Page 29 of Wings (Heavy Kings MC #5)

The pace I set was demanding, claiming. This wasn't sweet lovemaking—this was possession. Marking. Making sure she felt me in every cell, remembered this moment every time she thought about hiding from me again. My hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise as I drove into her.

"Mine," I growled with each thrust. "My baby girl. My responsibility. My everything."

"Yours," she agreed brokenly, meeting me thrust for thrust. "All yours. Always yours."

The headboard knocked against the wall with our rhythm. Her legs wrapped around me, pulling me deeper, and the angle—fuck. I could feel her clenching already, another orgasm building. My responsive, perfect girl who got wet from discipline and came apart from being claimed.

"That's it," I encouraged, one hand moving between us to find her clit. "Come for Daddy again. Show me how good you can be."

She screamed when she came, no longer trying to muffle anything. I felt it everywhere—the rhythmic pulse of her around my cock, the way her whole body locked up then released. Beautiful. Mine.

I didn't let her recover, just kept the pace steady, driving her up again. She was beyond words now, just sounds—whimpers and moans and broken attempts at my name. Her nails raked down my back, probably leaving marks. Good. I wanted to wear her marks like she wore my collar.

"One more," I commanded, feeling my own control fracturing. "Give Daddy one more."

"Can't," she sobbed, even as her body responded. "Too much—"

"You can," I insisted, thumb circling her clit with precision. "My good girl can do anything. Come on, baby. One more for Daddy."

She broke apart with a wail, this orgasm different—deeper, fuller, pulling me over with her. I buried myself deep as I came, her name a prayer and a curse and a promise all at once. The intensity of it whited out my vision, left me shaking like I'd run miles.

We collapsed together, still joined, both breathing like we'd nearly drowned. Her arms stayed locked around me, holding on like I might disappear. I pressed kisses to her temple, her cheek, anywhere I could reach without moving too much.

"My girl," I murmured when I could form words again. "My perfect, beautiful baby girl."

We lay there, comfortable, but my mind was racing. After three years of wondering and wanting, she was actually here in my arms.

The words had been building since I'd found her in that parking garage. Maybe longer—since a seventeen-year-old girl drew purple butterflies on my cast and changed my understanding of beauty. They pressed against my teeth now, demanding release.

But how did you tell someone they were your entire world? How did you explain that watching them sleep had become your religion? That their trust was the most valuable thing you'd ever been given?

"I can hear you thinking," she murmured against my chest, voice drowsy and satisfied. "Loud thoughts."

"Sorry, baby girl." I tightened my arms around her. "Didn't mean to disturb you."

"Not disturbed." She pressed a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. "Just wondering what's got my Daddy's brain working so hard."

My Daddy.

The casual possession in it still hit like a punch. She said it so easily now, like it had always been true. Maybe it had.

"Thinking about you," I admitted. "About us. About how we got here."

She shifted to look up at me, eyes soft in the fairy light. "Having regrets?"

"No." The word came out fierce enough to make her blink. "Never. Not about any of it."

"Even the spanking?" There was vulnerability there, just a thread of it. "I know it was supposed to be punishment, but I—"

"Made it yours," I finished. "Took what could have been just discipline and transformed it into connection. Trust. Do you know how incredible that is?"

She ducked her head, but I caught her chin, made her meet my eyes. This was too important for hiding.

"Ki, baby girl, you took a punishment spanking and found safety in it. Found pleasure in it. Not because you're broken or wrong, but because you trust me. Because you know down to your bones that everything I do is about taking care of you."

"It did feel safe," she whispered. "Even when it hurt. Maybe especially then? Like—like the rules were real. Like they mattered enough to enforce. Like I mattered enough."

Christ. She was going to kill me with these insights, these glimpses into how her mind worked. I'd read about this—submissives who needed the reality of consequences to feel truly secure in their dynamic. But reading about it and seeing it in my girl's eyes were different universes.

"You matter more than you can possibly understand," I said, and the words were right there, pressing for release. "Ki, I—"

Fear tried to close my throat. Not of saying it, but of the weight of it.

But her eyes were on mine, patient and trusting, and I realized—when else? If not now, in this perfect moment with her warm and pliant in my arms, collar at her throat and my marks probably blooming on her hips, then when?

"I love you, Kiara," I said, each word deliberate and clear.

"I'm in love with you. Have been since I was too young to understand what it meant.

And now that I do understand, now that I have you—" I had to stop, throat tight with emotion.

"I love you beyond reason. Beyond words.

Beyond anything I thought I was capable of feeling. "

Her eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling—this brilliant, impossibly beautiful smile that lit her up from inside. She pushed up to kiss me, salt on her lips, hands framing my face like I was something precious.

"I love you too," she whispered against my mouth. "I love you so much it scares me sometimes. My Daddy. My protector. My Gabe."

My Gabe. Like I was hers as much as she was mine. The truth of it settled into my bones—we belonged to each other, and now, I’d never let her go.