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“Watch me,” she insisted.
His response was a sound caught between a groan and a purr. His upper lip curled and he slammed his hips up as she went down. The resounding clash sparked stars. She moaned her approval. Submitting to her lead, he turned their lovemaking hard and rough. He let his wild side out, gripped her hair and yanked her mouth down to his, clashing their teeth, pounding into her from beneath.
They rolled on the mat, heedless of the burn, using the rush to heighten their endorphins. He met her crazy, feral need to be close. He pushed her on the mat, dragged her leg up and over his shoulder, and then pounded into her until the vein in his forehead bulged, until sweat dripped down every bronzed crevice of his body, until he went red and furious with need.
Daisy loved the possessive, carnal look in his eyes as he watched where they intimately joined. No one had ever looked at her like that… and she couldn’t quite place it. Not just lust, or need, or love… but ownership. Permanence. Never ending partnership. It sent her over the edge a second time. Watching her come had the same effect on him. He planted himself a final time, growled low into her neck, nipped her, and smothered her with his hard and sweaty body. He stayed seated long after he’d finished, raggedly breathing like an animal through his nose against her skin, holding her tight.
“I want to do that again,” he proclaimed, mouth still squished against her skin. It tickled. “In our bed.”
“Our bed?” she mumbled, frowning.
He looked at her as though she’d grown two heads. “Daisy. I’m moving in with you. I hope you know that. I’ll fucking sell my apartment. Elena will—”
A cold bucket of water doused over them. The anguish in his eyes returned.
“She can stay as long as she wants,” Daisy said, soothing him with her voice. She’d never wished more for Sloan’s gift of affecting emotion. If she had it, she could gift him with peace.
Maybe he saw that in her eyes because he muttered, “I love you. You know that right?”
She felt the blush steal over her face as she looked away, but he drew her gaze back to his.
“You know that, right?” he repeated, his gaze turning hard.
“Sure.”
“You need convincing.” He gathered her clothes and tossed them to her. “Back to your room, and I’ll start.”
She snorted a laugh but that earned her another scowl.
“I’m fucking serious, Daisy. You need to understand how I feel for you, and if that means I leave an impression—physically—then I’ll do it.” He swallowed hard. “You’re stuck with me.”
“I…” She goddamned blushed again. “God… saying that word is hard for me. I’ve never…”
He hopped into his shorts and then crawled up the length of her body to kiss her in a deep, invading sort of way. His deep voice shimmied through her. “You don’t like being vulnerable. I get it. But—” He kissed her again. “Get used to it. I’ll be saying it a lot. And while I don’t expect you to say it back to me now, eventually you will. A lot.”
* * *
Sometime later theywere in Daisy’s bed, naked, and recovering from another round of enthusiastic love making. Axel traced his fingers over new marks—small bruises and red lines—he’d made on her body and kissed them apologetically.
“At least these will go away,” he mumbled, his eyes turning dull in the dim light.
She captured his hand over her stomach and held it there… on the recent scars Julius’s scientist had left. The bad kind.
“Is the person who did this to you dead?” he asked, voice rough.
She sensed his violence like the heat of a flame emanating from his skin in the dark. “I think the actual person who held the scalpel is. But Julius isn’t.” Her own vision blurred but her resolve hardened. “Before you say anything, or declare your violent, gallant intentions to track him down, I need you to know his life is mine to end. It’s the only way I’ll be at peace.”
“How do you do it?” he asked. “How do you move on like that?” She sensed he had more to say so waited. “Will ending his life truly bring you peace?”
She shrugged. “No. But it’s a start.”
More silence. More tracing of the battle scars across her body, because that’s what they were. War wounds. The roadmap to her life.
“When Elena goes…” He squished his face on her stomach and breathed against her flesh. “I won’t have someone to blame. There will be no person to kill. I don’t know how…”
She dragged his head up so she could see into his eyes. “I did it by finding joy in the little things, Axel. That’s how you survive. That’s how you stay whole. Whether it’s a crack in the floor, a glimpse of sky, or a crushed daisy in my hand. I locked onto those small things and found peace in them. Now I’m here, finding joy in you.”
“Elena is my joy,” he said.
