Chapter 40 #2
He began to move faster, shallow thrusts, and the deeper he pushed, the more I wanted. The more I needed.
He gripped my hair tighter—not to guide me, not to force me—but to anchor himself.
Drool slicked my chin, my eyes stung, lashes wet, cheeks burning with effort and arousal. I probably looked wrecked.
But gods, I felt powerful.
Like I owned him with nothing but my mouth.
His eyes dropped to where I had him buried in my throat, then back to mine, glassy, undone.
“Fuck, Emma,” he rasped as his fingers tightened in my hair. “Look at you. Taking every single inch of me like a goddess. Take it all baby, it’s all yours anyway.”
I moaned around him, flattening my tongue along the underside of his cock before dragging him back in deep, greedy, filthy.
The sound that left him wasn’t human.
It vibrated through me, through him, a broken growl that felt like it came from somewhere deeper than need. Like worship.
I wanted more.
“Gonna—fuck—gonna come down your throat if you keep—ah, shit—”
His body jerked, every harsh breath torn from him like he was breaking apart.
I sucked harder, faster, until he roared my name like a curse and a prayer combined, spilling hot and violent down my throat.
I swallowed every drop, never looking away from him, watching the way his eyes went dark and wild, the way he looked like I’d ruined him in ways bullets and blades never could.
When I finally pulled back, licking the taste of him from my lips, his stare pinned me in place. Savage. Reverent. Completely undone, before he whispered, voice hoarse and ragged, “Godsdamnit, Nightcrawler… you’ve got no idea what you just made yours.”
For a heartbeat, something warm and terrifying flickered through me.
But the memory of him—bleeding, barely alive because he’d decided my life mattered more—ignited something hot and ugly in my chest. I smothered all the mushy feelings, and straightened, fury replacing the exhaustion in my limbs.
“Get cleaned up,” I said, my tone flat and cold. “We need to talk.”
Before he could answer, I turned and walked out, leaving the sound of the shower and his labored breathing behind me.
I sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on my knees, fingers laced so tightly together they ached. My haze still hummed under my skin, restless, unwilling to settle. I stared at the floor, jaw locked, waiting for the sound of his footsteps.
When the bathroom door finally opened, Caden filled the frame like a shadow, bare-chested, a towel slung around his hips, and droplets of water sliding down his skin.
I said nothing, but tracked his movements across the room, then rose to my feet as he drew closer, my pulse matching his pace.
His arms locked around me immediately, pulled me tight against his chest, and held me as if he hadn’t just flirted with death.
My pulse was still erratic, breath coming too fast, adrenaline humming in every vein.
“Hey,” he murmured against my ear. “You’re fine. You’re safe.”
“I’m safe?” I snapped, jerking my head up so fast our noses nearly touched. “I’m safe?!”
I punched him—hard—right in the shoulder.
He didn’t even flinch. Only raised one infuriating brow, like I’d patted him too roughly during story time.
My knuckles throbbed. Of course they did. His shoulder might as well have been carved from reinforced arrogance. Which only made me angrier.
I shoved away from him, pointing a shaking finger straight at his chest.
“You almost died, you idiotic, arrogant, disaster of a First Offensive!” My rage ricocheted off the walls.
“Where the hell do you come off jumping in front of me like that? Twice! What, did someone recruit you for a lifetime contract as a professional martyr, and you just forgot to tell me? Or is dying right in front of me more like a personal passion project of yours?”
He stayed silent. Still. Watching me with maddening calm, like my fury was something he’d been expecting, like he thought I needed it.
I started pacing, stabbing the air with my finger like I was conducting a full orchestra of rage.
“All that fucking training,” I bit out, as I stomped around the room like a feral rabbit. “All that battlefield ego and experience, and you still choose ‘suicide dive, the sequel’ as your big heroic move?”
Still nothing.
The air between us vibrated with everything I had no words for—terror, fury, the unbearable image of his body hitting the ground. My whole body felt electric, raw, alive with rage that was only holding back the grief underneath.
“I swear, Caden, if you ever—ever—pull shit like that again, I will kill you before anyone else gets the chance!”
And then he had the audacity to smile at me.
I stilled. Completely.
“You think this is funny?” I spoke in soft, lethal words.
“You think you can make me watch you die, and laugh about it?”
Caden took a step toward me, slowly, like I was something wild that might either attack or bolt, still not saying one word.
“You are not invincible, Caden!” I spat, then hit him again with my fists once he was close enough.
“You can’t throw yourself at danger and expect me to be fine with it.
You can’t throw yourself on a fucking knife or catch a flying bullet and bleed to death to save me!
You hear me? I will never be fine with that! ”
The tears came fast, burning their way down my cheeks before I could even breathe.
“I can’t…” My voice cracked open, my lungs stuttering like they’d forgotten how to work. “I can’t survive that. I can’t…” Fuck. “I can’t fucking lose you.”
There it was.
Ugly. Terrifying. True enough to hollow me out.
I hated saying it. Hated how it ripped me apart. Hated how much it meant, how much he meant.
Caden reached for me then and pulled me back into his arms.
I didn’t fight him.
Didn’t shove, didn’t swear, didn’t run.
I just sank.
Collapsed into him like gravity finally won.
He held me—one arm banded tight around my back, one hand sliding into my hair—steadying me, holding me like letting go wasn’t an option he’d ever consider.
“You won’t,” he promised against my temple. “You’ll never have to survive that, because I’m not leaving you. Not by choice. Not by recklessness. Not even the damn gods can drag me away from you.”
