14. Blade
Chapter 14
Blade
Sophie and I sit together on the small balcony outside my room as she excitedly recounts every detail of her first day at the clinic—from cleaning kennels to helping hold a puppy for vaccinations. The evening air carries a hint of autumn chill, but Sophie seems content wrapped in one of my hoodies, her legs draped across my lap as we share a beer.
"Did you mean what you told her?" she asks after a comfortable silence. "About the FBI?"
I nod, absently tracing patterns on her denim-clad knee. "Cipher's compiled everything. It's ready to go."
Sophie contemplates this, her expression thoughtful in the fading light. "What happens to the money? The inheritance she stole?"
"With the right lawyers, we can recover a good portion of it. The investments, the trust fund, maybe even the house." I watch her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. "It's yours, Sophie. All of it. You'll be financially independent. You can do whatever you want."
The implications of this sink in slowly, her eyes widening. "I could... go anywhere? Do anything?"
Something cold and sharp twists in my gut at her words. The thought of her leaving—taking her newfound freedom and wealth somewhere far from Wraithport, far away from me—is physically painful. But I force myself to nod.
“Go anywhere. Do anything." My voice comes out rougher than intended. "You could finish your vet tech program at any school in the country. Buy your own place. Start fresh." Without me hangs unspoken between us.
She studies me, those sea-green eyes eerily perceptive. "Is that what you want? For me to leave?” When her bottom lip trembles, I realize I may not have expressed my own desires clear enough.
"Fuck no," I admit, unable to lie about this, not to her. "I want you here at the club. With me. Always."
I reach for the small leather bundle beside me. I wasn’t sure if tonight was the right time for it or not, but I kept it close just in case. “But I need you to choose to stay. Not because you're trapped or out of fear or gratitude, but because it's what you want."
“Really?” Tears pool in her eyes. “Do you really want me to stay with you?”
I unwrap the bundle, revealing what's inside—a custom-made leather cut, smaller and fitted to her frame, with the Shadow Reapers emblem on the back and, beneath it, the words “Princess” and “Property of Blade" in elegant script.
"In the club, this means something," I explain, watching her expression carefully. “If you accept, it means you're my ol’ lady. My woman. It means you're mine, and I'm yours." I swallow hard, vulnerability not coming easily to me. “Like marriage…only more.”
Her fingers trace the lettering, her touch almost reverent. "Property," she repeats softly.
"Not the way she meant it," I assure her quickly. "Not ownership. Belonging—to each other." I struggle to find the right words, more used to giving orders than explaining feelings. "It's about having a place. Having someone who puts you first. Always."
She looks up, eyes shining with emotion I can't quite read. "And if I want to wear this, but also want to finish school? Have a career? Have some independence?"
"Then that's what happens. I'd never cage you, Sophie. Never try to clip your wings." I cup her face in my hand, thumb brushing her cheekbone. "I just want to be your home base. The place you come back to."
She leans forward, pressing her forehead to mine. “Good. It’s what I want too."
The soft admission unravels something in my chest. I pull her closer, shifting her fully onto my lap, needing her warmth against me, needing the reassurance that she's choosing me despite now having options.
"So you'll wear it?" I ask, unable to keep the hopeful edge from my voice.
“Hell yeah.” Her smile is radiant in the gathering dusk. "Help me put it on."
I stand, bringing her with me, and hold the cut open for her to slip her arms through.
She turns slowly, looking over her shoulder to try to see the back. "How does it look?"
"Like you belong to me," I growl, pulling her against me, need surging hot and fierce through my veins. "Like you're mine."
"Yours," she agrees, rising on tiptoes to brush her lips against mine. "And you're mine."
The simple declaration hits me with unexpected force. I've belonged to the club, to my brothers, to the code we live by. But I've never belonged to a woman before. Never wanted to, until her.
I deepen the kiss, one hand tangling in her hair, the other splayed across the small of her back, pressing her closer. She responds eagerly, arms winding around my neck, fitting herself against me.
"I love you," she whispers against my lips, the words trembling with emotion.
The declaration breaks something open inside me, some final wall I didn't know still stood. "I love you too, princess. More than I thought possible." The words feel foreign on my tongue, but undeniably right.
