Chapter 48
forty-eight
ROSE
Dare returns to me hours later. His blond hair is askew, black shirt damp with sweat and likely blood. Those dark brown eyes watch me as his chest heaves, every muscle in his body tense. Hands fisted at his side, jaw clenched. Shoulders drawn together. Legs ready to move at a moment’s notice.
He glances down, probably realizing there are splatters of blood on his arms.
While he was gone, I thought I’d feel more regret. Maybe even sadness. But I was numb as I showered the sweat and grime of the warehouse from my skin.
Now that he’s here, relief is all I know.
I push away from his kitchen island, slowly closing the distance between us, step by step, giving him moments to protest. He looks up at me through his eyelashes, pupils blown wide with adrenaline, and what I see reflected in them doesn’t scare me like it used to.
I see the man who’s been alone .
The boy who lost his parents.
The man who viciously protects those he loves because he’s had no other choice.
And I want nothing more than to be his.
Stopping in front of him, I take a breath to steady my racing heart, but it’s impossible when he’s near. Dare makes me feel. As he studies me, I half expect him to push me away. But he doesn’t. He gently grabs my throat and draws me forward until my back arches and our lips scarcely touch. Relief courses through me, and I slip my tongue along the seam of his mouth.
Fingers flexing on my neck, he claims my lips, tongue lashing against mine until I relent and submit to his control. His answering moan is deep and hungry and needy. The sound zings through my body from head to toe.
I break the kiss, sucking in a heavy breath and searching his face. He doesn’t speak, but there’s a war waging inside of those irises. The fight between beast and man. Dare doesn’t kill because he wants to, he kills because he has to. It’s the only way he’s been able to keep himself and his sisters safe.
But I know that murder, no matter how justified it feels, can haunt. Dare’s been battling that for years all by himself. But he’s not alone anymore. He has me. I don’t look away. I face his demons head-on and slowly lead him to the bedroom.
He watches me with hawk-like precision as I unbuckle his belt, drag it out of his pants, and drop it onto the floor.
“I’m going to help you shower.”
He doesn’t answer. Maybe he can’t. Or he doesn’t know what to say, but I don’t need his words. His actions are enough for me.
I reach for his pants and undo the button, gripping the band of his boxers and jeans together before dragging the material down his strong legs. He steps out of them and I reach for his shirt next. Lifting my eyes to meet his, I peel the damp material off his torso, inch by inch, exposing all that beautiful skin. I toss the shirt onto the pants and step back.
Dare tips his head in question.
Holding my hand out, I wait for him to decide.
He can stay with the demons in his head, or he can join me.
His attention roams over my face. Dare takes a breath and steps toward me. My heart flutters as his rough palm slides against mine. I walk backward and lead him to the en suite, keeping my eyes on the man who’s proven again and again that he’ll show me the truth, that he’ll protect me, that he’ll love me like I’ve never been loved.
Swallowing the lump of emotion, I get the shower ready and then reach for my own shirt, but strong hands push my fingers away and Dare’s lips ghost over my shoulder.
“Let me.” His voice is hoarse and raw.
I lift my arms in answer, and he helps me undress until I’m standing naked, with him at my back. His fingers trace down my body, outlining my curves as goose bumps chase after his touch.
Turning, I wrap my arms around him and hug him. He envelops me. The room fills with steam from the shower, but even as the moisture dampens the air, all I can smell is the vetiver that reminds me this is my home.
He’s still covered in filth, and aside from those two words, he hasn’t said anything. Is he worried I’ll resent him for killing my father? I don’t. As heartless as it seems, I’m happy he’s dead. I already spent days mourning the man I thought I knew when I found out what he’d done to my mother.
The man Dare killed wasn’t my dad.
I guide him into the shower and under the spray of water. Dare stands there, a hard line between his eyebrows, watching me lather up a loofa with his body wash. My heart swells at his confusion. Did he really expect me to hate him?
“I’ve got you now,” I promise.
His features soften, and slowly, as I wash the remnants of the night from his body, as I run my nails across his scalp and through his hair, as I rinse the soap from his body, Dare returns to me.
I reach to turn the water off, but his fingers wrap around my wrist. My gaze flies to meet his and the glisten of tears in his eyes is enough to make my breath catch. “Are you okay?”
“I am now.” He gently grabs my throat and draws me forward until my back arches and our lips scarcely touch. “You’re mine, Rose.”
“Finally,” I murmur, closing the distance and claiming the beast as mine.
