Chapter 10 #2
This single word a rumble of desire that I feel all the way down to my pussy. I've reduced him to this—to broken words and gasping breath.
I suck him in, taking him deeper, and his hand tightens in my hair. Not painful, just urgent.
"That's it," he says, his voice strained as he rocks forward into my throat. "Just like that."
The praise is erotic. Addictive. I want more. I redouble my efforts, using everything I've learned about what he likes. The water continues to cascade over us both, steam filling the small bathroom, making everything feel dreamlike and unreal.
Except this is real. This man, this moment—this is my choice.
This is what I want the backside of twenty-three to look like.
I pull back slightly, looking up at him through my lashes. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide with desire. I hold his gaze as I run my tongue along the underside of his cock, slow and deliberate.
A muscle jumps in his jaw.
"You're going to kill me," he says, and there's something almost like wonder in his voice.
I smile around him, then take him deep again. His breath hitches, and I feel a surge of power. This is what June was talking about, I think. This willingness to give everything. To take everything. To be exactly who we are with each other, no pretense, no performance.
His hand guides me now, setting a rhythm that's just on the edge of too much. I follow it willingly, eagerly. My jaw aches, my knees hurt against the hard tile, but none of that matters compared to the sounds he's making, the way his body responds to mine.
"Savannah," he warns, his voice tight. "I'm gonna blow down your throat if you don't—."
He doesn't finish because I don't stop. Don't want to. I want all of him, every part he's willing to give.
His hand tightens in my hair as he comes with a groan that echoes off the tile walls. I take everything, swallowing around him, my eyes never leaving his face.
When he's spent, he pulls me to my feet, kissing me deeply despite where my mouth has just been. It's filthy and intimate and perfect.
"Your turn," he murmurs against my lips, and before I can respond, he's lifting me again, pressing me against the wall.
His fingers find me immediately, and I'm still so close from before that it takes almost nothing—just a few expert strokes and I'm coming apart, my nails digging into his shoulders, his name a broken sound on my lips.
We stay like that for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air as the water begins to run cold. Legion reaches behind me to turn off the shower, and the sudden silence is deafening.
"I could get used to this," I say, not entirely meaning to speak aloud.
His eyes meet mine, serious now. "To what?"
"This," I gesture vaguely between us. "You. Me. Us."
Something flickers across his face—too quick to name. "You say that now," he says, helping me out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my shoulders. "But you haven't seen what this life really is yet."
I want to argue, to tell him I've seen enough. The violence, the loyalty, the way they operate outside the law but still have their own code.
But I know he's right. One day at the compound doesn't make me an expert.
One night with his brothers doesn't make me family.
I wrap the towel around myself, watching him as he dries off. His movements are efficient, practiced. No wasted motion. Everything Legion does has purpose.
"What?" Legion asks, catching me staring.
"I love you. That’s all.”
He freezes, towel in hand, water droplets still clinging to his skin. He doesn't say it back. Doesn't need to. I can see it in the way his eyes change, the way his body stills completely.
"I know you think I don't understand what I'm getting into," I continue, words tumbling out now. "That I'm just playing dress-up in your world. The little Ashby princess trying on outlaw life like it's another Instagram filter."
I step closer to him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin.
"But I'm not naive, Legion. I grew up in a war zone too—just one with better furniture." I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "You think your demons are so special? So unique? At least yours are honest about what they are."
My hand finds his chest, palm flat against the brand that marks him as Badlands. As brotherhood. As belonging.
"I know I'll fail you," I whisper, and his eyes narrow slightly. "Not because I want to. Not because I'm looking for an exit strategy. But because I'm human, and damaged, and sometimes I'll make choices that hurt us both."
I take a deep breath, steadying myself.
"I might fail you once. I might fail you a dozen times. But when I do—when you're at that breaking point, when you're ready to give up on me—I need you to remember this moment."
My fingers trace the outline of his brand, careful not to press too hard on the healing skin.
"Remember me, standing here, telling you that I am yours. That this—" I lift my wrist, showing him my tattoo, "—isn't just ink. It's a promise."
Legion's hand covers mine, pressing it more firmly against his chest so I can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady.
"I will fight for us," I continue, my voice gaining strength.
"I will fight my family, your club, the whole fucking world if I have to.
Because I want to make it to the backside of twenty-three with you, Legion.
I want to see what we look like when we're old and gray and still choosing each other every single day. "
I rise up on my toes, bringing my face closer to his.
"And if that means burning down everything I was supposed to be, then hand me the matches. Because I've spent my whole life being what other people needed me to be. The perfect daughter. The social media darling. The political trophy."
My hands frame his face now, holding him like something precious.
"But with you, I'm just Savannah. And that's enough."
Legion's eyes are so intense they almost burn, searching my face like he's looking for the lie, the angle, the hidden agenda.
He won't find one.
"I know what power looks like, Legion. I was raised in it. Groomed for it. I know how to smile for cameras while plotting behind my eyes. I know how to say the right things to the right people to get exactly what I want."
My thumb traces his bottom lip, feeling the slight roughness there.
"But I've never wanted anything the way I want you. Never needed anything the way I need us."
I let my hands fall to my sides, suddenly vulnerable in a way that has nothing to do with my nakedness.
"So yes, I'm choosing this life. I'm choosing you. With my eyes wide open. Knowing it will be hard, and messy, and sometimes dangerous. This isn't a game to me. It's not a rebellion, or a phase, or something to post about. It's my life now. Our life."
I take a deep breath, steadying myself for what I need to say next.
"And I need you to believe that. Not because I say it, but because you feel it. Here." I place my hand over his heart again. "Where it matters."