Page 67 of Tempest Rising

Before I could stop myself, I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing against her cheeks.

“You’re my mate,” I said, the words spilling out before I could think better of them. “You’ve always been my mate.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but then she smiled—a soft, knowing smile. “I thought so,” she whispered. “I’ve felt it, too.”

I froze for a moment, stunned by her words. She’d felt it too? The bond? The pull? The undeniable truth that she was mine? My instincts screamed at me to hold her, to never let her go, but the rational part of me—the part that had spent years believing I wasn’t good enough, that I was broken—hesitated.

“Tess…” My voice was rough, strained, as I stepped back slightly, though my hands stayed on her face, unwilling to lose that connection. “Being my mate… it changes things. It’s not something you can just walk away from. It’s forever. I don’t—” My voice caught in my throat, and I had to force the words out. “I don’t know if you’d want to be tied to someone like me.”

Her brows furrowed, her golden-brown eyes searching mine with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “Mason,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the vulnerability that flickered across her face, “it’s okay. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’ve always known you were special to me. Always.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the chest. She’d loved me?Me? The broken boy who could barely protect himself, let alone someone else? The man who carried scars—inside and out—from years of pain and violence? I shook my head, disbelief warring with the overwhelming need to believe her. “Tess, I’m not… I’m not what you deserve. I’ve done things, I’ve—”

She cut me off, her hands covering mine where they cradled her face. “Stop,” she said firmly, her voice trembling just enough to betray her own vulnerability. “Stop deciding what I deserve. Stop thinking you’re not enough. You’ve always been enough for me, Mason. Always.”

Her words made something inside me crack wide open. But even as hope began to seep in, doubt lingered. “Do you really know what you’re saying?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Do you really want this? Want me?”

Her gaze softened, and she stepped closer, her body brushing against mine. “Do you want me?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady. Her vulnerability was palpable, and it broke something in me to see her like this—so strong and yet so open, so willing to put her heart in my hands despite all the reasons she shouldn’t.

I didn’t think. I couldn’t. The words tumbled out of me, raw and unfiltered. “I’ve never wanted anything more than you, Tess. Never.”

And then I kissed her.

It wasn’t a tentative kiss, wasn’t careful or restrained. It was everything I’d been holding back, everything I’d been too afraid to admit I felt. My lips claimed hers with a desperation that bordered on feral, my hands sliding from her face to her waist, pulling her closer until there wasn’t a breath of space between us.

She responded immediately, her hands tangling in my hair as she pressed herself against me. Her lips were soft, warm, and tasted faintly of the lavender soap she used. The kiss deepened, and I felt her sigh against me, her body melting into mine. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of, and yet it was so much more—more real, more intense, moreher.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard, the steam from the shower curling around us like a cocoon. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from the kiss, and she looked up at me with an expression that stole the air from my lungs.

“You’re mine,” I said, my voice low and rough. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, a truth that I couldn’t deny anymore.

Her lips curved into a small, shy smile. “And you’re mine,” she whispered, her fingers brushing against my jaw. “You always have been.”

Chapter 27

Tess

The water cascaded down Mason’s broad shoulders, glistening over his dark skin. He loomed over me, a primal force tempered by an almost reverent gentleness.

“Tess,” he murmured, his deep, gravelly voice vibrating through me. “You’re everything to me. I’ve waited so long for this—waited so long for you.”

His large hands framed my face, his thumbs brushing the corners of my lips as though memorizing every inch of me. Before I could respond, his lips captured mine in a kiss that was both tender and possessive, a contradiction so uniquely Mason. I melted against him, clutching his shoulders for balance as a cascade of feelings—desire, love, longing—swept me under like a tidal wave.

He pulled back just enough to let me breathe, his molten gaze never leaving mine. “You’re mine, Tess. Say it.”

"I'm yours, Mason." The words came unbidden, but they felt right, like a truth I'd always known. "I've always been yours."

The growl that rumbled from his chest sent a shiver through me, a delicious thrill that only grew stronger as his massivehands roamed my body—slowly, reverently, as though I were something precious.

His lips captured mine again, hungry and demanding this time. The kiss was deep, passionate, his tongue sweeping into my mouth as his hands pulled me closer against his hard chest. I melted into him, overwhelmed by the heat of his touch and the intensity of his desire.

Mason's hands, calloused and strong, roamed over my back, pulling me impossibly closer. His touch ignited a fire within me that no amount of shower water could quench.

His lips moved from mine, blazing a trail down my neck, each kiss a brand that claimed me as his. I gasped as he nipped at my earlobe, sending shivers down my spine. "Mason," I whispered, my voice a mixture of plea and prayer.

He growled in response, the sound a primal vibration that resonated with the deepest parts of me. His hands found my breasts, cradling them with a reverence that made my knees weak. His fingers teased my nipples into hard peaks, each tweak sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his gaze locked onto mine as he continued his exquisite torment.

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