Chapter 19 Cara
Cara
Nate kicks the bedroom door open and I barely register Mr. Darcy’s indignant yowl as he bolts past us.
Then my back hits the mattress and Nate is over me—around me—everywhere.
So much for taking things slow.
He kisses like he’s furious. Like he’s been holding back for ten years and the dam just broke. His hands are rough, impatient, yanking at my shirt, and I arch up to help him pull it over my head.
“Off,” he growls. “All of it. I want you naked. Now.”
The command shoots straight between my thighs. I’m already slick, have been since he kissed me in the hallway, but now I feel it pooling, soaking through my underwear.
He notices. His nostrils flare, scenting the air, and his pupils blow wide.
“Fuck.” His voice is wrecked. His hands find my bra clasp, unhook it, strip it away. “Your scent. All day. Couldn’t think.”
“Nate.”
“Torture.” He cups my breasts, thumbs dragging over my nipples, and I gasp.
He drops his head and takes one nipple into his mouth.
I cry out, my hands flying to his hair. He’s not gentle. He sucks hard, teeth grazing, biting just enough to sting. My back arches off the bed and more slick gushes out of me, soaking through my jeans now. I can feel it, slick and hot between my thighs.
“Please.”
He switches to the other breast, giving it the same rough attention. Licking. Biting. Sucking until the nipple is swollen and sensitive. His hand slides up to pinch the one his mouth just left, rolling it between his fingers, and I’m writhing beneath him, desperate for more.
“Ten years.” He speaks against my skin, his breath hot. His hand slides down my stomach, pops the button on my jeans.
“Then make me scream.”
He pulls back to look at me. His jaw is tight, his chest heaving. He looks half-feral. Nothing like the controlled deputy I’ve been dealing with since I came back to town. This is the Nate I remember. The one who used to pin me against walls and fuck me until I couldn’t walk straight.
“Careful what you ask for.”
He strips my jeans and underwear in one rough motion. Tosses them somewhere behind him. And then I’m naked beneath him and he’s staring at me like he wants to devour me whole.
“Spread your legs.”
I do. The cool air hits my slick folds and I shiver, exposed, vulnerable. His eyes drop between my thighs and he makes a sound—low and guttural, almost pained.
He runs one finger through my folds, barely touching, and I whimper.
“All for me?” His voice is barely human.
“Yes. God, yes.”
He circles my clit, too light, teasing.
“Nate, please...”
“Please what?” He’s watching my face, cataloging every reaction. His finger dips lower, gathering slick, then drags it back up to circle my clit again. Still too light. Still teasing.
“Touch me. Please. I need...”
He presses down on my clit, just for a second, and I buck off the bed.
“Words, Cara.”
“Your fingers. Inside me. Please.”
He pushes two fingers into me without warning.
I scream, my hips bucking off the bed. He’s not gentle about it. He fucks me with his fingers, hard and fast, curling them to find that spot that makes my vision blur. His thumb finds my clit, presses down, rubs in tight circles.
“Yes, fuck, yes...”
He adds a third finger and I clench around him. The stretch makes me gasp.
“Nate... please...”
“Not yet.” He slows his fingers and I whine in frustration.
I’m so close. I can feel it building, that coil of heat in my belly, and he knows it. His strokes turn lazy, teasing.
“Nate.”
“Don’t stop.”
He pulls his fingers almost all the way out, then pushes them back in slowly, so slowly I want to scream.
I whimper, trying to rock my hips against his hand, but he presses down on my stomach to hold me still.
“Nate, please...”
He withdraws his fingers completely and I sob at the loss. Before I can protest, he’s moving down my body, shouldering between my thighs. His breath is hot against my pussy.
“Nate.”
He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, right where the slick is glistening. Then higher. Closer to where I need him.
“Please.”
“Nate. Please. I need your mouth...”
He licks a long, slow stripe through my folds.
My whole body jerks. He holds my hips down, pinning me to the mattress with his forearms, and licks me again. Slower. Savoring. He groans against me—low and hungry.
“Please.”
He sucks my clit into his mouth.
I scream.
My hands fist in his hair, my thighs clamping around his head. He doesn’t let up. He eats me like he’s starving for it, tongue stroking, lips sucking, fucking me with his mouth. The sounds are obscene. Wet and messy and desperate.
“Nate... fuck... please...”
He groans against me and dives back in, tongue plunging inside me. I nearly come off the bed. He fucks me with his tongue, slow and deep, while his nose nudges my clit. Then he pulls out and sucks on my clit, alternating between the two until I don’t know which way is up.
“More... please... I need more...”
