Page 24

For long moments, we stay pressed against the window, both breathing hard. When I finally pull out and turn her to face me, her legs give out. I catch her easily, lifting her into my arms.

“You did such a good job for me, Princess,” I murmur, carrying her to the bed. The praise brings a soft smile to her face as I lay her down on the dark sheets.

She giggles, the sound light and free in a way I rarely hear from her.

“Is this why you brought me here? To make me come until I pass out?”

I chuckle, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “I brought you here to show you what it’s like to be mine.”

“I think I’m getting the idea,” she says, stretching like a satisfied cat. The movement displays her body in a way that makes my cock stir with renewed interest, despite our recent activities.

“We’re just getting started, Princess.” I trail my fingers down her side, watching goosebumps rise in their wake. “I have two whole days to show you exactly what being mine means.”

Her eyes darken at the promise. “And what does it mean?”

I lean down, pressing my lips to the pulse point at her throat. “It means your pleasure belongs to me. Your pain belongs to me. Every gasp, every moan, every fucking breath you take while you’re here is mine.”

She shivers beneath me, her hands coming up to grip my shoulders. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I can handle it.” I nip at her collarbone, then soothe the sting with my tongue. “The question is, can you handle giving up that control?”

“With you?” She meets my gaze, her expression open and trusting. “Yes.”

The simple affirmation hits me harder than any elaborate declaration could. She’s choosing to give me something she doesn’t give anyone else. A real, complete trust. Not the performed compliance she shows her stepmother or Vega, but genuine surrender.

“Stay here,” I trace my fingers along her ribs, memorizing the texture of her skin. “I’ll be right back.”

She makes a soft sound of protest, but I’m already moving to the adjoining bathroom. I grab a warm washcloth and fill a glass with water from the tap, then snag the bag of trail mix I keep on the counter. Basic aftercare, but necessary.

When I return, she’s exactly where I left her, sprawled across my sheets like she belongs there. Because she does.

“Here.” I hand her the water first. “Drink.”

She props herself up on one elbow, accepting the glass gratefully. While she drinks, I gently clean between her thighs with the washcloth, taking care with her sensitive flesh. She hisses slightly at the contact.

“Too much?” I ask, stilling my movements.

“No, just sensitive.” She sets the empty glass on the nightstand. “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

I toss the washcloth aside and open the trail mix, selecting a few almonds and dried cranberries. “Eat these.”

“You’re bossy even during aftercare,” she observes, but takes the offered snacks.

“Get used to it.” I stretch out beside her, pulling her against my chest. “This is part of being mine, too. I take care of what belongs to me.”

She nestles into me, her head finding that perfect spot on my shoulder.

“Every time you trust me with something new, I learn more about who you really are. Not the mask you wear for everyone else, but the real Audrey.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.

“Sometimes I forget who that is. The real me, I mean. I’ve been playing a role for so long.”

“I know who she is.” I tilt her chin up so she’s looking at me. “She’s an artist who sees beauty where others miss it. She’s brave enough to chase her dreams even when everyone tells her they don’t matter. She’s passionate and wild and fucking perfect exactly as she is.”

Tears gather in her eyes, and I brush them away with my thumb.

“You can’t make me cry after making me come that hard. It’s against the rules.”

“My rules,” I remind her. “I make them, I can break them.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why does everyone call you Reign?”

My body tenses involuntarily.

Of all the questions she could ask, this one cuts straight to the core of who I became in the desert. The man who earned that name feels like a stranger sometimes, and other times he’s so close to the surface I can taste the sand and blood.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she says quickly, sensing my hesitation.

“No, you should know.” I shift us so we’re facing each other, needing to see her face when I tell this story. “It happened in Kandahar. My second deployment.”

Her hand finds mine, squeezing gently. The simple touch grounds me as memories flood back.

“There was this kid who came to our outpost. Amara. Ten years old, maybe eleven. Skinny as a rail but tough as nails.” A ghost of a smile crosses my face. “She’d show up every few days selling cigarettes and candy bars. Spoke better English than half my squad.”

“You got close to her?”

