Page 5

Kyle

T he numbness had started creeping in, a slow, insidious tingle spreading from my thighs to my core as I lay stretched along the thick branch of the tree I’d chosen for the job. In theory, it had seemed like a good pick—solid, sturdy, plenty of cover. But in practice, the bark was rough, digging into my ribs, and the pressure against my pelvis was becoming borderline unbearable.

I shifted slightly, trying to redistribute my weight, but there was no escaping the discomfort. My vagina was practically screaming at me now, a steady pulse of protest that was hard to ignore. I’d spent hours lying on the ground before, elbows pressing into unforgiving dirt, neck cramping, waiting for the perfect shot. But at least then, I could adjust, do my usual focus drills. At least then, I wasn’t balanced precariously in a goddamn tree.

Still, I had to count my blessings. No scorpions skittering around my arms, no blistering sun roasting my back. It could be worse. It had been worse. The joke among my team was that we could endure just about anything—bullets flying, wounds bleeding, bones aching—but swamp ass? Swamp ass was the true enemy. It led to swamp crack, and that was a nightmare no one wanted to deal with when you had to lie still for hours or trek through a hellscape of heat and sand.

The tiny earpiece crackled to life, and Preacher’s voice came through, smooth and controlled, as always.

“On my signal. Kyle, take two. Hunter, proceed west, we’ll take east. Jagger, hit north. Duke, south.”

Hunter and I had been skeptical when Preacher first laid out the plan, but after running through the options, we’d both agreed it was the best way forward. Even if it stung to follow orders instead of calling the shots myself, Perry’s safety was the priority.

I reached up, pressing my throat mic twice in acknowledgment. A low-pitched tone confirmed my response, and then I heard the faintest shuffle of movement as my team advanced.

Two guards stood at the front of the compound, armed to the teeth and oblivious to the fact that they were already dead men walking. My job was simple—take them out and provide cover.

Just as I adjusted my sight, a cricket landed on my forearm, its tiny legs prickling against my skin. I ignored it, exhaling slowly, steadying my shot. The targets were a joke. Heavily armed, sure, but if you were running an operation like this and wanted to stay under the radar, maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be parading around with RPGs strapped to your back and firing random shots into the air like an action movie reject. Fucking amateurs.

I tapped out three signals to warn my team: shots incoming. Then, I squeezed the trigger.

The first man went down without a sound. The second, sensing something was off, reached for his radio, but my bullet found him before he could press the button.

Three taps again. All clear.

But something felt off. Only two guards, that didn’t sit right. This compound had been heavily protected before, why the downgrade?

I filed the thought away and refocused on my scope, tracking the teams as they moved. Preacher and his crew disappeared into the shadows, smooth and efficient. Hunter and Blake reached a door, and instead of the usual breach tactics, they held up a foam soccer ball, one of our classic distractions. The moment it rolled forward, shots rang out from inside.

Through my earpiece, I heard the same report from every team. Resistance was high.

The cricket moved, its tiny body brushing against my skin, but I didn’t have time to flick it away. My scope caught a figure in dark clothing moving toward Preacher’s team. No insignia, no familiar markings. But the sword strapped to their side, that was new. None of our people carried swords.

The unknown reached for a gun, lining up their shot on Preacher’s exposed back. I exhaled, focused, fired, and the figure crumpled to the ground.

“Thanks,” Preacher’s voice came through, low and even.

I pressed my mic once in response. No distractions. No small talk. Just the job.

Gunfire erupted from inside the building as the teams breached. I kept my scope trained on their movements, watching as Hunter’s squad navigated forward with practiced precision. Across the compound, Jagger’s team engaged incoming hostiles, six of them pushing toward his position. One by one, the teams made it inside. The real fight was just beginning, and I was ready.

The sound of a baby crying sent an icy chill down my spine, and my grip on the rifle tightened instinctively.

We had the baby.

That should’ve been the end of it, the mission accomplished, and the relief setting in. But something was wrong.

