Page 8 of Monstrosity (Raiders of Valhalla MC: New Blood #5)

"Good thing I'm not sane." I try for lightness, but his expression remains serious. "Rio, do you want me to leave?"

"No." The word comes out sharp, immediate. "God help me, no. I want you here where I can protect you. Where I can—" He stops himself.

"Where you can what?"

"Where I can pretend for a little while that you're mine." The admission seems to cost him. "That this is our life, our family. That I get to keep you."

"You do get to keep me," I whisper. "If you want me."

He kisses me again, softer this time but no less intense. "I want you more than I've wanted anything in my entire life. That's the problem."

"That's not a problem." I wind my arms around his neck. "That's the solution."

His phone rings—an actual call this time.

He answers without letting me go.

"Yeah?" A pause. "How many?"

Another pause. "No, stay on them. I want to know the second they do anything besides circle."

He hangs up. "Five cars now. They're making a statement."

"What kind of statement?"

"That they can get to you whenever they want." His arms tighten around me. "But they're wrong. I won't let them hurt you."

"I know." And I do. I can see it in every line of his body, the absolute certainty that he'll die before letting anything happen to me. "So, what do we do now?"

He's quiet for a moment, thinking. "Now we open that second bottle of wine, and you let me tell you exactly how this is going to go."

Twenty minutes later, we're back at the kitchen table with fresh glasses and the weight of reality between us.

Rio's explained the security measures—brothers rotating shifts outside, panic buttons being installed tomorrow, new protocols for my daily routines.

"I hate this," I admit. "Not the danger—I mean, I hate that too—but the idea of living in fear. Of letting them dictate how we live our lives."

"It's temporary," he assures me. "Just until we handle the situation."

"Handle it how?"

He's quiet for a long moment. "You don't want to know the specifics."

He's right. I don't. But I need to understand what I'm signing up for. "Will you have to kill people?"

"Probably."

The casual certainty should horrify me.

Instead, I find myself grateful for his honesty. "To protect us?"

"I'd burn the whole world down to protect you and the girls," he says simply. "That's not a metaphor, Dasha. That's a promise."

I take a sip of wine, processing this. "I should probably be more bothered by that."

"Why aren't you?"

"Because I know you." I meet his eyes. "I know you're a good man who does bad things to protect good people. I know you'd never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. And I know that underneath all that violence, you're just a dad who wants his family safe."

"You see too much good in me."

"No," I correct. "I see exactly who you are. And I love all of it."

The words hang between us, heavy with meaning.

His expression shifts through several emotions—surprise, fear, hope, and finally something that looks like awe.

"Dasha—"

"I love you," I repeat, stronger this time. "I've loved you for years, maybe longer. And I know the timing is terrible and the situation is complicated, but I'm tired of pretending otherwise."

He's out of his chair before I can blink, pulling me up and into his arms. "Say it again."

"I love you, Rio."

He kisses me like he's trying to breathe me in, desperate and claiming.

When we break apart, we're both panting.

"I love you too," he says roughly. "God help me, I love you so much it terrifies me."

"Good." I smile, feeling lighter despite everything. "Now what are we going to do about it?"

His answer is to kiss me again, backing me against the wall.

This time there's intent behind it, promise and heat and two years or possibly more of pent-up desire.

His hands skim my sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts through my thin shirt, and I arch into him with a gasp.

"The girls," I manage when he moves to my throat.

"Sound asleep." He nips at my pulse point. "I checked."

"Your phone?—"

"Can wait." He lifts me suddenly, setting me on the counter. "Everything can wait. I need—" He pauses, breathing hard. "Tell me to stop if this isn't what you want."

"Don't you dare stop," I breathe, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He groans, capturing my mouth again.

His hands are everywhere—tangling in my hair, skimming my thighs, mapping every curve like he's trying to memorize me by touch.

I give as good as I get, finally able to explore the body I've been dreaming about for months.

The guest room—my room—is familiar and safe, and when Rio lays me on the bed, looking down at me with eyes gone black with want, I've never felt more desired.

