Page 11 of Rogue’s Reckoning

Slowly, I feel her body start to relax around me. When she opens her eyes, they're hazy with desire.

"Move," she whispers. "Please."

I start to thrust, keeping my pace slow and steady. The feeling of her tight heat around me is indescribable. I've been with plenty of women before, but none have felt like this. None have made me feel this... connected.

As Willow starts to move with me, meeting my thrusts, I pick up the pace. The room fills with the sounds of our mingled moans and the slap of skin on skin.

"Rogue," she gasps, her nails digging into my back. "Oh God, Rogue."

I groan at the sound of my name on her lips. "That's it, baby. Let me hear you."

I shift my angle slightly, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out. Her legs tighten around my waist as I drive into her harder, faster.

"I'm close," she whimpers. "So close."

I slip a hand between us, my thumb finding her clit. "Come for me, Willow," I growl. "Let go."

With a final cry, Willow comes undone beneath me. The sight of her in ecstasy, combined with the feeling of her inner wallsclenching around me, pushes me over the edge. I bury my face in her neck as I follow her into bliss, her name a reverent whisper on my lips.

As we come down from our high, I carefully pull out of her before gathering her in my arms. Willow curls into me, her head resting on my chest.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She nods, a contented smile on her face. "More than okay. That was... incredible."

I chuckle, running my fingers through her hair. "You were incredible."

Never have I felt this way before, and I know I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t want more of this. I shouldn’t want to spend my nights with Willow. But I do, and it fucking terrifies me how much this woman has twisted me up inside.

As Willow drifts off to sleep in my arms, I'm hit with a wave of conflicting emotions. On one hand, I feel more at peace than I have in years. But on the other hand, I'm acutely aware of the danger I've put her in by bringing her into my world.

I think about Storm's orders to get close to her, to find out what she knows. The thought of using her, of potentially hurting her, makes my gut tighten with disgust. This shouldn’t be how it is. I should be able to do what he asks without feeling conflicted, yet that’s exactly what I’m feeling.

Looking down at her peaceful face, I make a silent vow. I'll protect her, no matter what. From the Hawks, from my own club if necessary.

As I hold Willow in my arms, her soft breathing the only sound in the quiet room, reality comes crashing back. What the fuck am I doing? This sweet, innocent girl has no place in my world. A world of violence, betrayal, and constant danger.

I should end this now, before she gets in too deep. Before I drag her down into the darkness that surrounds me. It would be the right thing to do, the honorable thing.

But as I look at her sleeping face, so peaceful and trusting, I know I can't let her go. In just one night, she’s nestled her way under my skin, into a part of my heart I thought was long dead.

I tighten my arms around her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Whatever comes, I'll face it. I'll keep her safe, even if it means going against my brothers, my club.

For the first time in years, I drift off to sleep with a sense of peace. But my dreams are plagued by visions of blood and chaos, Willow's screams echoing in my ears as I try desperately to reach her.

I wake with a start,my heart pounding. The bed beside me is empty, and for a moment, panic grips me. Then I hear the soft humming coming from the kitchen.

I pull on a pair of sweatpants and pad out of the bedroom to find Willow in one of my t-shirts, making coffee. The sight of her in my clothes, looking so at home in my space, does something to me I can't quite explain.

"Morning," she says with a shy smile when she notices me. "I found the coffee. I hope you don't mind."

I cross the room in two strides, pulling her into my arms and kissing her deeply. She melts into me, her arms winding around my neck.

When we finally break apart, she looks up at me with those big, innocent eyes. "What was that for?"

I shrug, not wanting to admit how much the domestic scene affected me. "Just felt like it."

Her smile brightens, and she turns back to the coffee. As I watch her move around my kitchen, I'm hit with a sense of rightness that scares the shit out of me. This isn't me. I don't do relationships. I don't do morning afters. And yet, here I am wanting nothing more than to wake up to this sight every day.

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