“What the fuck?” someone shouted through the comms, voice sharp with disbelief. A pit formed in my stomach.

“We have a negative on the mark,” Hunter’s voice came through, tight and controlled. Too controlled.

One by one, the rest of the teams checked in with the same report.

No mark.

Shit.

The warehouse was dimly lit, the air thick with the stale scent of unwashed bodies and spilled gasoline. Three kids huddled together near the far wall, their wide, terrified eyes flicking between us. Hunter’s team had found them inside, and now, standing in front of them, I listened as they described a woman. A woman who sounded a hell of a lot like Bo.

My stomach churned.

Bo had been a friend, a close one. She’d worked alongside my team, running missions with her own crew. We’d trusted her. Then, six months ago, she vanished—no word, no trace, nothing. And now, here she was, not just alive but apparently tangled up in something I never would’ve imagined.

I refused to believe it. Bo wouldn't be involved in trafficking, least of all with kids.

Before I could even start forming an explanation, Mace—one of Hunter’s friends—exploded. His face had gone pale, his breath short and ragged. Shoving his phone into our faces, he pulled up a photo of two women—his sister and his girlfriend.

What the fuck was going on?

Preacher’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “We were set up. They knew.”

The words sent a ripple of unease through all of us.

“How?” Hunter’s voice was sharp, demanding. He wasn’t just angry, he was already strategizing. Already figuring out where the cracks in our intel were.

I couldn’t hold this back. Not now.

“I think I have the answer to that,” I muttered, pulling out my phone. My pulse hammered in my ears as I held up the screen, showing them the message I’d received while I’d been in the tree.

A photo. A blonde woman holding Perry. He was asleep, cradled in her arms like he belonged there. Silence fell over the room.

Noah, Hunter’s second-in-command, stared at the screen, his disbelief thick in his voice. “Is that Bo?”

We all knew the history between him and Bo, the tension that had lingered for years. The weight of it was written all over his face now—shock, betrayal, something raw and ugly brewing beneath it. No one answered him because no one needed to.

Before we could, Duke spoke, and what he said shattered whatever control we had left.

“It’s not what you think,” he said. “She’s with me.”

The world tilted for a second.

Hunter’s entire body went rigid. “What?”

The room bristled with energy—dangerous and volatile.

Blake barely managed to grab Noah in time before he lunged at Duke, his hands itching to wrap around his throat.

“And you didn’t fucking think to mention this?” Hunter roared. “Not once? There wasn’t a single goddamn moment where it crossed your mind that this might bemotherfucking vitalinformation?”

Normally, I had Duke’s back, no matter what. Not this time. This time, I just stood there, arms crossed, watching as Noah strained against Blake’s hold. His breathing was ragged, his fury unchecked.

Hunter wasn’t as patient.

He moved past Noah and didn’t hesitate. His fist connected with Duke’s jaw so hard, the impact echoed in the space like a gunshot.

Duke hit the ground, and the kids—already shaken—burst into frightened sobs.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, motioning for a few of our team to get the kids out of here. They needed to be away from this mess.

The rest of us stayed, because there was no walking away from this disaster.

Duke groaned, slowly pushing himself up. Blood dripped from his lip as he moved his jaw, testing it.

Still, no one spoke. Because whatever the fuck had just happened, whatever this meant for all of us, was only the beginning.

“She can’t be compromised. She’s finding locations for us,” Duke’s voice was firm, steady, but there was an edge to it, something tight beneath the surface.

Hunter wasn’t having it. He shot to his feet, fists clenched at his sides like he was barely restraining himself. “But you knew she was in there. You knew she’d get the mark and retreat.”

Duke didn’t flinch, just exhaled sharply and dusted himself off. “She’s not there to intercept and retrieve,” he muttered, brushing dirt from his jeans. “She’s there tofindand pass the locations back to us. If she intervenes, her cover is blown. She’d be in danger, as would the innocents involved.” His voice dropped slightly on that last part, his meaning clear.

