Page 32 of The Chief (Those (Damn!) Texas Dantes #3)

He took her before the words finished leaving her mouth. One arm swept across the table. Plates, toast, eggs, everything clattered to the floor. His other arm lifted her onto the edge, the wood catching the backs of her thighs.

Her breath caught. “Cade—”

“Shut up.”

His mouth crushed hers, wild and fierce and possessive. No prelude. No easing in. Her lips parted beneath the assault, the spatula falling to the floor as her arms came up and locked around his neck. He gripped the edge of her shirt—his shirt—and yanked it apart, buttons flying.

He bared her, groaned at the sight of her, and shoved the edges wider. She was naked beneath. God, she was naked for him. The sight of her still healing, still carrying the scar from what had nearly taken her from him—

His gaze dropped to the fading wound, a whisper of the nightmare they’d survived. Fury and tenderness twisted in his gut. His breath hitched. Gently, fiercely, he dipped his head and pressed his mouth to the fading scar, letting his lips linger. A silent vow.

Mine.

He kissed it again, softer, the air around them thickening with something more than heat.

Then he lifted his head, met her eyes, and saw the shimmer in them—surprise and a need so raw it threatened to drown him.

Her arms were already looped around his neck, holding tight. But her body shifted, back bowing, her head tilting back in a silent offering. Her eyes, brilliant blue and dark with want, locked on his with matching need.

He dropped his head, mouth finding her breast, tongue circling her nipple as she gasped.

Her back arched further, offering more, and he groaned at the taste of her skin against his tongue, hot, silken, alive.

He dragged his mouth across her, switching sides, worshipping her with teeth and lips and heat.

She clutched his shoulders, hips already rocking, her chest heaving.

He scraped his teeth lightly over the peak, and her moan fractured in his mouth, breathless and needy. Her nails clawed at his back. “God, Cade,” she whispered, the sound ragged, threaded with aching need.

He looked up, eyes black with want. “You drive me fucking insane.”

“Cade! Please...”

“Say it again,” he growled, biting the soft underside of her breast. “Say my name like that.”

Her nails dug into his back, dragging down with an urgency that scorched.

“Cade,” she breathed, the sound more plea than name, her voice ragged, wrecked.

Her thighs tightened around his hips, her back arching in surrender as she pressed closer, as if she couldn’t get deep enough, close enough.

Every breath she took slammed into him, feeding the inferno still roaring through his veins.

He was already naked, already straining with the effort to hold back, muscles flexed tight with barely leashed restraint.

One hand slid down her thigh, gripping hard, while the other found her hip and yanked her to the edge of the table.

He lined up and surged into her in one brutal, hungry thrust, deep, claiming, absolute.

She cried out, head falling back, hands clinging to him like she’d drown without him holding her.

The table groaned beneath them.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow.

This wasn’t tender or soft. It was all consuming.

A surge of possession and fury, tangled with the wild relief of knowing she was still his.

It poured from him in every thrust, in every breath, a physical vow etched into her skin.

That she was alive. That she was his. That she would never walk out of their bed again without telling him.

Each thrust drove the thought deeper into her body. Into his. His fingers bruised her hips, keeping her still as he took her over and over, mouth claiming hers again, capturing every whimper, every gasp, every broken sound she gave him.

“You’re mine,” he rasped against her mouth. “Say it.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yours, Cade!”

“That’s right.” He gritted his teeth, thrust harder. “You don’t get to disappear. Not from me. Never again.”

She met him move for move, her legs tightening around his waist, her thighs trembling with each punishing thrust. Her nails bit into his shoulders, her head thrown back, gasping his name like a prayer and a curse.

Every stroke pushed her higher, made her cling tighter, her voice breaking with the visceral, helpless sounds of surrender.

She was wild in his arms, destroyed and radiant, the drag of her heat like a searing down to the bone.

“Harder,” she begged.

His snarl tore from his chest. He grabbed her ass and lifted her, changing the angle, driving into her so deep she shattered.

Her scream tore through the room, helpless and unrestrained, as her body arched beneath him.

She clenched hard around him, every muscle locking in ecstasy, her hands fisting in his hair.

Her head dropped to his shoulder, her skin slick and trembling, every inch of her trembling from the force of it.

He kept going.

Because she was still clenching him like she couldn’t let go. Because he couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t.

Her lips found his throat, her teeth scraping over his skin.

She whimpered, tightened around him again, a second climax already building. “God, Cade,” she moaned. “You’re everywhere.”

He thrust into her with brutal intensity, deeper and harder, needing her to feel it—feel him—long after the last echo of her scream faded from the walls.

She shattered again with a cry that nearly undid him. Her body bowed, her mouth open in a soundless scream, her nails dragging down his back.

He followed her a heartbeat later, hips driving hard as he buried himself to the hilt, the force of his release slamming into him like a freight train.

His groan tore loose, primal and desperate, as heat flooded through him and his body shuddered against hers, every nerve ending detonating with pleasure and relief.

The scent of her, the sensation of her clenching tight, the sound of her cry still echoing in his head.

He gave himself over to all of it, lost in her, undone by her.

They clung together, breath ragged, bodies trembling.

For long minutes, neither spoke.

Then he pulled back, brushing sweat-damp hair from her face. She blinked at him, dazed, her lips kiss-bruised and parted, her skin flushed. He couldn’t look away.

