by Measha Stone
Jaelynn smiled. “Yeah, and he looks all surly about something.”
“Why would that make you smile?” Azalea asked. Out of her new family, she’d found an instant friend in Jaelynn.
“It’s the same sort of surliness Hunter gets.” Jaelynn leaned closer to Azalea when she walked past. “It’s a good sign. Trust me.” She patted her shoulder. “No. You stay away from them.” Jaelynn blocked Damien when he tried to follow.
Azalea giggled. For the first time in days, and it felt good. “Just give us a few minutes, okay, Damien?”
The irritated look he flashed Jae made Azalea laugh again.
“Fine. But only a few minutes.” He turned his attention to Jaelynn who remained a solid block. “Jae, if you don’t get out of my way, I’m going to pick you up and take you to your room.”
“Pfft. Like that scares me,” Jaelynn teased.
“Then I’m going to get Hunter and tell him you were putting your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
That seemed to get Jaelynn’s attention. Azalea noticed similarities between how Hunter spoke with Jae and how Peter addressed her. She hadn’t gotten the nerve to ask about it yet, but she decided she’d need to soon.
“Bully,” Jae said and stalked off. “In the front room, Azalea. Make sure you shut the door,” she called over her shoulder and disappeared down the hall.
“Five minutes,” Damien told Azalea. “Then I’m coming in.”
“Damien.” Azalea pressed a flat hand to her brother’s chest. “Let me handle Peter.”
“You’re not alone now, Azalea,” he said with his eyes softening.
“She hasn’t been alone for weeks.” Peter’s voice set Azalea’s body on edge.
“It’s about damn time you showed up,” Damien snapped. Giving Azalea a supportive look, he pointed at Peter. “You have five minutes.” He patted Azalea’s hand and headed out of the room. She and Peter were alone in the kitchen.
Turning to face him, she couldn’t have been prepared to see him. A black patch covered his left eye, a stitched wound covered several inches of his left cheek. He hadn’t shaved in days; black stubble covered his chin and neck. The black T-shirt clung to his muscular torso and showcased the dark-inked tattoos covering his arms.
And he was wearing jeans.
“You’re wearing jeans.” The thought popped out of her mouth.
Peter huffed a light laugh. “That’s what you comment on? Not the pirate patch?”
“It’s just you never wear jeans. You always wear slacks.”
“Seems meeting you has made me start doing a lot of things I don’t normally do.” He moved toward her, filling the space with his presence.
She’d promised herself if he ever did show up again, she would harden herself to him. She would blow him off as easily as he’d tossed her aside. Unfortunately, the rest of her body hadn’t gotten the memo. Her heart already picked up its pace, and her skin craved his touch.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, looking at the patch.
“Not anymore.” He touched the edge of the patch. “Just waiting for everything to heal so I can get a glass eye.”
“I don’t think they’re made of glass anymore.” What the hell were they doing talking about his damn eye? Shouldn’t she be yelling at him for abandoning her?
“Well, we’ll find out,” he said, taking another step and yanking the neckline of the turtleneck down to see her throat. She didn’t stop him. The tiny bit of his touch on her neck felt too good to turn away. She twisted her head to give him a better view.
“It doesn’t hurt so much now,” she assured him when he didn’t say anything.
“I will never forgive Damien for killing that witch,” he muttered.
“He was protecting me.”
Peter let her turtleneck go and captured her face in his palms. His dark eye met hers and locked her in place. “I wanted to kill her. I should have shot her at the house. I never should have let her take you.”
Azalea wrapped her hands around his wrists, but didn’t move him.
“Why did you wait to see me? I waited for you. I kept expecting you to show up, and you never did.” Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. “After everything that happened, you just walked away. What are you here for?”
“You.”
“Me?” She pushed his hands away and walked around the kitchen island, knowing if she didn’t put something physical between them, she’d fall for his touches again. “Like you can just take me again?”
“No.” He shook his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I promised you’d always have a choice. And you do. I should have come to you the second I woke up. I never should have waited. I was an asshole.”
She felt her jaw drop and snapped her mouth closed. “I think I’ve mentioned that to you before.”
He grinned. “Yeah, you have. But this time, I agree. I was a complete fucking asshole for not running to your side. I thought you’d be glad to be rid of me. No more having to stay with me. With Gothel gone, and now you have a brother—I thought you would rather have him, start over without all the memories I would bring with me.”
She bit down on her lower lip and remained silent for a moment. She couldn’t just blurt things out as she had in the past. She needed to contain her thoughts, put them in order first.