It made sense. Logically and tactically—it was actually a huge advantage to have someone on the inside. But logic didn’t mean shit when emotions were running this high.

Noah wasn’t buying it.

“She could be killed!” he snapped.

I snorted. If there was one person who didn’t need anyone worrying about her, it was Bo. She was more than capable of taking care of herself.

Duke smirked slightly, as if he’d been expecting that reaction from me. “You don’t actually believe that any more than I do,” he said, then nodded toward me. “That woman could give my beautiful niece a run for her money.”

I rolled my eyes, snorting again, but didn’t argue. Nofuckingway, not when he was telling the truth.

Noah wasn’t done. He stalked right up to Duke, practically vibrating with fury. “If anything happens to her, you son of a bitch,” he spat, his voice low and lethal, “I willfucking end youmyself.”

And just like that, he turned and stormed off, heading straight for the bikes.

I exhaled, watching the tension simmering in the air. I hadn’t driven my bike to this location. I’d taken an SUV instead, expecting to have Perry in it when we left. Instead, I had three kids, an unexpected bonus. And now, I was begging every higher power that Bo had Perry somewhere safe, because if she didn’t… Fuck .

I turned my attention back to Mace, who looked about two seconds from combusting. His anger wasn’t just a simmer, it was volcanic. His girlfriend and his sister were tangled in this mess, and his body was coiled tight, a raw nerve waiting to snap.

I stepped toward him, catching his attention before he could say something reckless.

“I won’t let you down,” I said, my voice firm. “You have me.”

Mace met my eyes, searching them, measuring. Slowly, I watched the shift, the emotion bleeding out, the rage dulling into something cold, something controlled. It was the art of war, the tactic we all learned early on—shut it down. Remove the emotion. Focus on facts. Strike with precision.

His expression settled into the same blank neutrality I was wearing. Good. He’d still swing between logic and emotion in the coming hours, but for now, he could focus on being a warrior. Not a brother. Not a lover.

I gave him a brief nod, then turned back toward the SUV. We had a job to do.

JAGGER

The kids were safe, dropped off with the authorities, and the necessary reports filed. One of Kyle and Hunter’s contacts had taken over from there. The whole time, the guy had referred to her asKai, though, and it was eating at me. I knew I had to get used to it, but to me, Kai was separate from the woman standing in front of me.

Kyle had always carried a masculine name. She owned it. She made it work. It had belonged to her grandfather—a man she idolized. Jagger had given it to her, and itfit.

But Kai? Kai felt… wrong. Like it didn’t belong to her. Like it was a shell, a shadow of who she really was. I doubted I’d ever call her that.

We were driving toward Mace’s town when she suddenly signaled for us to pull over. The second we did, she broke the news, Perry had been found in thesamepark where she’d been snatched. A fuckingnotehad been left with her, saying the kidnapper had suffered a moment of madness—grief-driven, fueled by the death of their own child. A bullshit apology.

But the real kicker? The authorities were covering it up. TheSenatorwas pushing for harsher penalties and demanding more power to fight trafficking. If the public knew just how out of control the situation really was, they’d panic, and the government would look weak. They knew this, so, they swept it under the rug.

We were still stewing over it when Hunter’s phone rang. It was his dad. And the news was the kind that made the blood in my veins go ice-cold. His woman—Piper—had been taken and a photo had already been sent, just like with Mace’s woman and sister.

A single message beneath it.

"Tick tock."

Hunter lost hisshit, and it took everything we had to bring him back.

Now, we were holed up in a run-down motel, the walls thin, the air thick with tension.

Mace, Hunter, and Preacher were in the middle of a heated discussion—or maybe a better word wasexplosion.They were shouting, strategizing, barely keeping it together.

I’d seen a lot in my life. I’d watched men die in front of me, their last breaths rattling in their lungs. I’d seen women brutalized, kids beaten, soldiers crack under pressure. But this? Seeingthemlose control? Seeing Preacher—the man who had always been our rock—looking like he had no answers? What I was feeling right now was a different kind of fear and anger.

One I didn’t ever want to feel again.

