Page 97 of Restitution

His lips are so soft beneath my skin, and the tip of his tongue pokes out, swiping at my fingertips. I snatch my hand away at the electricity flowing through it.

He’s not wearing his face covering. I’m glad; I don’t want him to hide from me. When I kissed his scar before, I was showing Kade that it’s a part of him, and I love all parts of him. Even the darker ones. I’ll always love those parts of him.

It’s not ugly or something that should be hidden. It shows his courage, how he stopped his sister from being tortured by cutting himself and surviving the punishment.

Nothing about Kade scares me. Even if he did chase me down a highway on a motorbike and point a gun in my face, shoot at me, finger me while covered in blood, along with all the other messed-up things he’s done. He doesn’t scare me. That side – thescary, vicious and extremely dangerous side – is the one everyone sees, but I get to see a different Kade.

The real Kade.

The one who went on holiday with me. Got drunk and sang karaoke, swam in the sea and kissed me under the sunset. He’s the one who sent me good morning and goodnight texts every day without fail, and we shared all of our firsts.

Everything he’s done in his life – kill, fuck, torture – he did to protect those he loved. Including me.

I almost smile, elated deep within as butterflies bloom, as I look into the eyes of the only person I want to be with. He’s the only person I’ve ever wanted to be with.

Kade Mitchell loves me.

I’m his. And he’s mine.

My lungs stop working as his other hand comes to rest on my hip, walking me back until I bump into the desk. I pull myself on top of it without thinking, my dress riding up my thighs as I open them wide enough for him to slot himself between them.

I pull him by the shirt, bringing him closer to me, until I feel every bit of his warmth.

“Your little speech to my mother isn’t happening. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he says, making my body sing as he brings his mouth to my ear and lowers his voice. “I don’t deserve to even be in your fucking company.”

Shivers overwhelm me as he presses a kiss against my heated skin.

“But I want you. I want everything you’ll give to me. I want you around me, beneath me, on top of me.”

My chest rises and falls as he sucks on the skin behind my ear then bites at my lobe, bringing it lightly between his teeth.

“I tried so hard to keep my distance, Stacey, but I can’t do it anymore.”

“Wait.” My back arches, and I let go of his shirt to lean back on the desk. “You might push it too far and seize again.”

He scoffs and lowers his forehead to my shoulder, shaking his head. “I’m not going to let some neurological bullshit passed down from my father stop me from getting what I want.”

I’m not quite sure if that’s accurate, but I don’t want to correct him.

I raise a brow as he looks up. “And what is it you want?”

“You. I want to be the person you think of when you wake up, when you go to sleep, when you slide your hand between your legs and find pleasure.”

His hands have a bruising grip on my trembling thighs as he drags his hungry, hooded gaze down the length of my body. He’s trying to control himself.

“What else?”

He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth then holds it between his teeth as my dress slides further up my thighs, exposing my definitely soaked underwear.

“Your body. I want to be the only person to touch, kiss and fuck you. I want to claim all your emotions. Fear. Anger. Misery. Happiness. Love.” He presses his thumb against my clit through my underwear, and I let out a soft moan from the abrupt sensation. “I want your heart, every single fucking fragment that I’ve broken over the years. I have your past and your present, and I want to be a selfish asshole and have your future.”

“You already have it,” I breathe, letting out a quiet whimper as he pinches my clit. I lean further back, my palms pressing intothe desk as he circles, and feel him harden against my inner thigh. “You have all of it.”

“The monster in me wants you to be terrified. I want you to run to the other side of the world again and stay there.” He pulls his thumb away, leaving me panting with need. “I want you to be scared of me.”

I tip my chin as I sit up, my arms wrapping around his shoulders slowly, taking in the stiff muscles beneath my touch. “I’ll never be scared of you,” I say quietly, my voice soft and honest. “Never.”

My hands slide down to his sides and snake around his waist, and my eyes widen when I feel a gun at the back of his waistband.