He slides two fingers back inside me, pumping them in time with his tongue. I’m clenching around him, riding his face, past shame or embarrassment. I just need—I need—
I’m grinding against his mouth, chasing it, and he takes everything I give him. His fingers curl inside me, hitting that spot over and over while his tongue circles my clit. He adds a third finger, stretching me wider, and the fullness makes me moan.
“Nate.”
“Gonna come.” I’m gasping, pulling his hair hard enough to hurt. “Nate, I’m gonna...”
He stops.
I sob in frustration as he pulls back—chin wet with my slick, eyes dark and satisfied.
“Not yet.”
“You bastard.”
“Yeah.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I am.”
I want to kill him. I want to kiss him. I want to drag him back down and ride his face until I come whether he likes it or not.
“Nate, please, I need...”
He crawls back up my body, caging me in with his arms. His mouth hovers over mine, not quite kissing. I can smell myself on his lips.
“You don’t get to leave me.” His voice is raw. “And then come back expecting this to be easy.”
“I don’t expect...”
“Ten years.” He reaches between us, undoes his jeans, shoves them down. When his cock springs free, hard and thick and already leaking, my mouth goes dry.
God. Ten years and my body still knows exactly what it wants.
He grinds his hips against mine and I feel him sliding through my slick, hot and hard and perfect.
“Nate.”
“Tell me you’re staying.” He notches himself at my entrance. “Tell me this is real.”
“It’s real.” The words come out broken. “I’m staying. I swear I’m staying.”
“Look at me.” He pushes in, just the tip, and we both gasp.
I force my eyes open. Tears are streaming down my temples, and his face is blurred above me, but I hold his gaze.
He pushes deeper, stretching me, filling me inch by inch. His jaw is clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek, like it’s taking everything he has not to just take.
He buries himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
I cry out. He’s so deep, so thick, stretching me so wide. His knot presses against my entrance, not quite inside yet, and I’ve never felt so full. I can feel every inch of him, throbbing inside me.
“Fuck.” His voice breaks. “You feel... god, Cara.”
“Move. Please move.”
He pulls out slowly, so slowly I feel every inch dragging against my walls, then slams back in.
“Never again.” His voice is raw. “You’re never running from me again.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re mine.” Another thrust, harder. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.” He’s fucking me now, hard and relentless, setting a punishing pace. Each thrust drives the air from my lungs.
“I’m yours, Nate. I’m yours.”
He grips my jaw, forces me to look at him. His eyes are dark, possessive, burning into mine.
“You don’t get to leave.” His thrusts are getting rougher, his knot starting to catch on my rim with every stroke. The stretch of it makes me gasp. “Not ever again. You’re staying right here. With me. With us.”
“Yes.”
“Promise me.” He slams into me so hard the headboard cracks against the wall.
“I promise.”
“Swear it.” Another brutal thrust, his knot catching harder, tugging at my entrance.
“I swear.” I’m coming apart beneath him, overwhelmed by sensation and emotion. “I swear, Nate. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours.”
Something shifts in his face. The fierce possessiveness cracks open and underneath it is just want. Love so fierce it takes my breath away.
“Mine,” he growls. “Say it again.”
“Yours. I’m yours. I’ve always been...”
He kisses me. Deep and desperate, swallowing my words, his tongue claiming my mouth the way his cock is claiming my body. His rhythm falters, his thrusts turning ragged, uncoordinated. His knot is swelling bigger now, catching harder with every stroke.
“Please...”
He bites my earlobe. “Touch yourself.”
My hand flies between us. My fingers find my clit and I’m so sensitive, so close from being edged earlier. I rub tight circles, chasing it, and his knot is catching harder now, stretching me wider with every thrust.
His eyes drop to my throat. His whole body shudders.
“Cara.” His voice is wrecked. “I need...”
I know what he needs. I feel it too.
I tilt my head, baring my neck to him.
“Do it.” I’m right on the edge, his knot catching hard, barely able to pull back. “Bond me. Please, Nate. I want it. I want you. I want—”
He strikes.
His teeth sink into the curve of my neck at the same moment his knot locks inside me.
I shatter.
The orgasm tears through me, so intense I can’t breathe, can’t think—and then the bond snaps into place and I feel him. His emotions flooding into me. Relief so sharp it hurts. Disbelief. Joy. Love, god, so much love I can’t breathe.
He comes with a roar against my neck, teeth still buried in my flesh, and I feel that too—the hot pulse of him filling me up, his pleasure crashing into mine through the bond until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
His scent crashes over me—pine and woodsmoke—but it’s different now. Mixed with my honey and citrus. We smell like each other. Permanently.