Final Debt (Indebted #6)(116)

He hovered over me, eyes heavy with lust, his jaw shadowed with sexy stubble. The attraction between us throbbed to unbearable levels.

We’d lived through more than anyone would in their lifetime. And despite all the wrongs we’d endured, the delicious provocative taste of danger still lurked around us.

Jethro was dangerous. He would always be dangerous—not because of his lineage or wealth but because of what he was. However, he was also the gentlest person I’d ever met, building walls and mechanisms in order to live in a world of overstimulation and noise.

He was also the strongest person I’d ever known. If I dealt with physical imbalances upsetting me daily, I couldn’t image the strength it took to stay true to yourself even when there were so many avenues in which to disappear.

His hands gripped my hips. His mouth parted, pressing against mine. Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss, sending me spiralling in his arms. His lips were soft but demanding. His tongue silky but possessing. There was no escape from such control.

I sensed him everywhere, all around me, inside me. His flaws. His triumphs. But most of all his selfless love. He loved me enough to do what he did to his father. Enough to follow me around the world. And enough to put an end to the six-hundred-year-old feud between Weavers and Hawks.

I skated my hands over his taut spine, tracing his hips to grab his cock. The heat of him was still damp from our shower.

“Ask me again. Now that it’s all over.”

Jethro frowned, his pulse thundering. “Ask you—”

Then understanding filled his gaze. He kissed me sultry and sweet. “Nila ‘Threads’ Weaver…will you marry me?”

The intensity in his voice burst my heart.

I nodded. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”

“Everything you feel for me, Nila. It’s so intense. Too intense. I need you to never take that away from me. I don’t think I’d survive if you did.”

“I promise.”

A lazy smile—the first I’d seen in weeks—stole his lips. “I’m going to make you keep that promise.”

The melancholy disappeared as the dawn switched brighter into daylight. “Oh? How so?”

His hand slipped down my body, moving between my legs. “By claiming you every day for the rest of our lives.” His gaze hooded as he stroked my clit with sensuous fingers. Everything about him was wicked and wild and so shamelessly real. “Help me, Nila. Help me show you how much I love you.”

I didn’t need instructions.

Opening my legs, I let his touch drop downward, stroking my entrance, slowly inserting a finger.

My hand stroked him in return, rippling over the velvety stone of his erection.

My back bowed as his thumb pleasured my clit, effortlessly playing me into a ballad of pleasure.

I cried out as his one finger turned to two. The pressure became indescribably decadent.

With his free hand, he caught my hips, holding me as I rocked on his hand. “God, you’re beautiful.” His voice was desperate, his fingers f*cking me almost leisurely but completely possessively.

Uncurling my fingers from around his cock, he pressed his erection against my thigh. “Feel me. Feel how much I want you—not just now, but for the rest of our lives.”

My hands flew downward again, recapturing him, working him faster, harder.

He groaned, driving his fingers inside me, matching my vicious beat.

A ripple of bliss caught me; I moaned as his thumb continued strumming. “Jethro…”

He stopped. “Don’t come. I don’t want you to come. Not yet.” His teeth caught my ear as his harsh breath sent delightful goosebumps over my skin. “Not until I’m inside you and claiming your body as well as your heart.” His voice held a warning, growling with bite.

“Jethro…take me, please.”

His lips fell into a stunning smile. His fingers withdrew, and he smeared my wetness around my throat where the diamond collar rested. A slight shadow clouded his eyes. “You’ll wear this for the rest of your life.”

“I know.”

“I’ll try to find a way to take it off.”

I shook my head. “No, I like it.” Holding up my hands, I showed him my tattooed fingertips. “Just like I like these. Our beginning didn’t start the way a romance should, but I wouldn’t part with any memento. Including the Weaver Wailer.”

His forehead furrowed. “Let’s not call it that. It needs a new name.” His hips rocked, joining his puzzle piece with mine. His face darkened as the tip of his cock found my entrance. Without looking away, he sank inside me, impaling me slowly. His jaw clenched as my body welcomed him.

The slowness and friction of his penetration drove me mad.

I gasped as he pushed past the barrier of comfort, sinking his entire length inside me. Only once he sheathed completely and could speak through echoing pleasure did he whisper, “How about Hawk Redeemer?”

My core clenched around him. “I like it.”

“Me too.” The rasp of his voice drugged me as he rocked once, twice.

“Oh...” My eyes shot closed; all I focused on was where we joined. I’d never grow tired of sleeping with this man. Never cease loving him.

“Fuck, I love when you think those thoughts.” His eyes gleamed with awe. “They’re so strong and pure—it feels as though I’m reading your mind and not just your emotions.”