"You're sure?" he asks one more time.

Instead of answering, I pull my shirt over my head.

His control snaps. "Jesus Christ, Dasha."

His eyes devour me, taking in the black lace bra I definitely didn't plan on him seeing tonight.

Who am I kidding? I've been wearing nice underwear for months, just in case.

"You're fucking perfect," he growls, then his mouth is on me, hot and demanding.

He kisses down my throat, across my collarbone, teeth grazing the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

I arch against him, nails digging into his shoulders as he unhooks my bra with one hand—a skill that shouldn't be as hot as it is.

"Rio," I gasp when his mouth finds my breast, tongue circling before teeth graze just hard enough to make me see stars.

"I've thought about this," he confesses against my skin, hands skimming down my sides. "Every fucking morning when you're in my kitchen. Every time you bend over to help the girls with their shoes. Christ, Dasha, do you know what you do to me?"

"Show me," I challenge, and his eyes flash dangerously.

He strips me efficiently, reverent and hungry all at once.

When his fingers find me already wet and ready, we both groan.

"So fucking wet," he murmurs, working me with skilled fingers while his mouth continues its assault on my senses. "Is this for me, baby?"

"Only you," I manage, hips rocking against his hand. "Always you."

He adds another finger, curling just right, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

The last thing we need is to wake the girls, but God, he's making it difficult to stay quiet.

"Let me taste you," he says, already moving down my body.

"Rio, I need?—"

"I know what you need." He settles between my thighs, looking up at me with dark eyes full of promise. "Been wanting to do this for fucking years."

The first touch of his tongue makes me arch off the bed.

He holds my hips steady, devouring me like a man starved.

His tongue circles my clit before sucking gently, and I have to fist my hands in the sheets to stay grounded.

"So sweet," he murmurs against me. "Could do this for hours."

"Please," I beg, already embarrassingly close. "Rio, please, I need?—"

He slides two fingers inside me while his tongue works my clit, and I shatter.

The orgasm rolls through me in waves, and I have to press a pillow over my face to muffle my cries.

He works me through it, drawing out every aftershock until I'm boneless and panting.

"Beautiful," he says, kissing his way back up my body. "But I'm not done with you yet."

I reach for his jeans, needing to touch him.

He helps me push them down, and when I wrap my hand around him, he drops his forehead to mine with a groan.

"Fuck, your hand feels good."

"I can make it feel better," I offer, but he catches my wrist.

"Later. Right now, I need to be inside you." He positions himself at my entrance, eyes locked on mine. "Tell me you want this."

"I want you," I breathe. "All of you. Please, Rio."

He pushes inside slowly, stretching me perfectly, and we both go still when he's fully seated.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Dasha?—"

"I know," I gasp. "I know."

He starts to move, slow and deep, hitting spots inside me I didn't know existed.

I wrap my legs around his waist, changing the angle, and we both moan.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans, picking up the pace. "So tight, so perfect. Made for me."

"Yours," I agree, nails raking down his back. "Just yours."

His thrusts become harder, more demanding, and I meet him stroke for stroke.

The headboard starts to tap against the wall, and he reaches up to brace it with one hand while the other finds my clit.

"Need you to come again," he commands. "Want to feel you squeeze my cock."

His filthy words combined with his skilled fingers push me over the edge.

I bite his shoulder to muffle my scream as I come, clenching around him.

"Fuck, yes," he groans. "Just like that, baby. So fucking perfect."

His rhythm falters, and I know he's close.

I pull his head down, whisper in his ear, "Come for me, Rio. Want to feel you."

He buries his face in my neck, groaning my name as he finds his release.

I can feel him pulsing inside me, and it triggers another mini-orgasm that leaves me trembling.

We stay locked together for long moments, both breathing hard.

When he finally lifts his head, the look in his eyes steals my breath—possessive and tender and completely wrecked.

"I love you," he says roughly. "So fucking much."

"I love you too," I whisper, touching his face.

He kisses me soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the passion of moments before.

When he carefully pulls out and settles beside me, I curl into him immediately.

