25. Boone
Boone
I check in with Jonah and Finn over the radio every hour on the hour. It doesn’t matter if there’s nothing new to report. We keep the rhythm and it takes the edge off.
They’re both working to fix this. Jonah is reaching out to old contacts, flipping stones we haven't touched in years. Finn is taking care of Mae and brainstorming other ideas. Between the two of them, we’ll get somewhere.
But not fast enough.
Ani hasn’t moved in the last ten minutes. She’s perched on the edge of the bed with her hands in her lap and her shoulders pulled tight. She hasn’t spoken since we arrived. She hasn’t eaten much either.
She hasn’t cried since we came up with this plan. She packed her bag, said goodbye, and settled here without a single tear. I don’t really know how to handle tears, but this silence she’s sunk into now—that’s worse.
It’s like something in her switched off.
I don’t blame her. Every time she tries to move forward, another hit knocks her down. And they just keep coming. She’s strong, but there’s only so much one person can take before they start to fray at the edges.
I pull up the camera feeds again. One outside. One in the hallway. One fixed on the empty lot across the street. Nothing. We’re locked down tight. But that doesn’t stop me from checking it again anyway.
I glance back at her. She still hasn’t moved.
I’m too scared that the next blow will be the one that truly breaks her. I approach her carefully, and I crouch in front of her, close enough for her to hear me. My hands rest on her knees.
“You’ve gotta get out of your head, sweetheart,” I say. “Think about something else. Anything else.”
Her eyes lift to mine, and she opens her mouth. And what comes out next changes everything.
“Use me.”
My whole body goes still.
“What?”
“I don’t want to think,” she says. “I just want you to use me.”
She needs me to distract her. And, fuck , do I want to give it to her. But there’s one problem.
“There aren’t any condoms here.”
She meets my eyes again, not flinching this time.
“I don’t care.”
That does it. Whatever restraint I thought I had left starts to slip.
She’s asking for me to take control. To show her she’s mine.
And she’s about to get what she wants.
I rise to my feet slowly. Her eyes watch me. She’s giving me everything in that look—her grief, her panic, her absolute fucking surrender.
“Stand up,” I say.
She does.
“Strip.”
She reaches for the hem of her shirt without hesitating.
She lifts the fabric, revealing the curve of her waist, the soft slope of her breasts.
When the shirt hits the floor, her hands move to the waistband of her leggings.
She peels them down along with her panties, inch by inch.
Then she steps out of both. The way she looks at me… it fucking does me in.
My cock is already straining against my pants. I palm it through my jeans but keep my eyes on her. She waits for my next command.
“Lie down.”
She moves to the bed without a word. I strip fast—shirt, jeans, everything off in seconds. Then I’m climbing over her, bracing myself above her with one hand pressed into the mattress beside her head.
“You don’t get to disappear,” I say. “You stay here with me. You feel every inch of this. You understand?”
She nods without hesitation.
I grip her face–not rough, but firm enough to get her attention.
“Say it.”
“I understand.”
“Good girl.”
I don’t waste another second. I grab both her wrists and pin them above her head. Her back arches, breasts rising with every shaky breath, and when I lean down to suck one into my mouth, she gasps.
“Keep your hands there,” I say.
I release her wrists, testing her. She doesn’t move them. I kiss a line down her stomach, then slide my hands under her thighs and push them wide. She’s already wet—slick, swollen, fucking perfect.
I drag my cock through her folds, coating myself in her arousal. I press the tip just inside and pause.
“No condom,” I murmur.
“I don’t care,” she breathes. “I want to feel all of you.”
She has no idea what those words do to me. I push deep into her in one brutal stroke.
She cries out, body bowing, legs locking around my waist. I bury myself to the hilt, then hold, letting her feel it—every thick, aching inch. She clenches around me, moaning as her hands remain above her head.
“You like that?” I ask.
“Yes,” she gasps. “God, yes.”
I pull out slowly, then slam back in. She jerks beneath me, her mouth falling open. I don’t ease up. I fuck her with purpose—deep and rough, but controlled. Her body takes it, every thrust pulling a moan from her lips.
“That’s it,” I whisper. “Good girl. You need to be fucked, don’t you?”
“Yes—please?—”
“You want to be used?”
“Please, Daddy—harder?—”
My composure breaks.
I flip her onto her stomach, and pull her hips up. She whimpers but rises to her elbows, ass in the air, thighs spread wide. I grip her waist and sink back into her from behind. The angle’s deeper now. She moans into the sheets.
“You were made for me,” I growl. “Made to take all of me.”
She gasps, the sound high and bordering on desperate as she pushes back against me. Her hands claw at the bed and her thighs shake.
“Say it,” I demand. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours—Daddy, please—don’t stop?—”
I lean over her, chest to her back, one hand braced by her head, the other reaching around to rub her clit just how she likes it.
She shatters.
The moment she comes, her whole body locks up. She moans into the mattress, pussy clenching around my cock as she convulses in my arms. I don’t stop though. I don’t even slow down.
“You want me to fill you up?” I whisper, voice raw. “You want me to come inside you?”
“Yes—yes—please, Daddy—don’t stop?—”
That’s it. That’s what does me in.
I thrust one more time and then grind deep and spill inside her with a groan that tears from my chest. My orgasm hits so hard I can barely breathe. My hand fists in the sheets as I pump her full, wave after wave, hips jerking until I’m empty.
When I pull out, I watch my cum drip from her.
I press a kiss to her shoulder, then another to her temple as I pull her to me. I wrap one arm around her waist and pull her tighter, burying my face in her hair. Her breath is shallow.
I don’t speak. She doesn’t need small talk right now. She needs to feel me there while the world spins around her.
So I stay.
I breathe in the scent of her skin and let the silence settle between us. Her hand is still on my arm, fingers flexing occasionally like she’s making sure I haven’t gone anywhere.
I haven’t.
I won’t.
Not now. Not ever.
“You with me?” I finally murmur against her hair.
She nods.
I shift back slightly and ease her onto her side, guiding her to face me. Her eyes are heavy and her lips are swollen. “You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her. “I’ve got you.”
Her throat works as if she might speak, but she just presses closer, tucking her face into my chest. Her body molds to mine like it belongs there. I run my hand down her back, holding her steady.
Minutes pass. Maybe more. I don’t care. She needs this. Hell, I need this.
When I finally speak again, my voice is low.
“You belong to me,” I whisper. “To us.”
She doesn’t move.
I kiss the top of her head and say it again, softer this time.
“I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”
I don’t tell her I love her. I think it’s too soon, but I feel it all the same.
I don’t just want her. I need her.
And I’ll burn the fucking world down before I let anyone take her from us.