Caden pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, and there was something fierce in them, something cold and resolute that almost scared me.
“But if the price for your life is mine… I will pay it. Every single fucking time.”
I shook my head, tears burning again. “That doesn’t work for me, Colt.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing it’s not your choice to make, is it?”
“Fine!” I snapped, fury reigniting in my chest. “You maddeningly stubborn beast of a man! But let me tell you something, if that choice is ever mine, I will choose your life over mine. Now how does that feel?”
Then this gorgeous, maddening man exhaled, slow, rough, like he was trying to hold something back and failing. He leaned in, pressed his forehead to mine, eyes shut like the world was too much, and said, voice low and wrecked,
“Feels fucking incredible.”
His words landed like a blow, knocking the breath right out of me. For a second, neither of us moved, only breathing, barely touching, the air between us charged and trembling.
Then I tilted my head, just enough.
His nose brushed mine.
That was all it took.
Our lips crashed, hot, desperate, bruising. All teeth and want and months of unspoken things erupting at once.
His hand curled around the back of my neck, pulling me into him like he couldn’t stand another second apart.
His grip tightened at my waist, hauling me up against him like he wanted to feel every breath I took. His kiss turned punishing—ruthless, perfect—taking like he had every right to.
His hands slid beneath my thighs, fingers digging in with a rough kind of need, and in one fluid motion, he lifted me, effortlessly, holding me right where he wanted me.
“Wrap your legs around me.” His command was a low growl that scraped down my spine like a whip, and I obeyed without thinking, legs locking around his waist.
His hips flexed, grinding into me with brutal control, and I gasped. His mouth dragged down my jaw, his breath hot and uneven against my skin.
His tongue flicked over the pulse at my throat before his teeth bit down, hard enough to make me cry out.
One hand splayed across my back, fingers digging in as he held me there, completely under him, completely his.
His other hand slid up under my shirt—palm flat, fingers splaying wide—claiming every inch of skin like he owned it. He wasn’t gentle. He didn’t ask. He simply took, dragging his hand up my ribs, thumb brushing the underside of my breast, sending a sudden jolt of heat straight through me.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, hungrier, like he was devouring me one breath at a time. There was nothing controlled about it. His body pressed me hard against the wall, pinning me in place, every part of him hard and hot and aching.
A moan slipped from my lips before I could stop it, breathless, and needy. “Caden…” My fingers were clawing at his back, trying to pull him even closer. “More.”
“Fuck.” His grip on my thighs tightened, possessive and urgent, and then he was moving, carrying me across the room without breaking the kiss.
He laid me down on the bed, his hands careful, like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to worship me or ruin me.
But then he paused—only for a second—hovering over me, eyes locked on mine like he was trying to memorize every detail of my face. His breath was ragged, chest rising and falling like he was barely holding himself together.
One hand brushed a loose strand of hair from my cheek, his fingers trembling slightly.
He leaned in and then kissed me again.
This time soft.
His lips moved over mine like a whisper, like a secret only we would ever know. His hand cradled the side of my face, feather-light, and gods, the tenderness of it nearly undid me.
When he pulled back, there was something in his gaze. Something raw and unguarded. Vulnerability, flickering right beneath the surface. It hit me so suddenly, I almost welled up.
His mouth claimed mine again, fierce and aching, like he needed the taste of me just to breathe. His hand slid from my cheek down to my throat, not to restrain, but to feel the beat of my pulse hammering against his palm.
I arched up into him, pulling him down with me, craving every inch of him. His weight settled over me, solid and warm, and I felt the shudder running through him when our bodies aligned, perfectly, and devastatingly close.
His lips left mine only to find the edge of my jaw, then my neck, each kiss slower, like he was trying to set fire to my skin with nothing but his mouth. My hands threaded through his hair, desperate to keep him close, to keep him real.
Everywhere he touched, I burned.
“You feel like fire,” Caden breathed, his voice rough, reverent. Like he was confessing a truth he hadn’t meant to say out loud.
My fingers tightened in his hair as I pulled him closer, and my own truth slipped out before I could stop it.
“You feel like home.”
Caden froze.
His body went completely still above mine, like I’d reached in and torn something open with those four simple words. Slowly, he lifted his head, eyes locking on mine.
And gods, his face.
The shock in his expression melted into something deeper, something radiant. The kind of happiness that didn’t just show, it lit him from the inside out. Like he'd waited his whole life to hear those words and couldn’t quite believe I’d said them.
His forehead pressed against mine, voice rough with emotion. “Say that again.”
I swallowed, heart pounding. “You feel like home.”
His mouth parted, like he was about to speak, like words were right there on the edge of something important.
I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then rested my hand against his chest, the wild rhythm of his heartbeat grounding us both.
“Before we do this…” I murmured, “I need to talk to James.”
His brow furrowed. “Now?”
I smiled, his impatience oddly sweet. “Yeah. Not that this is really any of his business anymore, but… I feel like he has a right to know, and I’d rather be done with it before...” the words trailed off.
He held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded once, the understanding there without either of us needing to say more.
I cleared my throat. “I also need to talk to Sean. He was incredible out there today. I… I owe it to both to clear the air as soon as possible.”
Caden studied me for a moment, then nodded again, his expression softening. He leaned in and kissed me like a promise.
“We have all the time in the world,” he murmured. “Go handle it. Then come find me.”
“I will,” I promised.
I slid off the bed, my fingers brushing his, then reached for the Nexus.