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Staring up at him, seeing the complete sincerity in his face, she erupted again.
“You freak,” she gasped. “Your dick is always hard.”
“Just for you,” he assured her with a mocking frown. “And I’m so serious, it’s harder.”
To prove his point he slid between her legs, the broad head meeting the slick flesh between her thighs.
“And you’re wet,” he groaned. “Slick and hot. Say yes so we can celebrate.”
And she wanted to say yes. She wanted to say yes so bad she could barely stand it.
“I can’t,” she moaned, pleasure racing through her. “I can’t say yes yet.”
“What?” He stilled, staring down at her in surprise. “Why? Of course you can.”
“No. Not yet.” She almost laughed again at his expression of offended male pride. “You have to ask my father for my hand first.” Now didn’t that statement sound strange as hell.
He blinked once. “You mean J.T., right?”
“Duke.” She pouted. “Dad would be so disappointed.” It was all she could do not to laugh at him again.
“I’m going to have erectile dysfunction,” he whispered. “I know I am.”
Angel rolled her eyes. “You already have erectile dysfunction. You’re always erect. That has to be some kind of dysfunction.”
“You are a cruel woman,” he informed her piteously.
But he was moving against her, pushing inside her.
Angel’s breath caught. Heat began sizzling over her body, the blood racing hard and fast through her veins as he took her by slow degrees. Forging inside her, retreating, impaling her further, he stole her senses as he’d already stolen her heart.
“Oh, baby,” he whispered against her lips, his breathing growing heavier, his muscles tightening as he worked the heavy length of his cock inside her. “You feel so good. So perfect.”
Vocal and expressive, the words sent a glow of added pleasure, like a ribbon wrapping around her soul, warming every part of her.
Each slow thrust was the ultimate caress, stroking over flesh more sensitive than ever and rushing through her senses faster than ever before.
“I love you.” Her arms tightened around him, her hips moving beneath his, lifting closer.
Those strong, powerful thrusts quickened, pushing her closer to the edge of ecstasy.
She could feel the static fingers of sensation racing through her. They tightened with each deep penetration, each stroke of heat and pleasure. Her hands tightened at his shoulders, nails pricking his flesh. Her neck arched for the heated, desperate kisses he spread down it.
Sensation upon sensation until she felt herself coming apart beneath him, felt her soul flying, colliding with his and exploding in showers of rich, vivid emotion.
In that moment Angel knew she was home. Right here in Duke’s arms.
She was home.
• • •
Arriving at the hospital several hours later, she and Duke stepped into the waiting room to find J.T., Mara, Tracker, and Chance talking with Natches. The Calloways had shown up in Somerset at midnight the night Chaya had been shot, then headed straight for Lexington and, like Angel and Duke, they hadn’t left the hospital until late the night before.
Moving to them Angel hugged J.T. and Mara, then the foster brothers she’d fought with for so long. Turning to Natches, she saw his gaze drop to her hand and that little flash of disappointment in his gaze before he could hide it.
“You’re just in time,” he told her. “She regained consciousness about an hour or so ago while I was with her. They’re letting the three of us in to see her in about thirty minutes.”
She couldn’t speak. Angel felt her throat close with emotion, and fought to simply breathe.
