoring each inch of exposed skin. The bruises from last night’s claiming have faded to subtle shadows, but that just means I get to mark her again. Remind her who she belongs to now.

Under the hot spray, she yields to my touch with a trust that makes my chest tight. I wash her with possessive care, each stroke of the cloth both cleaning and claiming, as I wash away the violence from the day. I kiss every bruise those fuckers left, every cut, as she relaxes into my touch.

“I watched you for so long.” The confession slips out as I trace the curve of her spine. “Fighting everything, everyone. Never letting anyone close enough to help.” I grip her hip, remembering how many times I imagined exactly this—her wet skin under my hands, her trust freely given. “Never letting anyone protect you.”

She starts to turn, but I hold her still. Some truths are easier to admit when I don’t have to see her expression.

“I wanted to break you.” I slide my hand up to span her throat, feeling her pulse jump. “To shatter that defiance, make you beg for my control.” My other hand finds her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers until she whimpers. “But watching you work with those horses—seeing how you gentled them without breaking their spirit—I realized something.”

“What?” Her voice shakes as I increase the pressure on her throat.

“That I didn’t want to break you at all.” I bite down on her shoulder, marking her as mine all over again. “I wanted to prove I was strong enough to handle your wildness. Worthy of your submission.” I slide my hand between her thighs, finding her already wet for me. “Capable of protecting you without caging you.”

She trembles as I work her, my fingers finding every spot that makes her gasp. “Jackson?—”

“I love you.” The words come out like a growl, possession and devotion tangled together. “Your strength. Your defiance. That fierce heart that refuses to yield to anyone who hasn’t earned it.” I press two fingers inside her, feeling her clench around me. “And I’m going to spend the rest of our lives proving I deserve every inch of control you give me.”

She comes with a broken cry of my name, her whole body shaking in my arms. I work her through it slowly, drawing out every aftershock until she’s boneless against my chest.

Only then do I turn her to face me, tilting her chin up until she meets my gaze. Water streams down her face, but I see the tears she’s trying to hide. “Say it back.”

For one endless moment, she’s silent, and I fear I’ve pushed her too fast, too hard. Then that fierce chin lifts in the gesture that first made me want to possess her completely. “I love you, too, you controlling bastard.”

I laugh, the sound surprisingly real. “Good girl.” I shut off the water and lift her again, carrying her to our bed. “Now let me show you exactly what that confession earned you.”

Her eyes darken as I lay her out on the sheets, careful of her injuries. I take my time exploring her body, relearning every curve, every sensitive spot that makes her gasp. Each kiss is a claim.

When I finally slide into her, the fit is perfect—like every other part of us, made to complement each other. She wraps her legs around my waist, taking me deeper, but I set the pace. Slow and deep, each thrust a reminder of my control.

“Mine.” I capture her hands, pinning them beside her head as I claim her mouth. The kiss tastes like surrender and defiance, like partnership and possession. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” She matches me thrust for thrust. “I’m yours.”

I reward her by sliding my hand between us, finding her clit with practiced ease. “And I’m yours.” The admission comes easier now, with her spread beneath me, yielding everything I ever wanted. “Every violent impulse. Every possessive instinct.” I speed up my movements, driving us both higher. “I’ll protect what’s mine until my dying breath.”

She comes with my name on her lips, her whole body clenching around me. The sight of her surrendering—this fierce creature choosing to be mine—sends me over the edge after her.

After, I gather her against my chest, my hands unusually hesitant as I arrange her curves against my harder planes. She’s already drifting toward sleep, the events of the past hours finally catching up with her. My fingers hover over the bruises I’ve left on her skin, torn between fierce satisfaction and this strange new urge to soothe rather than mark.

My hands shake with the foreign desire to be gentle. To protect rather than possess. When did I learn to touch someone like they’re precious instead of just mine?

She rouses enough to trace the ring I slipped onto her finger, and my throat tightens at how naturally she seeks my touch now. Even half-asleep, she trusts me not to hurt her. My heart thumps. No, her heart, even if it beats in my chest.

“Partnership,” she mumbles against my skin. “You promised.”

My arms tighten instinctively, but I force myself to gentle my grip. This newfound tenderness feels dangerous—like weakness. It’s not, though. Not in Shiloh’s hands.

“Yes.” I stroke her hair, marveling at how something so simple can feel so much like victory. “Partners in everything.” I tighten my grip possessively. “But you’re still mine to protect.”

Her smile curves against my chest. “And I own every dark piece of you, too.”

Her words repeat in my mind as I trace the marks I’ve left on her skin. She knows what kind of monster she’s agreeing to marry. She’s seen the violence I’m capable of, the ruthless calculation, the need to possess everything in my domain. But instead of trying to change me, she channels that darkness into something productive. Uses my possessive instincts to protect rather than destroy.

Some men need to break their women to feel strong. But as I hold my sleeping warrior, I understand a deeper truth—she makes me stronger. Her submission doesn’t tame my monster. It gives it purpose.

I press a kiss to her temple, tasting victory and commitment and something dangerously close to peace. My fingers find the bruises I’ve left on her throat—visible proof that she accepts even my darkest urges. “Sleep well, hellcat.” My voice carries that of possession that usually makes her bristle, but now she just burrows closer, trusting the predator to protect his mate. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

Always. In every way that matters. The monster and the man, both equally hers.

Forever.