24. Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
JUDE GRAVES
The moment I slam back into her, my eyes roll back into my fucking skull.
Her hips are jammed against the edge of the dresser, my hands on her thighs holding her wide open for me, and I’m driving into her so hard the old wood groans beneath her weight.
Every thrust jolts her body. I can’t get deep enough. I can’t get fucking close enough.
Her hand reaches up, fingers tangling in my hair. She pulls my head down, bringing my mouth to hers. “Jude…”
My name on her lips, that breathy, broken sound…
it triggers something feral inside me. My thrusts become rougher, a small yelp escaping her.
I’m not just fucking her. I’m conditioning myself.
They wired my brain to see her face and feel agony.
So I’m rewiring it. I’m staring into her eyes as raw, animal, overwhelming pleasure courses through me.
My hand slides up from her thigh, over her stomach, and tightens on her throat. “He never took you from me,” I growl.
Alexei tried.
He fucking failed.
Her hands fly up, both grabbing onto my wrist, and for a heart-stopping moment, I see a flash of memory—her terrified eyes when I choked her before, when the programming had its claws in me so deep I couldn’t fight it.
Never again. My lips crash down on hers, my hands moving to splay on the dresser on either side of her head.
I can’t allow her to be scared of me ever fucking again.
I pull out slowly, then push back in with a deep, rolling thrust that makes her choke on a gasp.
I’m taking it all back. Every memory he corrupted. Every touch he poisoned.
I will fucking kill him for this.
Emma whimpers against my mouth, and it sends me into fucking overdrive. Control snaps. I’m pure instinct, pure need. I pull back just enough to look at her face, and my body locks.
A jolt. Like electricity. A sharp, sickening pain behind my eyes.
No.
I shake my head once. My hips stutter. I focus on the physical, the undeniable: the tight, hot, perfect feel of her wrapped around me. The way her inner muscles grip as I push deeper.
Break out of it.
Remember her, remember her, remember her…
“Jude,” she moans, her head falling back in pure ecstasy.
And that sound, that plea, it snaps me back into my body.
My eyes lock on hers again, and then she surprises me.
Her hands come up, cradling my face, her thumbs stroking my cheekbones through every slam of my hips against her body.
Her touch is so gentle it hurts. “I love you.”
The words…they obliterate the last remnants of his walls, and I fuck into her harder, deeper. She comes apart around my cock again, her climax rippling through her beautiful body, her eyes squeezing shut as a sob of pleasure escapes her. I stare at her face.
Just let me love this woman. Just let me look at her without the pain.
I lean forward, bracing my weight on my hands, our foreheads touching. My thrusts pick up speed, and my own release crashes over me, blurring my vision for half a second. I groan, pulling back to look at her face as I empty myself into her again.
Mine. She’s fucking mine, and she always has been.
I can never get enough of her. It will never be enough.
I kiss her again, slowly, as I drag my cock out and slam back in once, twice, three more times, ensuring she takes everything. “I love you, too,” I pant against her lips. “I’ll love you forever.”
My arms tremble with the effort of holding myself up.
Her legs are wrapped around my waist, holding me inside.
Her fingers trace the tattoos on my forearms. I can tell she doesn’t want me to leave her.
And, fuck, I don’t either. I feel more myself in this moment than I have since I arrived in Moscow.
But slowly, I pull out. I just want to be inside her over and over again.
I help her sit up on the edge of the dresser.
I can’t stop touching her. My hands smooth over her thighs, her hips, and come to rest on her waist. I lean in, pressing my forehead to her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her skin and us.
“Did it work?” she whispers, her voice husky.
I lift my head. My hands frame her face. I look into her eyes, bracing for the shock, the pain…and feel nothing but a devastating, overwhelming rush of…
My eyes burn.
It’s a love so fierce it threatens to crack my heart open completely. I’ve never loved anyone like I love her.
I stare. And stare. And feel…everything. The ghost of the pain is gone, burned away by the inferno we just made. In its place is just her. Only her.
“It’s gone,” I breathe, the realization shuddering through me. My thumbs stroke her cheeks. “When I look at you…it’s just you.”
A tear slips down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb.
***
I don’t expect it when Emma invites me out of the bedroom.
For a second, I just stare at her, like I’m not sure I heard her right.