"So," I say eventually, still catching my breath. "That happened."

He laughs, pressing a kiss to my hair. "About fuckin’ time."

"Years of foreplay will do that."

"Worth the wait?"

I prop myself up to look at him. "Definitely worth the wait."

His expression goes serious again. "I meant what I said. About keeping you safe. About burning the world down. I need you to understand what you're signing up for."

"I understand." I trace the tattoo on his chest—a skull, beautifully detailed. "I'm not naive, Rio. I know your world is dangerous. I know there will be nights you come home bloody, days when we have to look over our shoulders. But I also know that you're worth it. This family is worth it."

"Our family," he corrects softly.

"Our family," I agree, and the words feel like a vow.

His phone buzzes from the kitchen where we left it.

Then the house phone rings.

Then buzzes again.

"You should probably get that," I say reluctantly.

He kisses me once more, deep and possessive, before pulling on his jeans. "Don't move."

I watch him go, admiring the view, then burrow into the blankets that smell like us.

Like new beginnings forged in this craziness.

He returns a few minutes later, expression grim. "They're gone. Pulled out about ten minutes ago."

"That's good, right?"

"Maybe." He sits on the edge of the bed. "Or they were just making sure we knew they could get close. Wanted to fuck with our heads."

"Well, it's not working," I declare, sitting up and letting the sheet pool at my waist. "We're not going to live in fear."

His eyes darken again, distracted by my state of undress. "No?"

"No." I crawl toward him. "We're going to be smart and careful, but we're not going to let them win by making us afraid to live our lives."

"Our lives," he repeats, pulling me into his lap. "I like the sound of that."

"Good. Because you're stuck with me now."

"Dasha?" He frames my face with his hands. "There's no going back from this. Once you're mine, you're mine forever. I don't do it halfway, and I don't share well."

"I wouldn't want you any other way," I assure him. "I'm yours, Rio. Have been for a while now."

He kisses me again, slow and thorough, and I can feel his body responding to mine.

But before things can progress, we hear a small voice from down the hall.

"Daddy?"

We freeze. It's Cali, sounding sleepy and confused.

"Shit," Rio mutters, helping me off his lap. "I'll go check on her."

"I'll come with you," I say, already pulling on his discarded t-shirt and my sleep shorts.

He looks at me in his shirt and has to visibly collect himself. "You're going to be the death of me."

"But what a way to go," I tease.

We find Cali standing in the hallway, rubbing her eyes with one small fist. "I had a bad dream," she mumbles.

Rio scoops her up immediately. "It's okay, baby girl. Daddy's here."

"Dasha too?" She reaches for me, and my heart melts.

"Dasha too," I confirm, smoothing her dark hair. "Want to tell us about the dream?"

She shakes her head, burrowing into Rio's shoulder. "Just want cuddles."

"Cuddles we can do," Rio says. "Back to bed?"

"Big bed," she negotiates sleepily. "With you and Dasha."

Rio looks at me, questioning.

It's a big step, having her in bed with us, acknowledging this new dynamic even to a sleepy five-year-old.

"Big bed it is," I agree, because how can I say no to that little face?

We settle into Rio's room—a space I've cleaned but never slept in.

Cali curls between us, already drifting back to sleep, one hand clutching Rio's shirt and the other holding mine.

"This okay?" Rio whispers over her head.

"Perfect," I whisper back.

And despite everything—the danger, the uncertainty, the men who want to hurt us—in this moment, it really is perfect.

This is my family now, officially.

Rio reaches over Cali to take my hand, lacing our fingers together.

In the darkness, with his daughter safe between us and brothers standing guard outside, I've never felt more protected or more sure of my choices.

Tomorrow we'll deal with the cartel and the danger and all the complications of merging our lives.

But tonight, we're just a family, together and whole.

"I love you," I whisper into the darkness.

"I love you, too," he whispers back. "Both of you. All of us."

And that's how I fall asleep on the most dangerous and most perfect night of my life—hand in hand with the man I love, his daughter safe between us, finally where I belong.