Chapter 54
The fire had settled into a deep, glowing crimson roar, painting the cabin walls in long, warm shadows. Outside, fresh snow fell soft and silent over the lake, but inside the heat wrapped around me thick enough to raise goosebumps through the fine knit of my sweater.
Rage stepped into the room, filling the space with him.
He’d kicked off his boots and shed his combat trousers, wearing only loose dark grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips.
The firelight caught every line of him – broad chest, the jagged silver scars earned standing guard over his family, the bold black ink coiling around his ribs.
But when his dark eyes locked on mine, all I saw was a raw, hungry tenderness that made my knees go weak.
“Danika,” he rumbled, his voice so deep I felt it thrumming right through me.
He crossed the floor slow and sure, his big rough palms warm as they slid beneath the hem of my sweater to rest light against my skin.
I gasped soft, my hands flying up to curl against his chest, fingers tangling in the hard muscle there.
“You are so beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmured fierce and low, his gaze never leaving mine.
Slow, gentle as anything, he gathered the hem of my sweater and lifted it over my head, tossing it aside.
I stood before him in just a soft bralette set, my skin glowing in the firelight.
His breath hitched, and he ran one finger slow down the curve of my neck, making me shiver all over.
He leaned in, the rough scrape of his stubble sending sparks right through me as he kissed the sensitive spot just below my ear.
“Rage…” I breathed out, my fingers tangling tight in his hair. He lifted me easy, carrying me the short distance to the bed, laying me down soft before covering me with his weight – heavy, safe, everything I’d ever needed.
For hours he worshipped every inch of me, slow and sure and all his. His hands knew every curve, his kisses traced every line, until I was clinging to him, breathless and undone by how completely he loved me.
When we finally came together, it was deep and slow and all consuming, two hearts beating wild as one. Afterwards the room fell quiet, filled only with the sound of us breathing tangled together. I lay curled against his side, his arm thrown heavy and warm over me, pulling me tight to his chest.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his fingers brushing through my hair. “I’m never letting you go, Danika. You’re my home. Permanently.”
I smiled soft against his skin, tracing one of the faded scars on his ribs. “I know, Rage. I’m already home.”
The dawn of the day broke soft and still over the lake.
Pale light crept slow across the floor, warming my shoulders before I even opened my eyes.
Rage was still asleep, lying on his stomach, face buried in the pillows.
His hair was messy, the sheet slung low around his hips, every hard line of him softening in the quiet light.
The constant, ready tension he always carried at the club had melted completely away.
Love hit me so fierce it almost hurt. I shifted closer, brushing my fingers gentle over the old bullet wound scar on his shoulder.
He let out a low, sleepy rumble, and before he even opened his eyes, his hand reached back fast, catching my thigh and pulling me right over against him.
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he rumbled, voice thick and rough with sleep.
“Morning,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” he murmured, rolling onto his back and tugging me over him. His dark eyes opened, intense and warm and awake all at once. “I’m always awake when you’re touching me, Danika.”
Hearing him use my real name settled something deep and steady in my chest, like coming home after a lifetime away. I brushed a stray lock of hair back from his forehead.
“We’ve got a few more days here,” I said soft, wondering still at the quiet gift of it. “Just us.”
His hands slid slow down my back, warm and sure, squeezing gently at my hips. “Exactly what I want to hear, sweetheart,” he grinned, that wicked familiar glint sparking in his eyes.
He shifted, rolling me easy beneath him, and kissed me slow and deep until my head was spinning. He spent the rest of the morning loving me soft and thorough, until the sun was high and bright on the glass surface of the lake.
Later I stood at the little kitchen stove, wearing nothing but one of his huge black t-shirts that hung all the way to my knees, stirring eggs to make breakfast. Rage stepped up behind me, wrapping his arms tight around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Smells good, sweetheart,” he rumbled, that deep contentment in his tone making my heart ache in the best way.
“It’ll be ready in a minute,” I laughed soft, leaning back into him, letting myself sink completely into the warmth of us.