18. Chapter Eighteen #3
My chest heaves, ragged breaths fueling the inferno raging between us. I shove her dress higher, exposing the silk-soft skin beneath. Her legs part willingly, inviting my touch, needing it. My fingers slip between her thighs, rough, possessive strokes making her tremble violently against the wall.
“Louder,” I command darkly, lips dragging along the curve of her neck, biting just enough to sting, to claim. “Say it again. Let me fucking hear it.”
“You own me,” she gasps, fingers clawing desperately at my back. “Every part of me, Kane. Body, heart, soul…all yours.”
Her words annihilate the last shred of my control. I free myself, slamming into her in a single, brutal thrust, burying myself deep, relentless, merciless. She screams my name, nails sinking into my shoulders, holding on as I ravage her, claiming her body, her mind, her very fucking essence.
Every thrust punishes us both, the violence of my need undeniable, terrifying, intoxicating. Her hips roll against me, meeting every fierce, ruthless drive with a demand of her own. We’re a beautiful disaster, destruction wrapped in skin, devouring each other as if salvation lies in mutual ruin.
“Mine,” I snarl into her mouth, branding the word onto her tongue. “Always fucking mine.”
She shatters around me, tightening impossibly, a tortured moan tearing from her throat. Her climax rips through her, violent and devastating, dragging me over the edge with her. I erupt inside her with a savage growl, spilling into her the depth of my obsession, marking her irrevocably.
Breathing harshly, forehead pressed to hers, I remain buried deep, still holding her pinned, feeling the aftershocks ripple through us both.
“Never forget this,” I rasp, possessive and broken. “You asked for the monster.”
Her trembling fingers brush my jaw, soft yet certain. She meets my gaze, unwavering even in ruin. “I didn’t ask, Kane,” she whispers fiercely, breathlessly. “I summoned him.”
***
Later, tangled together in my bed, her hair sprawled like midnight silk across my chest, I trace slow, possessive circles along her spine. The room is heavy with darkness, the quiet only punctured by our synchronized breathing, raw and uneven.
My thumb strokes gently over her hip bone, an anchor to remind myself she’s still here, still mine, despite the darkness I dragged her through tonight.
“Camille,” I murmur, my voice rough from our brutality, softer now but still edged with the vulnerability only she can unlock. “There’s something I want.”
She shifts slightly, lifting her head just enough to meet my eyes, wary curiosity flickering in her gaze. “Something else?”
My lips twitch, faintly amused. “Something important.”
She watches me cautiously, tracing invisible paths across my chest with delicate fingers. “Tell me.”
My heart drums unevenly beneath her touch, a strange sense of exposure making me tighten my hold. “I want you to meet my family.”
She goes perfectly still, her breath halting for just a heartbeat before resuming a little faster, uncertain. When she tilts her head back, her eyes search mine in the dimness, wary, hopeful, guarded. Vulnerable.
“You mean it?” Her voice is small, edged with disbelief and something fragile, almost breakable.
I catch her chin softly, tipping her face higher until the faint moonlight dances across her features. “I don’t bring people into my world, Camille. You know that.” My thumb strokes the curve of her cheekbone. “But you…you belong in every corner of it.”
A tremor slips through her. “Will they like me?” she whispers, vulnerability flickering through her voice like an ache she’s afraid to admit.
My heart twists, fierce and possessive, at the uncertainty in her tone. I gather her closer, holding her tighter as if to shield her from every harm.
“They’ll love you,” I murmur, voice rough with sincerity. “Because I do, and they’ll see exactly why.”
Her hand slides up my chest, settling over my heart, feeling its ruthless rhythm beneath her touch. Her words come softly, uncertain and delicate, yet stronger than steel.
“You promise?”
I cup her jaw gently, kissing her slowly, deeply, letting her feel every unspoken vow in the tenderness of my touch.
“I promise, Camille,” I whisper against her lips, a rare honesty threading my voice. “They’ll see you’re the only good thing the darkness ever brought me.”
She sighs softly, melting against me, her fingers tightening possessively. “I…I can’t wait to meet them.”
Camille
I step slowly down the stairs, heels clicking softly on polished marble.
The sound echoes softly, chasing my pulse, quick, jittery, reckless.
I grip the railing tighter, swallowing down the nerves tangling through me.
It’s just Kane downstairs. Kane, whose hands know my secrets better than my own skin.
Kane, who’s seen me stripped raw, shattered, rebuilt, and who still craves more of the pieces.
