Page 31 of Ruined by My Ex’s Dad (Silver Fox Obsession #2)

"Harder," she demanded, nails digging into my shoulders. "I want to feel you tomorrow. I want to remember this."

The words shattered what remained of my restraint. I gripped her hips, controlling her movements as I drove into her with punishing intensity. She threw her head back, spine arching, offering herself completely to my possession.

"Come for me," I commanded, feeling her begin to tighten around me. "I need to feel you come apart. Need to know this is real."

"It's real," she promised, voice breaking as her climax built.

"We're real. Lucas—I love you."

Those three words, repeated with such raw honesty, triggered my own release. I claimed her mouth, swallowing her cries as she came apart around me, her inner muscles clenching in waves that pulled my own orgasm from the very core of me.

We clung to each other as the aftershocks subsided, trembling and gasping, completely undone.

As our breathing gradually steadied, she remained draped against me, her head on my shoulder, fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest beneath my shirt.

"We should talk about the practical things," she murmured. "Miles. The company. How do we make this work?”

"We will," I agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"But first, you're staying in San Francisco. No more talk of New York."

She lifted her head to look at me, something soft and determined in her expression.

"I'm staying. My life is here. You're here." She paused.

"Though we'll need to be strategic about how we handle everything else."

Relief flooded through me, so powerful it was almost overwhelming.

"We'll figure it out. Whatever obstacles arise, we'll find solutions."

She nodded, then smiled—a genuine, unguarded expression that made warmth unfurl in my chest.

"Your place?" she suggested. "I want a proper bed for what I have in mind next."

The promise in her voice sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through me.

"My place," I confirmed, helping her shift back to the passenger seat with reluctant practicality.

As we drove through the night, her hand in mine, I found myself thinking about permanence. About building something that could withstand whatever challenges awaited. About protecting what we'd found against any force that might threaten it.

"There's something I want you to know," I said as we pulled into my driveway. "About my intentions. About how serious I am about us."

She turned to face me, curious. "What kind of something?"

"I'm going to call my attorney tomorrow. Make some changes to my personal arrangements. Create protections for you—for us—against any potential complications that might arise."

Her eyebrows rose.

"What kind of protections?"

"Financial security. Legal safeguards. Insurance against anyone—including my own son—using your connection to me against you professionally." I lifted our joined hands, pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"I won't have you vulnerable because of me."

Something flickered across her face—surprise, perhaps a touch of wariness.

"Lucas, that's not necessary?—"

"It is to me," I interrupted gently.

"I'm forty-seven years old, Savannah. I've built an empire, accumulated more wealth than I could spend in three lifetimes. What's the point of any of it if I can't use it to protect the woman I love?"

She studied my face for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

"Okay. If it gives you peace of mind."

"It does." I brought her hand to my lips again.

"More than you know."

Later, after I'd shown her exactly how thoroughly I intended to claim every inch of her in the privacy of my bedroom, after she'd fallen asleep in my arms with her hair spread across my chest, I slipped away to my office.

The call to Graham was brief, professional, and to the point.

"I need you to create a trust," I told my attorney. "Separate from all existing family structures. Something that can't be contested or controlled by anyone but me."

"What's the purpose of this trust?" Graham asked, his voice devoid of surprise, despite the unusual hour.

"Protection. Security. For someone who's become... essential to me."

The pause that followed spoke volumes—Graham had handled my business dealings and every major personal decision for twenty years. He'd never heard me talk about another person this way.

"I understand," he said finally.

"I'll have preliminary documents ready by tomorrow afternoon."

After ending the call, I sat in the darkness of my office, city lights glittering beyond the windows. In my bedroom, Savannah slept peacefully, trusting, unaware of the steps I was taking to ensure her security.

It was unprecedented. Potentially reckless by my usual standards. The first major financial decision I'd ever made based purely on emotion rather than careful analysis.

And yet it felt necessary. Essential. The foundation of something I hadn't realized I wanted until she'd crashed into my carefully ordered life.

A future that included her. Protected her. Bound her to me in ways that transcended the physical connection we'd established.

You were made for me. The words had emerged spontaneously that first night, yet contained a truth I was only beginning to understand. Whatever existed between us was rare, worth risking everything to preserve.

Even if that meant crossing boundaries I'd once considered inviolable.

Even if it meant acknowledging that, for the first time in decades, I was no longer fully in control.

As I returned to bed, sliding carefully beneath the covers beside her warm, sleeping form, I felt something I'd forgotten could exist—not just satisfaction or contentment, but a sense of rightness. Of completion.

She stirred as I gathered her against me, murmuring my name in her sleep, unconsciously molding herself to fit against my body as if she belonged there.

Because she did belong there. In my bed, in my life, in the future, I was already beginning to construct around her presence.

Tomorrow would bring challenges—Miles, the company, the inevitable complications of our relationship becoming public.

But tonight, with Savannah safe in my arms and plans already in motion to protect what we'd built, I allowed myself to believe that this time, love might actually conquer all.

Even for a man who had never believed in fairy tales.