Page 30 of The Lasso Master

His teeth found her skin, scraping, biting, marking with a slow intensity that sent lightning through her nerves. The growl in his chest vibrated against hers as he pressed his hips forward, his cock hot and hard, grinding against her slick heat through the thin barrier of sheets. He was rough, relentless—his grip bruising, his mouth demanding—but underneath it pulsed something raw and desperate.

He devoured her like a man afraid this was the last time. And she welcomed it with a hunger just as feral.

Desperation.

Need.

He was letting go. And in return, she did too.

As she arched her back into him, she let out a sharp gasp of surprise when he forcefully parted her legs with a ferocious growl, exclaiming, "Mine."

His powerful hand grasped her hair with an unyielding grip, yanking her head back with a dominance that drew a moan from her lips. The intense tingling sensation at her scalp where his fingers clenched ignited her arousal further. The sudden,forceful tug caused her spine to curve even more, lifting her chest and exposing her throat in a vulnerable manner that sent an electrifying jolt straight to the depths of her core. Her eyes flew open just in time to lock onto their reflection in the mirror across the room.

What she saw was more than just raw—it was pure, unbridled passion. Her skin appeared flushed, as if glowing with the heat they generated together; her hair, a wild tangle that mirrored the intensity of their coupling; his eyes held a fierce possession as he towered behind her, every muscle in his body taut with control and burning need. It was an obscene yet beautiful tableau—an unfiltered reality that was intensely erotic and made her thighs tremble uncontrollably. Her breath caught as the pressure of his grip and the sheer intensity of his gaze scorched through her. She could see her own mouth parted in a gasp, her body flushed and pliant, and his expression—fierce, reverent, undone—stole whatever resistance she had left. Watching herself like that, being possessed like that, stripped her down to something wild and worshiped all at once.

She felt completely undone—skin flushed, muscles trembling, every nerve fired raw—yet there was no question in her. She belonged to him.

Not because he demanded it, but because every savage thrust, every whispered command, every greedy kiss had carved it into her body, into her bones.

At that moment, she wasn’t hiding. She was claimed, adored, consumed—and she wanted more.

“Watch yourself as I take you. See what effect you have on me.”

His words were filthy, laced with possession and lust, and they seared through her like a live wire. Every syllable lit her up, unraveling her from the inside out. When he drove into her—deep, hard, claiming—her entire body arched, pleasure eruptingso violently it left her gasping. His mouth, a brutal kiss that devoured the sounds of her surrender, swallowed her cries. The rhythm of his thrusts was merciless, dragging her higher with each stroke until her body shattered against his in a crescendo of heat and helpless need.

He showed no signs of stopping. He prolonged each climax by nipping at her sensitive flesh, driving himself into her over and over again, holding her in place with an unyielding determination, as if he had no intention of ever letting go.

When she succumbed beneath him for the last time—boneless and wrecked—his arms enveloped her protectively. He was panting. So was she. Their breaths mingled together in the aftermath of their passionate encounter, a testament to the fervent energy they had shared.

He pressed his forehead to hers. "You’re not just mine. I’m yours."

Her eyes burned, vision blurring as raw emotion swelled in her chest. A memory flashed—of cold motel rooms and borrowed names, of nights she stared at ceilings, wondering if she’d ever be more than someone’s convenience or liability. This moment—this man—was nothing like that. With Reed, it wasn’t survival. It was surrender. And it was safe. Her throat tightened, words caught between panic and revelation. Her heart pounded like a drum in her ears, but somehow, through the chaos, the ache, and the beautiful ruin of what they'd just shared, she found the strength to whisper back.

"I love you."

His mouth crashed into hers. Not tender. Not soft. Just truth.

"I love you, too."

And when they finally breathed again, they did it together.

14

REED

Harper never looked more beautiful or dangerous than she did standing barefoot in his kitchen, wearing one of his button-down shirts and nothing else, holding a spoon like it was a dagger. Sunlight poured through the window, catching the wild tumble of her hair and the fierce glint in her eyes. She was chaos in a silk collar, soft curves and sharp edges, the kind of woman who made you want to kneel and bite in the same breath. Reed took one look at her and felt his blood heat, his pulse pound. She wasn’t just his equal. She was his fire. And he wanted to be burned.

"I'm not wearing a leash in public."

Reed didn’t even glance up from the velvet box he held. "It's not a leash. It's a collar. And you’ll wear it because I had it crafted especially for you."

She narrowed her eyes, trying to hold on to her sass even as her voice faltered. "So, what—just because it's custom, I'm supposed to melt?" She fought the tug in her chest, the sting behind her eyes. Damn him for knowing exactly how to get under her skin. And damn herself for loving it. But instead of showing that, she arched a brow and added, "Did it come with a matching leash, or do I need to accessorize it myself?"

He smiled—slow, infuriating, dominant. "I already did. Personally commissioned it. Platinum links braided with black titanium—strong enough to outlast anything, but smooth as sin. There are diamonds at the throat, and one single sapphire—the same shade as your eyes—set at the clasp. Inside, there's an engraving. My initials. Yours. And the date everything changed. The day you stopped running—and I started holding on."

Harper swallowed, visibly flustered. Her defiance flickered, then softened. "That's... actually kind of hot."

Reed stepped closer, the box open now. The collar shimmered in the morning light—feminine, elegant, dangerous. Just like her. The platinum and titanium links caught every beam of sunlight, the diamonds flashing icy fire, the sapphire a perfect match to the tempest brewing in her eyes. He couldn’t look away. It wasn’t just beautiful—it was hers. It belonged around her throat. And more than that, it belonged in this moment. She wasn’t just being claimed. She was claiming him right back.

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