“That is not necessary. I already have the invitation. They will allow me entry whether you are present or not.”
My stomach twists. I’m deeply moved that he was helping me all along, relieved that there might be a way back to New York, back to my own realm. But the thought of leaving him squeezes my heart.
“Thank you, Ronan,” I murmur, though the words feel inadequate.
“No need to thank me. A promise is a promise.” He gives a stiff nod, his gaze momentarily shifting away as the muscle in his jaw tenses ever so slightly.
Folding the paper again, I place it back on the table and wrap my arms around his neck. “I started this mission with you, and I’m going to stick around until the end. I mean, if that’s all right with you…my lord.”
A genuine smile spreads across his face. An honest-to-God smile that crinkles his eyes and deepens the dimple in his cheek, melting me like chocolate.
“I would love nothing more.” He pulls me close, his strong arms wrapping around my waist. In one fluid motion, he lifts me and positions me to straddle his lap, trapping his lengthening arousal between us. His hands slide up my thighs, fingertips grazing sensitive skin. My breath catches when his thumbs brush the edges of my hips, drawing small circles that stoke the fire growing within me. His gaze locks on mine, eyes darkening with desire.
His hands find the curve of my waist, guiding me as we move together. Each shift sends waves of pleasure rippling through me, building steadily with every heartbeat. The water swirls around us, warm and soothing, amplifying every sensation. My fingers tangle in his damp hair, pulling him closer as our movements become a slow, sensual rhythm. Time seems to blur, the boundaries between us dissolving in the haze of steam and desire as the world outside fades away until there’s nothing but the two of us.
The light outside begins to wane while Ronan andI dress. His perfectly tailored burgundy coat is adorned with gold accents that highlight the breadth of his shoulders. His dark hair is brushed back, slick and shiny from the bath.
Just before we step out the door, he turns to me. His eyes search mine, and without a word, he closes the distance between us. His lips meet mine in a deep, lingering kiss that steals my breath and fills me with a warm emotion I hesitate to name.
“Wait,” I say, my hand flying up to my bare throat. “Won’t they be suspicious if I’m not wearing your collar?”
“You will be.”
He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a ribbon—a choker similar to the pawn collar but unmistakably different. It’s crafted from rich velvet in the same deep crimson as his jacket and edged with delicate gold thread and with tiny jewels that sparkle in the low light.
He steps closer, his fingers brushing against my skin as he fastens it around my neck.
“There,” he says softly, his gaze lingering on me. “It suits you.”
I run my fingers along the velvet. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper. “But will it…” I’m not sure how to ask the question without sounding distrustful.
“No, but others will assume it will perform the same as the collar.”
Relief washes over me, but before I can respond, his warm hand settles on my waist, fingers pressing through the fabric of my dress. His other hand lifts, and calloused fingertips trail along my neck to where the edge of the choker meets my skin. The contrast of his delicate touchagainst the strength I know he possesses sends a shiver coursing through me. A fresh wave of heat pools deep within, stirring an ache I can’t ignore.
“However,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a husky timbre that vibrates between us. “I hope you will not begrudge me my fantasy that it is something much more meaningful.”
Our faces are mere inches apart now, breaths mingling in the charged space between us.
My words are barely above a whisper when I finally manage to speak. “What fantasy would that be?”
The hand at my waist slides to the small of my lower back, pulling me flush against him. The heat of his body seeps through my dress, igniting every nerve. His other hand strokes my throat, his fingers pressing possessively against my pulse. As he squeezes, fire rolls down my spine, leaving me breathless.
“That you wear my collar because you are mine. Not because of the consequences but because it is what you wish to be. As much as I wish to be yours.”
Emotion swells within me, a tidal wave crashing against my carefully constructed walls. My eyes sting with unshed tears, and I swallow hard.
“I want you to be mine too, Ronan,” I breathe, my voice trembling with desire, with passion, with love. “But even more than that, I want to be yours.”
He captures my lips in a passionate kiss. His mouth moves against mine with a fervent need, lips soft yet demanding as they part to deepen the connection. I respond eagerly, my hands sliding up to grip his shirt. His hand slips from my throat, and he cradles the back of my head, fingers weaving through my hair.
A distant chime sounds through the room, the clock marking the hour with a gentle clang. The sound breaks through the haze, reminding us of the world beyond these walls, beyond us.
We pull apart slowly, foreheads resting together as we catch our breaths.
“It’s time to finish the mission,” I whisper, smiling up at the man I love. My fingers trace the line of his jaw, roughened by a shadow of stubble. “Let’s get you through tonight so you can put the pain of your past behind you and move on with your life.”
“Move on with my life. Of course.”
