Chapter 32
DIANA
Two Months Later
Two months later, the castle feels like it knows my name.
Not in the way it did before, when I was a secret tucked into a high room, when the walls watched me like I might bolt, but in the way a place recognizes someone who belongs to it now.
I’m sitting at a long worktable near one of the windows in his room, afternoon light slanting in pale gold stripes across scarred wood.
There’s a pile of leather scraps beside me, dark and soft from handling, smelling faintly of oil.
My jacket is laid flat in front of me, sleeves carefully smoothed, the lining folded back to expose the inside panel where the patch will go.
My patch. Or, well, it’s Judge’s patch, but I get to wear it; a skull with two daggers on either side.
My fingers are stained with dye, and there’s a needle threaded with thick black cord between my teeth while I test the placement one more time, tilting my head, squinting. I wanted to put it on myself as Judge’s Iron Lady.
Iron Lady.
I press the needle through leather, always getting a sense of gratification when the needle pops through the resistance. Each stitch feels like a choice I’m making on purpose.
The connection with Judge is now like an unobstructed current underneath my skin. I finish the stitch instead of looking over my shoulder, threading the knot carefully, then set the needle down before finally glancing over when he doesn’t seem to get closer.
Judge is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with that expression he gets when he doesn’t quite know what to do with what he’s feeling.
He’s cleaned up with a fresh shirt, and his buzz cut is as short as it ever goes, but there’s a softness to him that still catches me off guard sometimes.
Like the violence is still there, coiled and ready, but it’s officially put to the side, just for me.
“What are you making?” he asks, voice low.
I turn the jacket slightly so he can see. “Putting on the patch.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” he says, moving to a seat a few feet away from me.
I chew on my lip, trying not to smile as I stare at the needlework. He's been doing this a lot lately. Just sitting in the same room with me, watching me.
When I finish, he motions for the attic door.
Our nest is officially up there; the space has been entirely turned into my own suite. We’re renovating that one lower area so I can do all my hobbies there, and I’ve even mentioned it would make for a good play area for children…
Once upstairs, the room feels like pure and utter safety. I have real plants all over, a new sitting table, and the most perfect bedding.
He stops in the middle of it and turns to face me, motioning with his fingers for me to near him. Even now, I still get a rush of butterflies, my body going weak when he grabs the back of my head, fisting my hair, and presses his warm lips to mine.
It doesn’t take long for us to find a rhythm, our mouths parting to share a clashing of teeth, his tongue swiping in to taste me. The thumb of his free hand traces my jaw as he deepens the kiss, and I grip the front of his shirt, breathing him in, smelling the headiness of his rutting cock.
When he finally pulls back, it's only by an inch, his breath warm against my mouth, his eyes finding mine for just a moment.
Then he grabs my chin with the hand that was caressing me and tilts my head to the side, kissing and licking down my neck as my eyelids flutter. A languid lick swipes over the mark that he left on my flesh that bound us together, a pleasant surge flowing through me.
Undressing each other is as natural as undressing our own bodies, the clothes quickly removed to reveal a very full, veined erection.
He lays me down in the nest and looks at me for a moment, just looks, his pale eyes moving over me like he's taking inventory of something precious.
Then he comes down over me, his weight familiar now, and spreads my thighs for me, his rough hands such a contrast to the smoothness of my inner thighs.
“I will never grow tired of this view,” he says, eyeing my pussy unabashedly.
His lips even snarl slightly, like he’s considering fucking me hard.
When he growls, my body stiffens as a wave of pleasure washes through, a slick forming.
He grabs his dick, swiping up once before slowly sliding it over my clit, and then I watch as my body just allows that massive girth to slide right in, the back of my thighs flush with his hips.
"Look at me," he says roughly.
My gaze flits up, and in my peripheral, I can see his abs working as he rocks back and forth. “Say you love me.”
I grin at him, rolling my eyes slightly from the pleasure. “I’m supposed to just say it on my own,” I tease, loving it when I get to push his buttons.
He thrusts a little harder. “Say it.”
“I love you, Judge.”
His hands roam me, gripping my breasts before his hand goes to my throat.
God, do I love the way I feel so damn vulnerable in this position.
He leans over, kissing me passionately, holding me still as he fucks and makes out with me.
He groans and grunts into my mouth, sometimes going slow, and at other times increasing the tempo.
He buries himself deeper, lips lazily parting from the other.
“You have my heart, Diana,” he says, then kisses me hard again, smothering me in his pheromones and taste.
He releases my throat to rub my clit, backing away to watch as my body buckles for him like there’s no point in having autonomy; my pleasure is practically his to manipulate.
“That’s a good girl. Come right on my cock so I can knot in you.”
My orgasm rises and floods me so swiftly, my hands gripping the bed sheets as I moan out loud.
Once my clit is nothing but a bundle of overstimulated nerves, Judge fucks me hard and deep a few times before thrusting balls deep as he groans loudly, cumming hard and quick inside of me.
His knot swells so perfectly, flooding my body with relaxation.
We readjust so he’s lying on his back, and I’m on top of him as he covers us in a blanket while I’m stuck to him like this, resting my head on his chest to hear his heartbeat.
When it crests, it doesn't crash. It rises, slow and inevitable, and I hold onto him through all of it, fingers pressed into the plane of his back, his name in my throat like something I've been meaning to say for a long time.
After, he doesn't move away.
He pulls me against his chest instead, his arm a warm, certain weight across my back, his thumb tracing those idle shapes against my skin. The attic settles around us, quiet and full of paper swans, the light going golden through the windows I used to hate.
I stare out the large, beautiful windows that feel like home to me now.
“You know, I used to look out those windows and do everything I could to find an escape route,” I say.
“Figure out how far I'd get if I ran," I add, inhaling deep and then releasing a long sigh.
"I don't think about that anymore. I don’t think I ever want to leave… except to go back to the beach. That was nice.”
His arm tightens around me, his other hand petting my hair. “We can go to the East Coast when it warms up, if you’d like.”
“I’d love that,” I say, closing my eyes, the bond humming steadily between us as I rest against Judge, my alpha.