“God, you ruin me,” he said, voice harsh.

The words rasped out of him, gravel-edged and unfiltered, the syllables catching in his throat.

His chest still heaved with the aftershocks of what they’d done, the taste of her on his tongue, the memory of her still imprinted on his skin.

The slide of her body, the heat of her breath, the echo of her pulse against his.

He hadn’t just claimed her. He’d bared something deeper, and it terrified him more than any war ever had.

She smiled, stunned, the kind that slipped in when you were too exposed to fake anything else. Her voice was husky, breath still shaky. “Right back at you.”

He lowered his head, kissed her throat, the hollow beneath her ear, her chin. Tender now. Slower. Savoring her.

“Next time,” he murmured, letting his mouth drift down her collarbone, “you wake me. I’ll feed you myself.”

She laughed softly, fingers threading through his hair. “I tried not to wake you.”

“You’ll learn.”

He kissed her again, then lifted her into his arms. She melted against him, boneless, spent, her arms wrapping tight around his neck.

Tucking his gun away, he carried her back to bed.

This time, she stayed.

And in the dark, before sleep took her, he held her tighter, the calm too thin, too fragile. And in the hush of her breath against his chest, he whispered what he hadn’t yet dared to say out loud.

“I love you, Elise.”

ELISE WOKE to the press of Cade’s body against hers, heat radiating between them in the hush of the dark, the world still and waiting, as if holding its breath.

She shifted gently, her fingers drifting across his chest. When he stirred, she leaned in and kissed him, soft at first, then deeper, a burning need ignited in her core.

Not frantic. Not desperate. Just... aching.

He made a sound, uneven and intensely masculine, and cupped her chin, returning the kiss with a searing intensity that melted straight through her. She shifted closer, easing over him as his hands gripped her thighs and urged her forward, guiding her into perfect alignment.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he murmured, his voice still thick with exhaustion, but already sharpening with awareness. His hand slid to her hip, seeking the reassurance of her warm skin beneath his palm, as he looked at her with a smolder that appeared in his eyes and promised everything.

“Wanted you,” she whispered.

That was all it took. He shifted, rolling her gently beneath him, bracing on one forearm as his other hand explored her skin with unhurried purpose.

He kissed her lips, her throat, the soft center of her chest. His mouth lingered over the fading scar at her side, not with reverence, but with the quiet fury of a man who still hadn’t forgiven the world for almost taking her from him.

“You’re okay,” he murmured against her skin. “Still here. Still mine.”

Her touch hesitated, then drifted from his chest to his cheek, fingertips tracing the edge of his jaw before she leaned in and pressed her lips softly to his.

She hesitated, a tremor quaked through her between nerves and certainty, then whispered, “I love you.” Her voice shook, thick with everything she hadn’t dared say until now.

He froze. Looked down at her, eyes burning in the dark.

“I’ve loved you since the second I saw you,” he said. “I just didn’t recognize it. Didn’t know what to do with it.”

Their mouths met again, deeper, hands tangled in the quiet rhythm of shared need. He entered her with a groan, filling her carefully, giving her time to know every inch of him. Her hands curled around his shoulders, her breathing stuttering with rising heat.

“Don’t let me go,” she breathed against his mouth, the words feathering over his lips like a plea and a vow.

“Never,” he growled with scorching certainty.

He drove into her with a deep, claiming thrust that drew a gasp from her lips, a sound that sent heat lancing through him.

Her eyes flew wide, mouth parted, arousal painting her skin.

He didn’t rush, just held her there, full and still, watching the impact move through her like a wave.

Letting her feel how completely she belonged to him.

They moved together in waves, a rhythm built from everything they’d survived and everything they still needed to prove. Her body met his with a quiet, urgent grace, molding to each long stroke. She gasped softly with every shift of his hips, her fingers curling tighter.

His hand slid beneath her, lifting her closer, deeper, until their bodies melted together, the space between them disappearing like a shared vow.

Each movement was a conversation, his need, her trust, the fire between them steady and consuming.

It wasn’t just about possession now. It was about connection. Healing. Sanctuary.

She arched into him, thighs bracketing his hips, one hand fisting in his hair while the other raked lightly across his back. Her whole body tightened around him, a shiver rolling through her as if the pleasure threatened to tear her apart.

Her mouth brushed his ear. “You’re everything I never knew I needed.”

She let out a shaky laugh, one hand splayed over his heart as if clinging to the moment. He kissed the inside of her wrist. The heat between them hadn’t lessened, but something softer had crept in beneath it, an ache like healing, a promise made flesh.

“You feel like home,” she whispered, voice husky with emotion, as if the words had risen from somewhere too deep to name.

His voice broke against her skin. “That’s because you are home.”

The rhythm faltered. Tension coiled tight, and then a jolt of sensation surged between them, white-hot and final. Their bodies arched, locked, and then softened in release, pulses slowing as mouths met again, not in urgency but in quiet, lingering aftershock.

Cade kissed the corner of her eye, the curve of her face, then her mouth once more before easing onto his side and drawing her with him. She curled against him, legs tangled with his, her forehead resting against his throat like she was right where she belonged.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, eyes already drifting shut.

“Damn right, you’re not,” he muttered into her hair.

And they slept like that, wrapped in heat and each other.

The explosion rocked the compound an hour before dawn.