Mace’s voice rose again, another yell, another flare of rage, then Kyle stepped forward.

And just like that—she took control.

“Data,” she spoke into her cell, voice sharp, no room for argument. “Look into the feeds. Search specifically for any signals near the compound and the Valiant compound. Find us the link.”

She turned to Hunter, her gaze firm, steady.

“I’ve made contact with Bo,” she said. “I’m waiting for her to return the request.”

And just like that, the room shifted, becausenowwe had a lead. And if there was one thing we were good at—it was hunting down our enemies.

Coleman, one of Mace’s old friends, stepped into the center of the room, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding. Former military, now running a high-end security company, the man was a walking weapon—calm, lethal, efficient. If he was involved, it meant we had resources on our side that could turn the tide.

“I’ve got my people searching for Mace’s sister and his woman,” he updated us, his voice steady but edged with urgency.

A ripple of tension passed through the room, everyone processing what that meant.

But Preacher wasn’t done. He folded his arms, his eyes cold and calculating as he addressed the real issue gnawing at the rest of us. “We need to find the rat too.”

That hit differently. We all knew it. We allfeltit.

Someone in my MC had betrayed us. A mole working with these fuckers, feeding them intel, and putting our people in danger. That truth burned beneath my skin, raw and festering. It wasn’t just a breach of trust, it was a death sentence. Whoever they were, I wanted them found. I wanted them to understandexactlyhow rats were rewarded by the Knights MC.

Hunter finally snapped.

“You’ll fucking excuse me,” he snarled, stepping right into Preacher’s space, “if I don’t make that one of mypriorities. My woman iswho knows fucking where.Mace’s woman and sister are missing too. We don’t know what thefucking plans are for them.”

His voice was a roar, his fury unchecked. Not many men got away with speaking to Preacher like that and lived to tell the tale. I saw my President’s jaw tick, his fingers curling into fists at his sides as he visibly restrained himself.

Hunter wasn’t done.

“Your rat,” he spat, “isyourproblem.” Then he turned on his heel and stormed out.

The silence left in his wake was suffocating.

I flicked a glance toward Kyle. She sat there, watching it all unfold, her face blank, completely unreadable, but I was starting to pick up on her tells. I’d seen her calm Mace down before by stripping all emotion from her expression. It was a tactic I knew well—removing feeling to stay sharp.

But she wastoogood at it, too closed off. And it bugged the shit out of me. I understood shutting things down in moments like this, but the way she did it? It was as if she was denying her own emotions completely, not just suppressing them. And that was dangerous.

I hadn’t had the chance to tell Preacher what she’d confided in me last night. I knew I needed to, but the thought of it made me feel like shit. Kyle didn’topen upto people. I’d broken through that wall, and now, I was about to break her trust. Even if it was for her own good.

I exhaled and walked up to her, saying nothing, just holding out my hand. She hesitated, then, after a beat, she slipped her fingers into mine.

I pulled her up from the chair and led her out of the room, through the dimly lit hallway of the motel, and into one of the empty rooms we’d booked. The second the door clicked shut behind us, I did what I’d been wanting to do since this whole mess started, I pulled her against me, my mouth crashing down onto hers.

I needed to taste her.

To hold her.

To make sure she was okay.

KYLE

Inside, I was a mess. People assumed that when you were trained to kill for the right reasons, it didn’t leave a mark on you. That you could walk away clean. That you could justify it.

They were wrong.

Taking a life wasalwaysa weight on the soul. No matter what they’d done—no matter what they wereaboutto do, it stayed with you. Tonight, that weight pressed heavy on my chest. But even more than that, seeing Mace and Hunter break the way they had? Thatshookme.

I’d known them for years. Known them as level-headed, mentally strong men. They were built for war. Seeing themcrack under this, that was hard.

And then there was Preacher. I was noticing things about him, things that didn’t sit right. Had he changed? Had healwaysbeen like this, and I just hadn’t seen it before? I didn’t know.

