Page 112 of Stalked
My jaw tightens.
“But I don't need to understand it.” Her fingers curl into my shirt. “I just need to know that when you're covered in bloodand darkness, you'll still come home to me. That you won't let it consume everything we are.”
“Lia—”
“I spent fifteen years running because I thought love was supposed to be simple. Clean. Something that fit into the life I'd built—career-focused, organized, controlled.” She rises on her toes, bringing her mouth closer to mine. “But we were never going to be simple. You're chaos wrapped in emerald smoke, and I'm the girl who can't stop breathing you in.”
The words crack something open in my chest.
“I love you.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Not despite the darkness. Not separate from it. I love the man who orchestrated my return and the one who hunted me through a forest. The boy who kissed me at eighteen and the man who tortures his enemies. All of it. All of you.”
I crush my mouth to hers.
She opens for me immediately, her body molding against mine as if she were designed for this exact fit. My hands slide into her hair, tilting her head to take the kiss deeper.
“I can't go back.” She breaks away just enough to speak, her lips brushing mine with each word. “To New York. To a life without you in it. I tried, and it nearly destroyed me.”
“No more running.” I walk her backward until her spine hits the mirror. “From me. From this.”
“No more running,” she agrees.
I spin her around, pressing her palms flat against the glass. She watches me in the reflection, her pupils blown wide with desire. My hands slide under her dress, bunching the fabric at her waist.
“Watch.” I position myself behind her, my cock hard against the curve of her ass. “See how perfect we fit together.”
Her breath fogs the mirror as I hook her underwear aside and thrust into her in one smooth motion. She gasps, her back arching.
“Perfect,” I growl against her ear, pulling back only to drive deeper.
Her body clamps around me, wet heat pulling me deeper as I set a brutal rhythm. The mirror magnifies everything—the flush spreading down her neck, the way her breasts sway with each thrust, how her mouth falls open when I hit that perfect angle.
“Look at you.” I wrap her hair around my fist, forcing her gaze to the reflection. “Taking my cock like you were made for it. Like your body remembers exactly who owns it.”
“Vane—” My name breaks on her lips.
“Tell me what you see, wildflower.”
Her eyes meet mine in the glass, hazy with pleasure. “I see us. Together.”
“What else?” I slide my hand around her throat, not squeezing—just holding. A reminder of who commands this moment.
“I see how you look at me.” Her breath stutters as I grind against that spot inside her. “Like I'm your world.”
My hips slam forward harder, chasing the building pressure at the base of my spine. “Because you are. Fifteen years without you, Lia. Fifteen fucking years of suffocating while you were an entire state away.”
She pushes back against me, meeting each thrust with desperate need. “Never again. I'm right here.”
“Mine.” I release her throat to grip her hip, angling her so I can go impossibly deeper. “My wildflower. My fucking everything.”
“Yours.” Her palm slaps against the mirror as tremors wrack through her thighs. “All of me. Every—oh god—every piece.”
Her walls flutter around me, the telltale sign she's close. I reach between her legs, finding that swollen bundle of nerves and circling it with ruthless precision.
“Come for me.” The command rumbles from somewhere primal. “Let me feel you shatter.”
She screams my name as the orgasm tears through her, her entire body convulsing. The sight of her undone in the mirror—hair wild, skin flushed, completely lost to pleasure—breaks my control. I follow her over the edge, burying myself deep as release crashes through me in devastating waves.
We stay locked together as the aftershocks fade, both of us trembling. I turn her in my arms, needing her face. Her real eyes, not the reflection.
