Chapter - Sloane
Sloane
I’m waiting at the door when Carter returns, heart still hammering even though the danger is over. The porch light spills over him as he steps up, and my eyes rake over every inch. His hands, his arms, the broad chest rising and falling steadily. No blood. No wounds. He’s safe.
“It’s handled,” he says, voice low and calm, like he just took out the trash instead of three dangerous men.
My shoulders sag with relief so sharp it almost hurts. I step forward without thinking, pressing both palms flat against his chest, feeling the strong, steady thump of his heart beneath my fingers.
My hands don’t listen when I tell them to stop shaking. Even with him standing in front of me, solid and unhurt, my chest still feels too tight, like I haven’t caught up to the fact that it’s over.
He’s real. He came back. He came back for me.
I manage to ask if he’s hurt. Just in case he sprained an ankle or something. No, he’s fine. Walker’s fine. Everyone is fine.
Tension flees my body as I realize it’s over. The men who would have hurt me, can’t. In less than an hour, Carter handled the threat I couldn’t manage on my own.
His big hand cups the side of my neck, thumb stroking gently under my jaw.
“I’ve lost people I cared about because I wasn’t there when it mattered.
I did three tours overseas and I had three relationships that fell apart while I was gone.
Every single one of them cheated. Said I was emotionally unavailable, that I shut down and left them alone even when I was physically standing right in front of them. ”
My breath catches. I search his face, the hard lines of his jaw, the dark green eyes that haven’t left mine since I showed up at the lumberyard.
“Carter…”
That’s bullshit. I want to say. How could they not fight for you?
I almost ask. Instead, I let him talk. If those relationships hadn’t ended, I wouldn’t have him.
I’d have matched with a different man, and while I’m certain there are plenty of good men in the world, none of them would’ve been my Carter.
I wouldn’t have known what I was missing.
His forehead rests against mine, breath warm on my lips.
“I swore I’d never do that again. Never make a woman wait for scraps of me while I’m off saving the world or burying my head in work.
When I saw you standing there with grease on your cheek and that look in your eyes like you were ready to run forever, I knew.
This time I’m all in. No shutting down. No leaving you to carry everything alone.
You’re not going to wake up one day wondering where my mind is at, Angel.
I see you. Every damn day. I’m not making the same mistake with you. ”
The words sink into me, warm and solid and terrifying in the best way. He’s not just protecting me from the Iron Vultures. He’s protecting us from the version of himself he used to be. My fingers fist in his shirt.
“You’re really doing this with me? Even though you didn’t even know I existed a week ago?” I can’t help but ask.
A low, wrecked sound rumbles from deep in his chest.
“You trusted me when you had every reason not to. That’s all I needed.
” His thumb brushes my lower lip, voice dropping to that gravel-rough tone that never fails to make me wet.
“I’m not emotionally unavailable with you, Sloane.
I’m wide fucking open. And I’m going to prove it every single day, starting right now. ”
The words sink into me, warm and solid. For the first time since I fled Hollow Creek, the constant knot of fear in my chest melts. No more scanning shadows. No more waiting for the next threat. He did what he promised.
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them back.
“I’ve never had anyone do that for me. I’ve always been the one fixing things, staying late at the shop, making the hard calls. No one’s ever just stepped in and taken care of me.”
“Bunch of blind fucking fools,” he mutters. “A woman like you? All messy hair and fierce determination? You’re the kind of woman worth dying for, Sloane.”
A tear slips free. I swipe at it, embarrassed, but he doesn’t let me pull away.
“You’re my fucking Angel,” he adds in a whisper.
“I didn’t come here expecting this,” I admit, voice low. “But you made me want to stay the second you called me Angel.”
His green eyes darken with a fierce and tender hunger.
“I want you to marry me,” he says in a gruff pleading tone. “If you’ll have me. Not because you’re scared or grateful. Because you choose this. Because you choose me.”
“I love you, Carter,” I whisper, the confession trembling out like a truth I can’t hold back any longer.
My voice is raw and a little scared, but it feels right.
“I know it’s fast. I know I showed up running for my life, but I love you.
Not just because you saved me tonight. Because you see me.
Because you make me feel safe enough to stop running.
I love how steady you are when everything else is chaos. I love you.”
For a heartbeat he just stares at me, those dark green eyes blazing with emotion. Then a low, wrecked sound rumbles from deep in his chest.
“Fuck,” he breathes, voice thick with feeling. “I love you too, Sloane. I’ve loved you since the moment you claimed me in front of the crew.”
A shaky, relieved laugh escapes me, half-sob, and then he’s kissing me. Hard, deep, no hesitation left between us. His mouth claims mine, tongue sliding hot and demanding against mine.
I moan into the kiss, fingers threading into his damp hair as I pull him closer. All the fear, relief, and love crash together, turning into pure, desperate heat.
He walks me backward into the cabin, kicking the door shut behind us.