But the second Jagger’s lips found mine, all of it—the questions, the doubts, the heaviness—I let it go. Becausethiswas something solid, something I couldfeel.

His mouth moved over mine, demanding and urgent, but then slowed, and the kiss deepened. My fingers curled into the leather of his cut as I pressed closer, feeling the solid heat of his body against mine.

“I need you,” I whispered, my hands going to his shoulders, pushing the cut off of him.

Jagger didn’t hesitate. His hands slid beneath my shirt, skimming up my sides, sending a shiver through me as he pulled the fabric over my head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened, tracing over my skin, lingering on the tattoo that ran down my front.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his fingers brushing over the ink. “Just when I think there can’t be more to you that turns me on, I uncover evenmore.”

Heat pooled low in my stomach at the rawness in his voice. I let my hands explore him in return, gripping the hem of his shirt and dragging it up, forcing him to break away for a second as I pulled it over his head.

I’d seen his body before, but I hadn’t gotten thechancetoreallyexplore. And right now, I planned to take my time.

His skin was a canvas of contradiction—his arms bare, a stark contrast to the intricate scrolling tattoos that covered his chest and shoulders. It struck me as odd, but it also fascinated me. Each design told a story, one I didn’t yet know but wanted to trace, to memorize.

Leaning forward, I let my tongue follow the inked lines, savoring the taste of him. His muscles tensed beneath my hands, a shudder rippling through his body. I smirked against his skin.Good.

My hands roamed, sliding up his sides, then across the hard ridges of his back, feeling every powerful shift of muscle. He was solid, raw strength under my fingertips.

I dragged my tongue over his nipple, and that was the moment he broke.

“Fuck this,” he growled.

The next thing I knew, I was airborne. A startled gasp left my lips as I landed on the bed, Jagger’s weight pressing me into the mattress a second later. My pulse pounded, not with fear, but with something much, much more dangerous.

This was new. Normally, men saw that I was in shape, that I could hold my own, and just went with the flow. They let me lead. Jagger wasn’t most men.

Andfuck, I loved it.

His eyes raked over me like a predator surveying his kill, dark and filled with wicked intent. The bed dipped as he shifted, kneeling between my legs before pushing to his feet. Towering over me. Watching me.

I held his gaze, reaching behind my back to undo my bra clasp. His fingers went to his belt, his movements slow, deliberate.

A challenge.

Rolling my shoulders forward, I let the lace straps slip down my arms before tossing the fabric aside, adding to the growing pile of discarded clothes.

Jagger’s eyes darkened further, his jaw flexing. His belt came undone with a sharp metallicclink, but instead of dropping his jeans, he leaned down, gripping my boots. With a quick yank, he pulled them off, not bothering with the laces. I never undid them—just in case I needed to move fast, to disappear soundlessly. I’d never been so fucking grateful for that habit.

His hands found my hips next, pushing me back onto the mattress. My breath caught as he flicked open the button on my pants, the rough scrape of his knuckles against my skin sending sparks through me. With one smooth motion, he stripped them away, taking my panties with them.

A sharp inhale, that was the only sound he made before my pants went flying.

“Fucking hell.” His voice was rough, raw. His fingers brushed over my inner thighs, spreading me wider beneath him. “I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful.”

Heat pooled low in my stomach, ay pulse pounded in my ears. I lifted one leg, sliding my foot up the inside of his thigh until it rested against the open fly of his jeans.

“Off,” I ordered.

One brow lifted, a smirk ghosting over his lips. “I think I’d rather enjoy you first.”

I clenched my jaw. Under different circumstances, I would’ve let him. Would’ve taken the time to let him do whatever the fuck he wanted. But we didn’thavetime.

“We can do that another time,” I countered, my voice steady despite the fire burning inside me. “Right now, we don’t know if someone’s going to hammer on that door with an update. We could be needed any second. Do you really want to risk that?”

It took him all of five seconds to come to the right conclusion.

His jeans hit the floor, then he was on me. I expected his mouth to crash into mine, expected him to take what we both so clearly wanted. But Jagger never did what I expected.

