I’ve seen sides of him that I imagine no one else has.
I’ve experienced his wrath and his kindness.
I’ve felt his eyes on me, watching me, assessing me, making me feel like I am his whole world.
And maybe I am, but he deserves more. So much more.
It doesn’t fucking matter that he kills.
It doesn’t fucking matter that he rules a dangerous world where he cuts people’s fingers off when they don’t pay up.
None of it fucking matters except for the man who is now standing in front of me, curiosity crossing his face.
I want to be good enough.
I want him to feel like he hit the jackpot when he chose me.
I want it all with him. The house, the kids, the life, the happy ever after.
But the thought has me feeling broken inside. Because I am not that woman. I am not the woman for him. I’m a mess and I’ve crumbled. Maybe this is my breaking point? Maybe this is what he wanted to do? Break me to make me realise I needed him.
Mission accomplished, except, I don’t feel good enough for him.
But for one night, after a shitty way to end what was a few hours of lightness, I am going to allow myself to enjoy the feel of him. The way his hands will caress my body and nothing else will exist. I need it. I need him. I need this one night.
So I say the only words I want to say, pushing the thoughts of doubt to the back of my mind.
“Take me to bed, Nate.”
Chapter Nineteen
Nate
It takes me less than a second to pick her up and carry her to my bed.
I lie her down, just admiring her perfect body. Despite the marks on her neck that have a rage bubbling inside of me like nothing else, she is the definition of perfection for me.
Tonight, she showed that she is strong enough to be in my world. She managed to get away and come to me, giving that asshole a bit of retribution in the process. It will be nothing compared to the retribution I will show him, but I don’t want to think about that now as I stare at the beauty before me.
I start to strip, undoing my trousers and letting them fall to the floor. Next to go is my shirt, and then my boxers and socks. I stand before her, fully naked and revelling in the way she devours my body and bites her bottom lip.
I lower myself to the bed and crawl over her, until my body covers hers and our eyes are locked together.
Her breath feathers over my lips, her eyes showing how hungry she is for this. For me.
Her hands come up and lightly touch the back of my neck, tracing circles. “Make love to me, Nate,” she whispers, and I hear the slight crack in her voice as she speaks. It makes my heart lurch in response. Fucking hell, my heart is hard, cold, black… until her. She’s bringing it to life again, and she will be the first woman that I have ever made love to because no one was good enough until she came along.
I dip my head down and kiss the red marks that mar her skin. The handprint on her cheek, the finger marks on her neck. I kiss each one delicately, gently, not wanting to hurt her.
Her fingers move to my hair and run up and down. This isn’t going to be rushed, it isn’t going to be hard, and it isn’t going to be like the other times before.
This is the next step. And I’m about to give her something I’ve never given anyone before. My heart.
I’ve kept my heart behind walls of steel, but she’s broken through them, and a part of me always guessed that she would be the one to do it. I knew from the very first moment I set eyes on her that she was going to be my end game.
And now here she is. Led beneath me. My wife.
I’m not a sappy fucker, but for her, I’ll be what she needs me to be. I’m done playing fucking games and side-stepping what we both know is true. We belong. We are meant to be regardless of how we started out.