“You idiot. I love you. Why would I want anyone but you?” Okay, she needed more practice. “You don’t bring any bad memories with you. I mean—okay, maybe we met in an unconventional way—but…” How to say it, how do you tell a man you love being his—being owned and controlled, and protected by him.
“But what?” He put his hand on the island and started toward her. “Go on, finish your snit.”
“You didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want or didn’t love. Even when you were being an asshole. Even when I couldn’t sit comfortably. Every bit of it was exactly as it should be with us.”
“Go on,” he ordered.
“But you can’t just fucking disappear on me.” Her voice rose. “I needed you, Peter. When I was lying in that hospital bed trying to figure out where I fit in the world now, I needed you. Because everything I knew turned out to be a lie. I have a new brother. I have no mother. The only thing that was real—or at least what I thought was real—was you. And you turned out to be a fake, too.” Tears she’d been battling for days finally fell, shaking her voice.
He was on her in an instant, pulling her against him and kissing the top of her head. She clung to him, maybe a little afraid he’d disappear again, or because she just needed to feel him close to her.
“You’re right,” he said after she calmed and her sobs quieted. “I should have been there. I should have let you make the call if you wanted me in your life or not. I’m sorry, sorrier than you’ll know. And to make it up to you, I won’t paddle your delicious ass for calling me an asshole.”
She pulled back from his embrace to look at his face, not sure if he was joking or not.
“What? It’s the least I can do for the woman I love.”
“You—” Her protest was cut off by his lips covering hers. He kissed her with a fever that could burn her. A warning and promise of things to come. And she wanted all of it.
“Promise me,” she managed to say when he released her.
“I swear it to you, Azalea, I’ll never leave you again. And you don’t need to figure out where you belong in this world. Because you already know.”
She looked up at him, that dark, demanding glare of his and nodded. She did know.
“Say it.” Bossy man.
“With you. I belong with you.” She wiped a strand of hair from his forehead. “Always.”
Chapter 26
Peter bent over the woman tied facedown to his bed, her ass a warm red, her back marked beautifully from his flogger, and her arousal glistening on her exposed pussy.
He kissed Azalea’s neck, trailing more of them down her back until he got to her ass. That, he smacked with his open pal
m, getting the sweetest sound of pain from her.
“You’ve been awfully good tonight.” He pulled her hips up until she managed to get to her knees. Her arms were tied to the headboard, so she wouldn’t be getting far that way. He lined up his cock with her hot entrance.
“Yes, I have,” she agreed. Funny how agreeable she could be when she was about to be fucked senseless.
“We’ll have to make this quick. We’re expected downstairs,” he said, gripping her hips.
“Way to ruin the moment,” she muttered, and earned another smack to her already-punished ass. She grunted, not the sort of sound that told him she was displeased.
“Quiet while I fuck you. Not a word, Azalea. I mean it. Not one fucking word.” He pinched her hip to test her. A little squeal but nothing else. “Good girl. Take your fucking.” He held her hips and plunged deep. Her pussy gripped him, surrounding his cock with warmth and wetness that didn’t give him a fucking chance in hell to go slow with her.
Not that she would want him to.
He pulled back and plowed forward again. Another grunt.
“You like that, Azalea?” he asked and paused to see if she would answer.
She nodded.
He laughed. “Good girl.” He reached forward, grabbing a fistful of her short hair and pulling her head back. “Fucking come for me, then.” He fucked her hard, their bodies smacking into each other. Her groans mixed with his grunts and it took no time for them both to find their fulfillment.
Azalea screamed out his name when she found her release. He let go of her hair and rode her until he exploded inside her, filling her with his seed, marking her body again as his.
And she was. Completely his.
Peter untied her wrists, kissing the markings the rope left behind. “I love seeing these,” he said, trailing his tongue over one.
“You like anything that shows others I belong to you,” Azalea teased, rolling onto her back and smiling up at him.
“That’s true.” He dropped a kiss to her forehead. “Get dressed. Ash and Ellie are waiting on us.”
Azalea sat up, wiping hair from her face. “Why would you get me all exhausted then tell me I have to spend the evening with people?” she asked.
She had a point. He probably should have waited until after they’d spent time in the club with his cousin, but when she’d stepped out of the shower with her hair messed and her body still wet, he wouldn’t deny himself.
“Because I can. Now scoot.” He gave her ass a quick swat to get her moving.
She grabbed the towel she’d been wearing when he’d snatched her and thrown her on the bed earlier and disappeared into her closet.