Instead, he bent down, his lips brushing over my nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking hard. A strangled moan slipped free as my back arched, my fingers tangling in his hair.

Fuck, fuck, fuck .

He didn’t stop. He kissed his way down my stomach, his tongue following the path of my tattoo, branding me in a way I didn’t think was possible.

Then, just before reaching where I was aching for him most, he muttered, “No fucking way do I not have time for this.”

And then his mouth was on me.

I gasped, my body jolting as his tongue flicked over my clit. The heat of his breath, the perfect pressure, it was too much and not enough at the same time. My fingers dug into his scalp as I tried to ground myself, but he only groaned in response, the vibrations pushing me closer to the edge.

He licked, sucked, and then—fuck—he bit down gently. I was unravelling.

His tongue dipped lower, sliding inside me, slow and deliberate. “You taste fuckinggorgeous,” he murmured against me, his voice vibrating through my entire body.

My thighs trembled, but he wasn’t done. His hand slid up my stomach, his thumb dragging down until it pressed against my clit. A sharp pressure. A slow circle.

I wasn’t avocalperson in bed, but Jagger had just destroyed that. I was writhing, moaning,begging—my voice hoarse with need.

“Please.”

It was barely a whisper, but he heard it.

His mouth left me, only to be replaced by his fingers. He pushed two inside me, deep and slow, curling just right, his lips latching onto my clit again. Then he sucked hard, and I shattered.

A scream ripped from my throat as I came, my body locking up, shaking as waves of pleasure crashed through me. I barely registered the fact that I was gripping his hair so tight that it had to be painful. But when I did, I forced my fingers to loosen, my whole body still trembling as he continued stroking me, drawing out every last shudder.

As my mind slowly drifted back down to earth, one thought flickered through the haze. I hadneverfelt like this before, and that terrified me.

I was still coming down, my body shuddering in the aftermath, when Jagger moved over me, his cock rubbing against my overly sensitive pussy. A sharp gasp tore from my lips, my body jerking as the friction sent another wave of overstimulation through me. He groaned at my reaction, his eyes dark and wild with hunger.

Slowly, I raised my hips, guiding him toward my entrance. Our gazes locked as he began to push inside me, the stretch burning just enough to make my breath catch. I reached above my head, grabbing at a pillow, needingsomethingto hold on to. He was so wide, his thickness forcing my body to accommodate him inch by inch. Even though he was taking it slow, beads of sweat dotted his forehead from the effort of holding back.

“Jesus, baby,” he rasped, his voice strained. “You’re so fucking tight.”

His head dropped to the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. He pulled back slightly, giving me a moment to adjust before pressing forward again, deeper this time. The slow, deliberate invasion had me gripping the pillow tighter, my nails digging into the fabric. I appreciated the patience, I really did, but Ineededhim. I needed him in a way I had never needed anyone before.

Lifting my head, I caught his lips with mine, flicking my tongue against his, tasting the groan that rumbled from deep in his chest. That was all it took. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in, arching my hips, taking himallthe way.

The pleasure wasinstantaneous—a full-body shockwave that ripped a moan from my throat, so raw, so desperate, it bordered on a scream.

Jagger wasn’t unaffected. His whole body jerked as he let out a strangled shout.

“Fuckinghell, baby.” His forehead pressed against mine, his breath ragged. “Are you okay?”

I nodded quickly, not trusting my voice, and rolled my hips experimentally. Immediately pleasureexplodedthrough me.

I moaned, my back arching off the bed. “I need you tomove.”

Jagger lifted his head, his eyes locking onto mine, searching. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him, because he pulled back slowly, almost teasingly, before sinking back in just as slow. We both groaned as he bottomed out again, my walls clenching around him. Still holding my gaze, I lifted my leg, curling it around his ribs, opening myself even further for him.

That was all the invitation he needed. His rhythm picked up, the slow, controlled thrusts turning deeper, harder. The room filled with the sound of panting breaths, moans, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. The air was thick with heat, with need, with the sheer intensity of what we were doing.