I back her toward the bedroom, need and tenderness warring within me. She goes willingly, eagerly, her hands already working at the buttons of my shirt with newfound confidence.
"Show me," she demands softly, green eyes blazing. "Show me I'm yours."
My control snaps. I lift her, hands gripping her thighs as she wraps her legs around my waist. Her back hits the bedroom wall, my mouth devouring hers as I grind against her. She moans into the kiss, fingernails scraping down my now-exposed chest.
"You want me to show you who you belong to?" I growl against her throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
"Yes," she gasps, head falling back, exposing more of her neck to my hungry mouth.
I carry her to the bed, tossing her onto the mattress. She bounces slightly, hair fanning out across the pillows, lips swollen from my kisses. Her eyes never leave mine as I strip off my jeans, my cock springing free, hard and aching for her.
"Keep the cut on," I command when she starts to shrug out of the leather. "Just the cut."
Understanding flashes in her eyes. She slowly removes everything else—her shirt lifting to reveal perfect breasts, jeans sliding down slender legs—until she's wearing nothing but the leather cut, the Shadow Reapers emblem and Property of Blade against her bare skin.
"Fuck," I breathe, the sight of her nearly bringing me to my knees.
I join her on the bed, spreading her thighs with my hands, exposing her glistening center to my hungry gaze. She's already wet, pink folds swollen with need. I lower my head, tasting her with a broad stroke of my tongue that makes her cry out.
"You taste like heaven," I murmur against her sensitive flesh, circling her clit with deliberate pressure before sucking it between my lips.
Her hips buck wildly as I slide two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them to find that spot that makes her clench around me. She's writhing now, hands fisting in the sheets as I work her toward her first climax.
"Blade," she pants, thighs trembling as I increase the pressure. "I need you—inside me—please."
I rise up her body, positioning myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her slick heat. The leather cut frames her breasts as I push forward, watching her face as I fill her inch by inch, stretching her around my considerable girth.
"So fucking tight," I groan, fighting for control as her body welcomes me. "Made for me."
She wraps her legs around my waist, heels digging into my ass, urging me deeper. I withdraw almost completely before thrusting back in hard, setting a punishing rhythm that has the headboard slamming against the wall.
I watch her breasts bounce with each thrust, with the force of our joining. She gasps, meeting each thrust with an arch of her hips.
I hook one arm under her knee, changing the angle to drive deeper, hitting that spot inside her that makes her walls clench around me. Her nails rake down my back, leaving marks I'll wear proudly tomorrow.
When I feel her getting close, I reach between us, circling her clit with my thumb in time with my thrusts. She shatters beneath me, crying out my name as her inner muscles spasm around my cock, milking me, pulling me deeper.
The sight of her coming undone while wearing my property patch—my mark—sends me over the edge. I drive into her one final time, emptying my seed deep inside her with a primal groan, claiming her in the most basic way a man can claim a woman.
Afterward, as she lies curled against me, sated and sleepy, I allow myself to truly believe it—she's mine.
"We should get Max his own cut," she murmurs against my chest, the absurd suggestion making me chuckle despite myself.
"Don't push it, princess." I press a kiss to the top of her head. "The dog already thinks he runs the place."
Her soft laugh vibrates against my skin, the sound more precious to me than anything. This woman, who endured years of cruelty without losing her capacity for joy, for love, has become everything to me in the span of a single week.
"Tomorrow," I tell her, making plans aloud, "we'll talk to the lawyer about your inheritance. Start the process of getting your money back."
"Mmm," she agrees drowsily. "And then maybe look at schools nearby? For vet tech programs?"
"Anything you want," I promise, meaning it completely. "The world is yours now, Sophie."
She raises her head, those remarkable eyes finding mine in the dim light. "I just want you. The rest is details."
As she drifts off to sleep, the leather cut still hugging her shoulders, I allow myself to imagine our future—not something I've ever done before. Sophie finishing her education. Building a career. Coming home to me each night. Finding the balance between freedom and belonging that she's been denied for so long.
And I'll be there, loving her, protecting her, watching her become everything she was meant to be before tragedy and cruelty interrupted her path. This princess doesn't need rescuing anymore—she's saving herself now, with a strength that leaves me in awe.
But she's still mine. And I'm still hers. And that, I realize as sleep claims me, makes me the luckiest bastard alive.
***
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