They’d been fully moved into the penthouse for almost a month. Tower was overflowing with patrons, thanks to Azalea’s marketing skills, and all of her physical wounds had healed. The scar on her neck was fading slowly, and with time he hoped she’d forget it was there altogether.
“How’s this?” She came out of a closet wearing a long purple dress, the V-neckline plunging down to her stomach showing some cleavage, but leaving most of her a mystery.
“I told you we don’t have much time. I’ll fuck you silly when we get home tonight. Stop tempting me,” he joked.
She put her hands on her hips. “Seeing as a bath towel did me in a little while ago, I feel like nothing in my closet is safe.”
“True enough.” He buttoned his shirt and finished tucking it in before grabbing his jacket. “Okay, let’s do this.” He took her hand and led her to the elevator that would take them down to the club.
Ellie and Ash were already seated in their private box.
“Finally,” Ash grumbled while the women hugged.
“Shut up.” Peter gave him a push.
“I ordered some appetizers,” Ellie said.
“Oh good. I’m starved.” Azalea smiled and leaned toward Ellie. “Let’s go out to lunch tomorrow. I saw a new restaurant on the lake opening up, and I want to try it.”
“Of course. We’ll make a day of it. I don’t have any classes.”
Peter watched Azalea making plans to explore the city. She couldn’t get enough of seeing new places and experiencing everything she hadn’t been allowed to growing up. Peter kept a close eye, though, making sure she didn’t overdo. Too much at once often made her solemn and fall quiet.
“The club is kicking ass.” Ash complimented him.
“I’m thinking of opening another floor. There are plenty of them in this building not being used.”
“We can have each floor be a different theme. Like one floor could be a domestic scene. Have it be a full-fledged restaurant,” Azalea chimed in with her ideas.
“I love it.” Ellie grinned. “What do you think, Ash?”
“Sounds like a solid idea.”
“Hey, that reminds me.” Ellie turned to Peter. “I couldn’t find one of my black dresses when I went to get ready for tonight. I know you took a few things for Azalea—which is totally fine—but do you remember that one? It’s got a low neckline—sort of how her dress is tonight?”
“Oh, yeah! I remember it,” Azalea said. “He did give it to me. I’ll find it and get it back to you. Sorry.”
“No, no that’s fine.” Ellie sipped her wine.
“You can’t return it,” Peter interjected.
“Why not?” Azalea asked.
Peter looked at her, enjoying the innocence of her expression at the moment. “Because it ripped when I tore it off you.”
The blush was quick to appear and raged hard on her cheeks. Ash burst out laughing.
“Peter,” Azalea chastised, looking mortified. “I’m so sorry, Ellie.”
“It’s fine. Really.” Ellie smiled, glancing at Ash. “It happens in this family.”
Peter picked up Azalea’s hand. “You have two families. You have Damien—and you have us.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “You could not be more loved, Azalea.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead.
His chest warmed. Taking the small box out of his pocket, he opened it and pulled out the ring he’d been hiding. “You were right. I love anything that marks you as mine.” He held the ring out to her. “Be my wife?”
“You’re asking?” Azalea searched his expression. He’d promised she’d always have a choice.
“It’s really more symbolic—but yes, I’m asking.” He grinned.
“Of course, I will.” She kissed him. He slid the ring, a silver band with a lilac stone surrounded by diamonds, onto her finger.
“Well, another Titon bites the dust.” Ash lifted his glass in a toast.
“Okay, we’ve socialized enough. Let’s go.” Peter stood up and grabbed her hand.
“We just got here,” Azalea pointed out, laughing while he pulled her from her seat.
“Ash and Ellie understand,” he assured her, giving Ash a nod and Ellie a wink—enjoying her blush almost as much as Azalea’s.
Peter led her back to the elevator and pressed the code for the penthouse.
Azalea held his hand tight. “You’ve given me everything, Peter.”
He pushed her against the glass wall and kissed her. “You are everything, Azalea.”
The elevator doors slid open, and remained that way until Peter finished kissing his fiancée.
“Three seconds to get out of this dress before I rip it off,” he ordered and gave her ass a resounding smack.
“Good thing, I saved time and didn’t wear any panties.”
He laughed. “You don’t have any to wear.” He loved controlling the use of her panties. Kept them in his drawer and doled them out when absolutely needed.
“I love you, Peter Titon.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“And I love you.” He kissed her. “One, two, three,” he rattled off the numbers and grabbed hold of her neckline.
And they lived mostly happily ever after…
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