Page 30 of Oliver

I pulled her under me, and I took one of those beautiful full breasts into my mouth. The sounds coming from Emery were making me crazy.

My hands slipped down, and her panties came off. When my hand moved between her thighs, my finger touched her soft spot. Emery couldn’t stand it anymore. She raised her hips and let me have my way. “If I’m dreaming, don’t wake me.”I knowshe didn’t realize she spoke out loud, but I answered her anyway. You aren’t dreaming, sweetheart, I’m here with you.

Oliver took a deep breath.Damn, I’ve never lost control like this before. “Sweet Emery, do you want me to stop?”

She kissed me again—this time slower. Deeper. Less desperation, moreclaiming.

“Are you sure?” I asked, voice hoarse.

She pulled my shirt off in one smooth motion. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

I lifted her into my arms, carried her to the bed like she was breakable—but we both knew she wasn’t.

She was steel wrapped in soft skin.

Her hands traced every scar, every muscle. “You protect everyone else,” she whispered. “Let me take care ofyoutonight.”

I leaned in, kissing down her neck. “You already do.”

What followed wasn’t rushed. It was heat layered with history. Want tangled with something we hadn’t dared name until now.

Her skin against mine, her mouth under my touch—it was all fire and gravity and relief.

“Never, I never want you to stop,” Emery whispered. She started moving her hands everywhere. She reached down and wrapped her hand around me, and I couldn’t hold that moan in. That sound encouraged her to do more. It came automatically. She knew what I wanted, and I knew what she wanted.

I lay between her thighs. My hands slipped under her and caressed each cheek. When my fingers started their path to all the moistness between her thighs. Emery lost control, not that she had any to begin with.

I devoured her mouth and found her as hungry for me as I was for her. Hot heat seared my body. She gasped my name when I entered her, legs wrapped tight around my waist, fingers gripping my shoulders like she’d fall without me.

But I was already falling too.

We moved together like we’d been made for this.

And in the moments between thrusts, between kisses, between whispered promises—I knew one thing:

This wasn’t just about protection anymore.

This wasours.

When we finally lay tangled in the sheets, her head on my chest and her breath slowing against my skin, I brushed a hand through her hair and said it out loud.

“I’m not letting you go, Emery.”

She looked up at me, eyes shining.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

18

Emery

The house felt different the next morning.

Quieter.

Safer.

Maybe it was because Viktor was in custody. Or maybe it was because I’d finally stopped pretending I didn’t care what happened to me.

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