His hands roam greedily over my body. They slide down my waist before they cup my ass and lift me so my legs can wrap around his hips.
The hard, thick ridge of his cock presses against my pussy through our clothes, and a flutter of nerves mixes with the heavy ache building low in my belly.
He’s all hard muscle under his clothes, every ridge and swell pressing into my soft curves. One of his hands slides under my tank top to palm my breast, his thumb flicking the stiff nipple until I gasp.
“Been hard for you since that first moment. I’ve been aching to stretch that tight little pussy. You have any idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about filling you up?”
I moan, arching into his touch.
“Carter. I want it. I want you.”
He growls, before setting me on the edge of the sturdy oak kitchen table, the wood cool against the backs of my thighs. My shorts don’t survive long. He peels them down my legs in one smooth motion and I’m left in just my tank top and panties.
“Fuck, look at you. Sitting on my table with your legs spread like a greedy little slut, already dripping for me. And you love me? Goddamn, this tight pussy is gonna look so fucking good stretched around my cock.”
Heat floods my face. I’m nervous, so very fucking nervous, but the love in his eyes and the filthy way he talks to me makes the hunger burn even hotter than the nerves.
“I’ve never done this before,” I confess, just in case the dirty talk is all show.
“I know, Angel.”
He strips off his shirt, revealing hard muscles and tanned skin, then steps between my spread thighs. His big hands slide slowly up my legs, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
“I’ll take care of you. Gonna go slow at first and stretch you nice and easy. You trust me?”
I nod, biting my lip, heart pounding.
“I trust you. It’s just, you’re really big.”
A dark, satisfied smile curves his mouth.
He hooks his fingers in my panties and tugs them down, leaving me completely bare on the table.
One thick finger drags through my slick folds, circling my clit before pushing inside me.
First one, then two, scissoring gently while his mouth finds mine again.
“Yeah, I’m big. But feel how soaked this greedy little pussy is for me already? It’s gonna swallow every inch. Gonna look so fucking pretty when it’s stretched wide around my cock, creaming all over me while you moan my name.”
I whimper at his dirty words, hips rocking toward his hand. The stretch burns sweetly, but his thumb on my clit and the steady stream of filth mixed with “I love you” whispered between kisses make everything feel safe and overwhelming at once.
When he finally pulls his fingers free, I whine softly at the loss.
He frees himself from his jeans, and my eyes widen at the sight of him.
Thicker than my wrist, longer than the bottom of my palm to the tip of my middle finger, with the mushroom shaped head already glistening, he’s definitely bigger than I thought.
“Easy,” he murmurs, gripping my thighs and pulling me right to the very edge of the table. The blunt head of his cock nudges my entrance, hot and heavy. “Breathe for me. Let me in. I’ve got you, and I love you. Gonna fill this tight virgin pussy so full you’ll feel me for days.”
He pushes in slowly, inch by thick inch. The stretch is intense, a deep burning fullness that makes me gasp and clutch at his shoulders.
“It’s too much.”
“That’s it,” he sighs as he sinks impossibly deeper. “Take it. Look down. Watch how your innocent little pussy stretches open for my cock.”
Another wicked inch.
“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tight, like you never want to let go. Such a good girl, taking every fat inch on your first time. This pussy was made for me.”
He bottoms out, hips flush against mine, buried completely inside me. The fullness is overwhelming, almost too much, but the way he holds still, forehead pressed to mine, while his cock throbs inside me, turns the burn into deep, aching pleasure.
When I nod and wrap my legs tighter around him, he starts to move, slow, deep rolls of his hips that drag against every sensitive spot. The table creaks beneath us with each powerful thrust. His dirty talk pours out low and filthy in my ear. Utterly and devastatingly relentless.
“Fuck, this pussy is so tight and hot. Sucking me in like it’s starving for my cock.”
His pace picks up as my nails bite into the warm tan skin of his shoulders.
“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else. No one else gets to feel how perfect you are. Only me. Gonna fuck you deep and hard until you’re creaming all over my cock and begging for more.”
Pleasure coils tighter and tighter in my belly. I moan louder, nails digging into his back as he thrusts harder, one hand sliding between us to circle my clit with firm, confident strokes.
“Come for me,” he growls, voice rough and commanding. “I want to feel you squeeze my cock and milk me dry. Come all over me while you tell me how much you love me. Let go.”
The orgasm crashes over me suddenly, sharp and blinding.
My walls clench tightly around his thick length as I cry out, “I love you.”
He follows right after, groaning deeply as he spills inside me, hips stuttering with the force of it, murmuring, “I love you, Sloane,” against my neck over and over.
We stay locked together afterward, panting, his strong arms wrapped around me like he’ll never let go. I press my face into the crook of his neck, feeling safe, wanted, loved, and completely his.
“I’m staying,” I whisper against his skin. “You’re my home now.”
His hold tightens.
“Damn right I am, Angel.”