“We all did. Martinez taught her card tricks. Johnson shared his care packages. Even our hardass sergeant would slip her extra MREs.” I stare at the ceiling, seeing her gap-toothed grin instead of wooden beams. “Command kept telling us to maintain distance from locals, but Amara... She was just a kid trying to survive.”

Audrey stays silent, her thumb stroking over my knuckles.

“One week, she didn’t show. First day, we figured she was sick.

Second day, maybe trouble at home. By the fourth day, we knew something was wrong.

” My jaw clenches at the memory. “Intel finally came through. Local militia grabbed her and her little brother. Thought they were passing information to us.”

“Oh, no,” Audrey breathes.

“By the time we got the intel, her brother was already dead.” The words taste like ash. “Seven years old. They killed a seven-year-old boy for talking to Americans.”

Her hand tightens on mine, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“I went to my CO. Begged for permission to mount a rescue op. He said no. Too risky. Potential diplomatic incident. Couldn’t justify resources for one local national.

” I feel the old rage building, the same fury that consumed me that night.

“I stood in his office and listened to him write off a little girl’s life like she was collateral damage. ”

“What did you do?”

“What I had to.” I meet her eyes, wanting her to understand. “I took four volunteers. Guys who loved that kid as much as I did. We went in at 0200, completely dark.”

The compound materializes in my mind—low walls, two guards, the main building where intel said they were holding her. I can still smell the diesel fuel and goat shit, feel the weight of my gear, hear Crutchfield’s breathing in my earpiece.

“We found her in a back room.” My voice goes flat, clinical. It’s the only way to tell this part. “What they’d done to her... Christ, Audrey. She was ten years old.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“She was breathing. Barely, but breathing.” I force myself to continue.

“The men who did it were in the next room. Three of them, playing cards like they hadn’t just tortured a child.

We got her out. But first...” My hand clenches involuntarily.

“First, I made sure every motherfucker in that compound knew exactly what happens when you hurt kids on my watch. Afterward, people on my in squad started calling me Reign. The nickname stuck after that.”

“Did she survive? Amara?”

“She did. Medevac got her out, multiple surgeries stateside. Last I heard, she was living with an aunt in California. Wants to be a doctor.” I manage a real smile this time. “She sends Christmas cards. Calls me Uncle Jackson.”

Audrey cups my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. “You saved her life.”

“I was too late to save her childhood.” The guilt I carry surfaces briefly. “Too late for her brother.”

“You did what no one else would do. You chose her life over orders, over your career, over your own safety.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “That’s who you are, Reign. Someone who protects the innocent no matter the cost.”

“Is that who you see?”

“It’s who you’ve shown me. From the first night in San Diego when you made sure I was safe, to building me a studio, to right now.” She presses her forehead to mine. “You reign over what’s yours. And you protect it fiercely.”

The understanding in her voice undoes something inside me. She doesn’t see a killer or a soldier who went too far. She sees a protector. Someone who’ll burn down the world for those who matter.

“You matter, Audrey.” The words come out rough with emotion. “You’re under my protection now. And I’ll rain down destruction on anyone who tries to hurt you.”

“Even Gio?”

“Especially Gio.” I let her see the promise in my eyes. “I don’t care about his connections or threats. You’re mine now.”

She kisses me softly, a gentle contrast to our earlier passion. “I’ve never had someone willing to fight for me before.”

“Get used to it.” I roll onto my back, pulling her on top of me. “Because I don’t do anything halfway. When I claim something, I defend it with everything I have.”

When we finally break apart, she’s smiling—a real smile that transforms her face, makes her look younger, freer. This is who she is beneath the performance, and fuck if I won’t do everything in my power to protect that.

“Ready for round two?” I ask, already hardening again with her weight in my lap.

“Already?” She shifts deliberately, grinding against me. “Someone’s eager.”

“Princess, I’ve been hard since the moment you walked into my bedroom. The first round just took the edge off.”

Her eyes widen, then darken with renewed desire. “Show me.”

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” I flip her onto her back, caging her beneath me. “What happened to my obedient girl who calls me sir?”

“Maybe she needs more convincing,” she challenges, wrapping her legs around my waist.

I grin, dark and promising. “Careful what you wish for, Princess. I’ve got all weekend. We’re just getting started.”