I felt his gaze shift downward, and I followed, watching where our bodies met, watching as he slid in and out of me, slick and glistening. A flicker of awareness registered in the back of my mind that he’d put on a condom at some point. I hadn’t even noticed. I was too far gone, too consumed by the way he wasfillingme, stretching me, driving me toward somethingblinding.

A tight coil formed deep inside me, my muscles starting to flutter around him as the buildup grew stronger.

Jagger felt it.

“You gonna come on me, baby?” His voice was a low growl, rough and full of promise.

I whimpered in response, unable to form words. Grinding my hips against him, I dragged my clit over the ridges of his abdomen, searching for the friction I needed.

Jagger was a step ahead of me.

“Here,” he whispered, lowering one hand between us. His thumb found my clit, circling it with slow, calculated strokes, justlightenough to drive me insane.

It wasn’t enough, and he knew it.

His lips brushed against my ear. “Tell me you’re mine,” he murmured, the words sending a fresh wave of heat through me. “Say it, and I’ll give you what you want.”

I was too far gone to argue, too desperate. At that moment, I would have given him anything. My pride. My dignity. A goddamn kidney if he’d asked.

I nodded frantically, but that wasn’t good enough for him.

“Say it,” he demanded, stilling inside me, refusing to move.

IsworeI was going to murder this man. I was trained inmultipleways to kill. My skills in hand-to-hand combat were unmatched. And if thisbeautiful bastard didn’t start moving again, I’d make sure he found out exactlyhowskilled I was.

But looking up at him, at the raw hunger in his eyes, the smug curve of his lips, I acknowledged the brutal truth. I needed him alive to get what I wanted.

So, I played dirty.

I clenched around him, tightening my walls until his jawlockedand his whole body trembled above me. His restraint wascracking.

I smiled. Leaning up just slightly, I let the words fall from my lips, a whisper full of sin.

“I’m yours.”

The second the words left my mouth, Jaggersnapped, his controlcompletely shattered.

With a raw growl, he slammed into mehard, the force of it knocking the air from my lungs. My head tipped back, a scream ripping from my throat as the pleasureexploded. And I let it consume me.

“Fucking right you are,” he growled, his voice dark and full of possession as he drove into me, over and over, each thrust harder, deeper, sending me spiraling closer to the edge.

My body was already primed, raw from the way he’d pushed me past my limits before, but this—this was something else entirely. I was already close when his fingers found my clit, pinching just enough to send ashockwavethrough me. That was all it took.

The orgasm hit me like a supernova, stealing every breath from my lungs. My muscles locked tight, my body shaking, my visionblurring. My core clenched around him so hard that I could barely comprehend the sensation. It wasn’t just pleasure, it was somethingmore, something primal, something that shattered every single preconceived notion I had about sex.

I barely registered Jagger’s groan above me, the deep rumble of his pleasure vibrating against my skin, but Ifelthim—felt the way he tensed, his control snapping as he lost himself inside me.

I didn’t know how long it lasted, but when it finally ebbed, I was left limp and spent beneath him, my fingers still clutching the comforter in a death grip. My muscles ached, and my body tingled in the aftermath. What the hell had just happened?

Jagger collapsed on top of me, his skin hot and clammy against mine, his breath ragged as he buried his face in my neck.

“Holy fuck,” he panted, voice raw. “I’ll move in a second. I just… can’t feel my body.”

A breathless laugh escaped me, surprising me. There had never been a moment where I’d felt thiscloseto someone, not even during missions where every movement, every breath, had to be in sync to stay alive. But this, this was different. This wasn’t just trust, it was something I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before.

Jagger lifted his head, his lips curling into a lazy smirk, his eyes warm with amusement as he looked down at me. I wasn’t sure if what we’d just done had been making love or fucking—butwhateverit was, I realized something. Itrustedhim. And maybe—just maybe—Jagger was the exception to my rule. And I was willing to take that chance.