Page 173 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

“Nope.” Hank’s voice is dark velvet, threaded with command. “You walk too damn slow.” His grip shifts tighter, firmer. Then, he’s off, sprinting toward home.

The world flies past in a blur—ocean, cliffs, sky. Hank carriesme like I weigh nothing. His body is rock solid, every muscle working beneath me. I cling to him, breath stolen, heart thundering.

Our home comes into view, perched at the cliff’s edge, sunlight catching the glass windows. The air hums with anticipation, with need.

They’re desperate forme.

And I’m desperate forthem.

I gasp, half-laughing as he leaps over a fallen branch without breaking stride. “The way you’re running, anyone would think you haven’t had sex in years.”

Gabe’s eyes catch mine as he runs alongside us, dark with intent. “Half a mile until home, sweetheart. Hope you didn’t have any plans,” he says, his voice dropping to that tone that makes my insides liquify. “Because we’re not letting you out of bed for the rest of the day.”

The casual confidence in his words sends a shiver straight through me. Hank’s grip tightens, his free hand splayed possessively across the back of my thighs.

My half-hearted struggles cease as his words sink in.

Home.

Not his home or their home.

Just home.

As if it’s decided—as if it’s where I belong.

The door slams open under Gabe’s hand, echoing like a starting gun. Hank doesn’t pause, doesn’t hesitate, just charges through, my body still slung over his shoulder like a prize.

“Bedroom,” Gabe calls, locking the door behind us, his voice hoarse, hot, filled with promise.

“No.” Hank’s tone is rough silk, cutting through the tension like a blade. “Right here.”

I barely have time to gasp before strong hands grip my waist, lifting me, shifting me like I weigh nothing. My heart slams against my ribs, the thrill of the chase still electric in my veins.

The world spins as Hank sets me on my feet—just long enough for his fingers to curl around my hips, grounding me, making sure Ifeel his control.

His body presses close, solid heat caging me in.

Then he grips my wrist, firm but not unkind, and turns me.

A sharp gasp escapes as he spins me to face the couch, his chest at my back, broad and unyielding.

His hand slides up my spine, fingers splaying between my shoulder blades. A firm, unspoken command.

I obey before he can speak, before I can second-guess myself.

I bend over the couch, my breath shaky, anticipation strung tight between my ribs. The leather is cool beneath my palms, grounding me in the moment, in them.

Gabe’s voice hums in my ear, a dark promise. “That’s it, sweetheart. Exactly where you belong.”

Hank’s palm ghosts over the curve of my ass, slow, deliberate, teasing. Then—his fingers hook into the waistband of my leggings, yanking them down in one ruthless motion.

Cool air licks over fevered skin.

Hank grips my hips, thumbs pressing into the dips above my pelvis, holding me still as he leans over me, his breath searing against my neck.

“You wanted to be fucked.”

Hank’s voice scrapes over me, rough, unforgiving. His grip tightens on my hips, fingers digging into my skin, holding me in place.

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