But I feel…steady. I wouldn’t say perfect or untouchable.
Because there’s something inside me that I don’t fully trust yet, but it isn’t consuming me the way it was before. That alone is enough to make me nod.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Okay.”
When we step out into the hall, Rafe is already there, his attention fixed on the monitor. The screen’s glow cuts across his face.
Emma exhales the second she sees him. “Did Micah and Heather leave?”
His icy gaze lifts to us, calm and unreadable as ever. “Yes.”
There’s a beat where she hesitates, like she’s debating whether to ask the next question, and then she does anyway. “Did…did you watch that?”
His mouth curves. “Yes.”
Emma groans, slapping a hand to her forehead. “Oh, my god.”
“It’s more than alright,” he says smoothly, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. His eyes settle on me now. “Impressive, Jude.”
I nod once, unsure of what the hell to say to that. So I just settle for, “Thank you.”
Emma, clearly done with the conversation, turns and starts toward the stairs like she desperately needs air that isn’t shared with him for another second.
Rafe gestures after her. “You should follow.”
I linger for half a breath longer, meeting his gaze again. There’s something about him that I feel like should unnerve me, considering he is a dominating presence. But I find myself respecting it rather than shying from it. Perhaps it's the monster inside me recognizing the monster inside of him.
I turn and follow her, and the first thing that hits me is the light.
It spills down from the top of the stairs, and I stop after a few steps.
My hand lifts, pressing flat against the wall beside me, because my brain is already trying to whisper that this isn’t real.
That I’m going to blink and be dragged back into Alexei’s basement, back into that chair, back into—
I exhale slowly, cutting it off before it can take root. Voices drift down from above.
Micah. Heather. Adriana. My chest tightens at the sound of them. It’s like I’ve just woken from a deep, dark slumber.
“It’s okay,” Emma murmurs softly. Her hand brushes mine, just enough contact to anchor me without overwhelming me, and I let that be the thing that moves me forward.
One step. Then another.
Rafe follows quietly behind us.
When I reach the top, the space opens into the living room, and for a moment, everything just…pauses. Heads turn, and conversations die mid-sentence as they all look at me.
It’s almost too much.
There are two people I don’t recognize near the table. One has short, messy black hair and dark eyes, with tattoos lining his arms. He looks wild. The other stands a little straighter, shoulder-length dark hair tied back, his brown eyes steady and quieter.
“This is Nico and Kieran,” Emma says, and they each offer a little wave.
And then a woman steps forward. She’s striking, confident, with blue eyes and black hair. She smiles at me. “Wow,” she says, like she’s genuinely taking me in. “I’m not going to lie, I’m a big fan.”
It catches me off guard enough that something almost like a laugh bursts out. “Thank you.”
Rafe steps up beside her. “Jude, this is my beautiful and fierce wife. Adela Sinclair-Vaughan.”
I nod once. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she says easily.
Before I can say anything else, Heather crosses the room in a blur and throws her arms around me.
My body tenses for a split second on instinct, but I catch her. I let out a quiet, surprised chuckle, my arms wrapping around her without hesitation. “Hey,” I murmur.
“Finally,” she says. “I saw you guys doing it.”
I laugh, then. I can’t help it. “That’s fantastic.”
She pulls back, eyes bright, and I barely have time to process it before Micah is there, too.
He doesn’t say anything at first. He just pulls me into him, arms tight and familiar in a way that strikes deeper than anything else. “Fuck, man…” he exhales.
My heart squeezes at the history wrapped up in that one breath, and I hold onto him just as hard. “Hey, Micah,” I say quietly. “I’m okay.”
He nods against me, and when he pulls back, his eyes are wet. I know mine probably are too. And then I look past him, and I see her.
Adriana hasn’t moved. She stands near the couch, completely still, like she’s too nervous to intervene. But all of her attention is locked on me.
My chest tightens, but it’s different now. It’s heavy and complicated. I hesitate for a second, but then I step toward her. She doesn’t move at all. She just watches me, her eyes searching my face like she’s trying to find something she thought was gone for good.
When I stop in front of her, we don’t speak. We just look at each other. And for the first time, I don’t see her through that fractured lens. Not through the pain, the control, or everything that was forced into both of us.
I see her.
Tired, human, and carrying almost as much trauma as I am.