But today feels different. Today, he’s giving me something he guards fiercely: a glimpse into his world. His family.
And I don’t know what scares me more, that I’ll disappoint them, or that I won’t.
Pausing near the bottom, I smooth my palms down the shimmering fabric of my dress. Gold, liquid-soft silk hugs my curves, draping effortlessly down my body like it was stitched for me. Knowing Kane, it probably was.
My curls are piled high, pinned loosely enough to let stray tendrils brush my bare shoulders, my neck.
And my perfume…God, when I found it waiting for me…
a fresh bottle of vanilla, neroli, jasmine, my scent, my armor, I nearly collapsed.
How he found it, knew it was mine, is beyond me.
But Kane doesn’t do coincidences. He does intention, obsession, possession.
My scent on me, his gift, another invisible chain between us.
The air shifts suddenly, a prickle on the back of my neck. I turn my head slowly, heart stalling as my gaze collides with his. He stands by the doorway, all dark shadows and violent beauty, his stare fixed on me, hot, intense, stripping me bare from a distance.
Heat races under my skin, my cheeks warming beneath his scrutiny.
“Camille.” His voice is low, gravelly, possessive. A caress. A warning.
I step forward, my sandals clicking softly. “Do I look okay?” My voice comes quieter than I wanted, betraying how much I need his answer.
He doesn’t reply right away. He just stares, devouring me inch by careful inch. My pulse jumps, restless and aching under his silence. He crosses the room slowly, predatory grace defining every step, until he stands inches away.
“You’re perfection,” he finally murmurs, eyes locked on mine, voice raw and edged with something like awe. His fingers brush lightly down my jaw, tracing my throat, sliding softly along my collarbone, igniting every nerve along the way.
A shiver slips down my spine. “The perfume,” I whisper, barely breathing, “how did you…?”
“I pay attention.” His thumb grazes the pulse hammering wildly at the hollow of my neck. “I remember every detail that matters. And everything about you matters.”
My breath stutters, lungs tight. He tips my chin higher, forcing my gaze up to meet his again.
“Are you ready?” he asks, voice gentle but laced with steel.
A thousand responses claw up my throat, I’m scared, I’m excited, I’m not sure I deserve this. Instead, I nod, brave enough to lie convincingly.
“Yes.”
He watches me closely, searching for cracks in my armor. Slowly, he nods back, fingers sliding possessively around mine, lacing us together like an unspoken promise.
“Good,” he whispers. “Because they’re going to see exactly what I see.”
“What’s that?” I ask quietly, almost afraid to hear his answer.
His eyes soften, dark and devastating. “The reason I breathe.”
Kane
I grip the steering wheel harder, knuckles white, jaw locked so tight it fucking aches.
My gaze flickers constantly between the road ahead, the mirrors, and the sleek black SUVs trailing behind us.
Every vehicle packed with security, my men, armed and lethal, each of them aware of the unspoken rule: Camille’s life before theirs.
She sits beside me, quiet, almost serene.
Her delicate fingers rest lightly in her lap, the gold silk of her dress shimmering softly against her skin.
My eyes cut briefly to her throat, to the pulse beating gently there.
She thinks she’s hiding the tension in her spine, the quickened breath she tries to control.
But I feel it. I feel every fucking tremor she tries to disguise.
It’s driving me insane.
This is the first time she’s left the fortress of my compound since Miami, the first time I’ve moved her openly, exposed to an enemy whose name still evades me.
My nerves are frayed, razor-sharp edges slicing deeper with every mile closer to Diego’s compound.
I don’t know if this is brilliance or madness, bringing her out here like this. Maybe both.
But Diego’s estate is a fortress, just like mine. And right now, with her life tangled in danger I still can’t fully name, the line between family and ally blurs sharply. I need Diego’s loyalty, his watchful eye, his strength. Camille’s safety is worth the risk of exposure.
The gates loom up ahead, massive iron doors that open as we approach. Diego’s guards nod briefly, exchanging quick, coded glances with my security team. There’s a flurry of murmurs into radios, a synchronized understanding that nothing happens to Camille.
The driveway is wide, circular, grand. My tires crunch over gravel, the tension in my muscles only tightening as I park.
The air shifts immediately, laughter dying down slightly, music lowering as curious eyes lift from their conversations to track us.
Friends, cousins, men whose loyalty to Diego is unquestioned, but not necessarily to her. Yet.