Page 47 of Wilde and Deadly

“I love you,” she repeated, the words coming easier now. “I love you, Davey Wilde. I’ve loved you for so long, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t.”

His fingers rubbed her clit harder, faster, sending her hurtling towards the edge. “That’s it, Hellcat,” he rasped. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

Her world shattered, white-hot pleasure exploding through her as her orgasm finally crashed over her in wave after wave of ecstasy. Her knees buckled, but Davey’s strong arm around her waist held her up, and he followed her over the edge, spilling himself inside her with a hoarse shout of her name.

For several long moments, they stayed frozen in place, panting heavily, their sweat-slicked bodies still joined. Davey’s forehead rested against the back of her neck, his breath hot on her skin. Then, slowly, almost reluctantly, he withdrew and tucked himself back into his sweatpants, leaving her feeling suddenly empty and bereft. He turned her to face him and cupped her cheeks in his big hands as his eyes searched hers. Anger no longer blazed in those beautiful blue irises. Instead, there was a mix of confusion, hurt, and something else, something soft— longing, maybe.

“Did you mean it?” he asked quietly.

She nodded, unable to look away from his intense gaze. “Every word.”

Davey’s thumbs stroked over her cheekbones, his touch gentle now in contrast to the rough passion of moments before. “I want to believe you, Ro. Jesus, I want to believe you so badly. But...”

“But you don’t trust me,” she finished for him. “I get it. I wouldn’t trust me either, after everything I’ve done.”

He closed his eyes briefly as if in pain. When he opened them again, they were filled with a deep sadness that made her heart ache.

“It’s not that simple,” he said roughly. “I do trust you. At least, I trust that you wouldn’t hurt me, not physically. Even when you’re holding a knife to my balls, threatening to castrate me.” A faint smile flickered across his mouth but was gone in a blink. “But emotionally? You have the power to destroy me, and that’s fucking terrifying.”

The vulnerability in his eyes, the raw honesty of his admission, it was almost too much to bear. She reached up to cover his hands with her own, her thumbs stroking over his knuckles. “I will never intentionally hurt you, Davey. Not in any way. I want to be the person you can trust, the one who stands by your side no matter what comes our way.”

He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closing briefly. “You lied to me, Ro.”

The words weren’t a slap.

They weren’t even angry.

They were just quiet. Final. True.

She winced anyway.

“For months.” His breath was slow, measured. “You let me walk around with a target on my back.”

Guilt sliced through her, sharp and merciless.

“So now we’ve got a hell of a mess to sort through before we can even think about what comes next for us.”

For us.

Her heart clenched hard.

Even now, after everything, he was still talking about them as an “us.”

But she knew—trust wasn’t a switch you could flip. It was something rebuilt brick by painstaking brick.

Davey exhaled and stepped back. The loss of his warmth made her feel colder than it should have. “I need to call my brothers.” His gaze flicked downward, catching on the small stain of blood on her borrowed shirt. “And Tessa. Have her come look at those stitches.”

“I’m fine.”

His jaw tightened. “I wasn’t gentle.”

“I didn’t want you to be.”

For the barest second, his eyes darkened, the heat from earlier sparking again. A hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it disappeared just as quickly.

His walls were back up.

Guarded. Controlled.

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