Dare kisses me until the water runs cold and we have no choice but to leave the shower. With towels roughly wrapped around our bodies, he scoops me up and carries me into the bedroom, bridal style.
We fall into the bed, a tangle of limbs and hungry kisses. As the towels fall away, he moves down my body, tongue circling over my nipples, down my stomach, swirling over my navel, and descending until he reaches my clit.
Rotating around the bundle of nerves, he teases me until my back arches off the mattress and two words tumble out of me. “Please, Dare.”
Humming against my skin, he finally focuses his attention on my clit, two of his fingers teasing my entrance. My thighs press against his cheeks, and he pauses, lifting his gaze to meet mine. He’s so handsome between my legs, but the wicked arch of his eyebrow spells trouble.
“Spread for me, wife.”
My thighs fall open, and the corner of his mouth quirks right as he thrusts his fingers inside of me. I cry out at the sudden intrusion, but his lips seal around my clit, ensuring I have nothing to complain about as he pumps in and out of me. His fingertips scarcely caress my G-spot.
Teasing.
Coaxing.
Controlling.
“Dare,” I beg.
“I know, baby.” He runs his tongue through my slit, spreading my folds before curling it at the last second, purposefully avoiding the place I want him most.
Lifting my hips, I try to guide him, but I should have known better. He bites my thigh in warning, and I gasp at the zap of pain. Stroking my G-spot, he finally starts to lead me toward my climax, but it’s on his terms. Steady torture.
“Please, please, please.”
“What’s your name?”
Dare does nothing without purpose. He told me not to forget who I am. I’m still not used to saying my new name out loud. The truth is, Rose Miller is dead. That unfeeling, ice princess is gone .
Now, with love and safety swirling inside my chest, I’m exactly who I want to be. “Rosalynn Richardson.”
As soon as the words are hanging in the air, his tongue circles my clit faster and faster, fingers pressing and caressing inside of me. His other hand glides up my stomach and pinches my nipple.
Right there, right there, right there.
Fuck, I’m so close.
Dare must realize it, too, because he keeps going, never straying from his pace. Palm cupping and kneading my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers until all I know is the sensations he’s creating.
The goose bumps racing down my spine.
The tremble in my thighs.
The curl in my toes.
The parting of my lips as I moan.
The electricity that shoots through every nerve as he brings me up the crest until everything crashes together and I plummet through euphoria, body writhing, fingers grasping at his shoulders. Dare devours my cum and doesn’t stop until I melt into the bed.
“We’re not done yet,” he warns.
“I need you inside of me.”
He licks his lips and looks down as he draws his fingers out of me. My cunt is soaking, more than ready for him, and he grins down at his handiwork. I watch him in his moment of glory, loving the way he’s free of his burdens.
Before he can climb on top of me, I clamber to my knees and grab his arms, dragging him up the bed and pushing him back onto the pillows. His eyebrows arch as I straddle him.
“You can’t have all the fun,” I tell him, reaching between our bodies and grasping his girthy length. “Tell me you love me.” I position his tip and slowly ease down.
“I love you, Rose.”
“Good.” I take another inch, rolling my hips and watching as he restrains himself, letting me take control, despite his own needs.
“And who do you belong to?”
He runs his hands down my sides and grips my hips. “You, always you.”
“Good boy,” I purr and settle fully on his lap, sucking in a breath as he stretches and fills me, but that second is all I need before I rock my hips, arching back and bringing them forward, circling them.
“Fuck, Rose,” he rasps, fingers digging into my ass.
Brushing my fingers through his hair, I tug on the strands and press my chest against his, grinding and taking him deeper as my lips hover over his. “You feel so good,” I confess before pressing my mouth to his, slowly exploring him as I ride him on my own terms.
Dare’s palm cracks against my ass, and I gasp, surging forward. He thrusts up, impaling me as he twines his arms around my body and sits up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he stares up at me, watching me ride him until my movements grow unsteady and he has to help me, hand guiding my hips up and down, until my walls clamp around his cock.
“That’s it, Rose. You know what you want.”
I do. It’s him. It’s always been him.
It’s harder to move, to keep the pace I need to come, but Dare already knows that, and he lays me on the mattress, shifting our position without slipping out. His arms cage my head and his weight presses down on me. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I tip my hips, giving him the angle he needs to bury himself deep inside of me.
Our eyes stay locked as he slams into me, thrust after thrust, higher and higher, closer and closer. And then one hand finds its way around my throat and his lips claim mine, fingers squeezing ever so slightly as I surrender.
We find nirvana in each other’s arms.
Together, we find peace.
Together, we find love.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.