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I don’t care. My back is bowed from the force of it, my body held up by his arms, his strength, and the intensity of his feelings slicing through the hold the memories of captivity had on my mind, finally freeing me from them.
I believe him. Austin signed his own death warrant, and the darkness in me rises up and relishes every fucking bit of Maddoc’s intensity as I kiss him back.
He finally releases me with a dark, possessive growl, his entire body still vibrating with emotion. For a moment, I think he’s going to say something more. Instead, he pins each of his seconds with a dark look, then strides out of the kitchen, pulling his phone out as he goes.
A moment later, we all hear the front door slam as he leaves the house.
I blink, lifting a hand to touch my tingling lips, then looking to the other men to explain whatever it was that wordlessly passed between the three of them just now. “Where’s he going?”
“He’s going to make sure you’re safe from McKenna,” Logan says flatly, his pale gaze just as intense and lethal as the anger Maddoc took with him.
“He’s gonna handle some shit with our people,” Dante adds grimly, the easy demeanor I’m used to from him nowhere to be found. “He needs to make sure our territory is secure and fortify protection around our key holdings so that when McKenna comes for us, we can fend him off.”
I suck in a deep breath and slowly exhale. It sounds like Maddoc’s doing everything we were already talking about over breakfast, but the way he left… that’s my fault.
“I shouldn’t have said anything about what happened with West Point. I didn’t mean to piss him off.”
Dante offers a sympathetic look. “No, it’s good that you didn’t lie. We need to know this shit, princess. Madd will be fine. He just needs to work things out on his own for a bit, and putting things in motion to take control of the situation is gonna help him get a handle on his emotions.”
“Okay,” I say, forcing myself to stop twisting my hands together when I realize that’s what I’m doing. I take a breath and repeat it, grateful for Dante’s explanation. “Okay. Fine. That’s… good. As long as he’s going to be okay.”
“He will be,” Dante promises, pausing as he gives me an intense look. Then he lets out a gusty breath, his lips quirking in a faint imitation of his usual smirk. “Although speaking of getting a handle on emotions—” He jerks his head toward the stairs. “I’m gonna need you to come with me for a few.”
I almost reassure him that I’m fine again, but something in his face stops me. I share a look with Logan as I follow Dante out of the room, and even though I can’t say why, it settles me.
I follow Dante up to his studio.
“Do you want me to paint again to get my feelings out, like I did before?” I ask, not hating the idea even though I’m not sure I need to right now.
He chuckles, giving me a rueful look as he pulls me against him. “Nah, not this time.” He cups my face, letting his thumb brush back and forth across my cheek in a gentle caress that reminds me just how much I matter to this man. “When I mentioned getting a handle on emotions, I was talking about me, not you.”
My heart does a slow roll in my chest, and for an endless moment, I get lost in the vibrant green intensity of his eyes.
“Maddoc wasn’t the only one who heard that shit you told us down there, princess,” he says, getting more serious than I’ve ever seen him. “Having you gone was hell on all of us, and I—” His voice cracks, but his gaze never wavers, his entire soul laid bare to me. “I care about you, so fucking much. I want to paint you right now. A portrait.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, feeling a little bashful at the thought. Portraits aren’t his usual style, and it feels intimate, important in a way that transcends what he’s shown me with his art in the past.
Dante nods, covering my heart with his hand. “I need to commit this shit to canvas,” he says quietly.
15
RILEY
It’s nota confession of love, not in words, but it feels so close to it that tears spring to my eyes, my heart stuttering in my chest as the enormity of the bond between us crashes over me.
I kiss him, giving him my own confession that way, and he grips the back of my head, tangling his hands in my hair, and deepens it.
This man does things to me. He has since the first. And it doesn’t take long before the emotion between us sparks into heat.
“Can’t ever fucking get enough of you,” he growls against my lips, hauling me against his body. “That’s… why… I want…”
His mouth on mine is hot and demanding between each word, but he trails off to tip my head back and suck on my throat, making us both groan.
I know what he wants. He wants to paint me. Keep me. Memorialize this feeling, this connection that’s been between us from the start. But we’re both distracted now, and when he tugs at my clothing I help him get me naked, I return the favor by yanking his shirt off, eager to reconfirm our connection another way.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he says, stepping back for a moment to run his hands down my sides. He frames my pussy with them. “This right here is my own personal heaven, princess. You know that, right?”
“Dante,” I say, my throat closing up even as heat blooms in my core. “I—”
