Page 182 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

Time unravels.

He fucks me once, slow and deep, his hands reverent as they explore the canvas he’s created. Then again—harder, rougher, like he needs to mark me from the inside out.

His hands are gentle, fingers skimming the welts with awe. His mouth brushes over the bruises like blessings.

The door creaks softly.

Hank returns.

He moves silently, his presence a quiet storm. I sense the shift in the air even before he speaks.

“You good?” he asks Gabe, voice low, clipped.

“She’s perfect.” Gabe doesn’t look away from me. “Like she was made for me.”

Hank’s boots cross the floor. I feel his warmth behind me before he steps into view. His gaze rakes over my bound body, the crimson lines that bloom across my skin like art. His expression tightens—not with concern, but with adoration.

Then his eyes find mine.

“You’re doing so well, luv.” His knuckles brush my cheek, rough skin against overheated flesh. “You look so fucking beautiful, wearing Gabe’s marks—his claim written across your skin.” His lips press a kiss to my temple, lingering. “Do you need to stop?”

“No, Sir.”

“You still want to continue?”

“Yes, please.” The words fall out of me, hoarse but certain. I don’t want to be the one who stops. I want Gabe to take everything he needs and prove that I can be everything he wants.

His thumb strokes the underside of my jaw. “That’s my brave girl.”

He steps back. And leaves again.

Leaves me with Gabe.

To suffer.

To endure.

To rise.

To fly higher than I’ve ever flown before.

Euphoria.

Gabe leans in, his breath hot against my skin, lips grazing my ear.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he whispers, dark and coaxing. “You will take everything I give you. Do you remember your safeword?”

“Yes …”

“What is it?”

“Marshymellow.”

“That’s right.” He steps back. “Do you need to use it?”

“No, Sir.” I stand straighter, finding a well of strength somewhere deep within.

His forehead presses to mine, anchoring me as his hands roam my body—not to hurt this time, but to remind me who I belong to. He always gives me moments like this between the lashes, bruises, and heat.

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