Chapter Fifteen Eason Storm
Her whole body tensed like she just realized she’d walked straight into a trap.
“Eason…” Her voice dropped, warning and desperate all at once. “What the hell did you do?”
I stepped closer, crowding her space again, loving the way her stubborn little chin tilted up at me even though she was drowning in panic. Good. Let her drown in it. Let her feel what real possession looked like.
“I handled it,” I said simply, my voice rough silk.
Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “What does that even mean?”
I shrugged, slow and lazy. “I bought it.”
Confusion flashed across her face, followed by dawning horror.
“The duplex?” she whispered, voice hoarse.
“Yup.” I smiled, teeth flashing like a warning. “Paid cash. In my name. You don’t live there no more unless you live there with me.”
She stumbled back a step like the words hit her harder than any physical shove could’ve.
“You’re crazy,” she breathed.
I grinned wider. “You knew that when you let me slide between those pretty thighs, Muffin.”
Her chest rose and fell, panic in every sharp little breath.
“Eason—”
I cut her off with a sharp shake of my head.
“You been fighting me since day one.” I rasped, stepping in again, her back hitting the wall with a soft thud. I braced my hands on either side of her head, caging her in.
“But it’s over now. You’re done running. You’re done choosing fear over us.”
She swallowed hard, her hands pressing against my chest—but there was no strength behind the push. No real fight left.
I dipped my head, my voice nothing but a growl against her mouth.
“You’re home, Muffin. With me. With Ginger and Nas. With our baby.”
I kissed her then, slow and punishing, stealing the breath from her lungs just like I stole every other part of her.
And when she moaned into my mouth, when her body sagged into mine in surrender, I knew she finally fucking knew too.
She was mine. Always had been. Always fucking would be.
She stiffened in my arms, then broke the kiss, shoving me hard in the chest. “You can’t force me to stay here, Eason! You don’t control me!”
I barely moved, my smirk widening. “You sure about that?”
Her nostrils flared. “I can take care of myself.”
“You keep saying that like it’s supposed to impress me,” I murmured, my voice low and cold. “Like I want a woman who needs me for survival.”
I brushed my knuckles down the side of her face, gentle, but there was no mistaking the power behind it.
“I don’t need you weak, Muffin. I need you loyal.”
Her eyes burned, furious and wet all at once. She wanted to swing on me so bad I could feel it vibrating off her skin.
Perfect. I wanted her feral. I wanted her wild. But I wasn’t budging.
“You can take care of yourself?” I echoed, my smile dark. “Bet. Do that shit. Handle your business. Be the savage I know you are.”
I pressed my palm flat over her stomach, feeling the small swell already starting.
“But not alone. Not no more.”
Her eyes burned, her chest heaving like she wanted to scream, cry, and fight. Then, all at once, she snapped.
“You don’t get it, Eason!” she exploded, shoving at me again. “I lost one baby, I can’t lose another!”
The second those words left her mouth, she froze and so did I. Because her saying it out loud made it real.
Her lips parted like she wanted to take it back, but it was too late. Her body went limp in my hold, her breaths shaky and uneven. I stared at the devastation in her eyes, at the pain she tried to keep buried deep.
She looked away, her gaze fixed on the floor.
“I already lost one child, Eason. Do you know what that does to a mother? To carry life inside of you, to plan for their future, to love them before they even take their first breath, only for them to be ripped away from you a few months after being born?” Her voice cracked, but she kept going.
“It fucks with you. It makes you scared to ever feel that again. And now, I’m pregnant. And I’m terrified.”
Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating.
“You ain’t losing this one, Muffin.” His voice was hoarse, rough around the edges. “Not while I’m breathing.”
She swallowed hard. “You can’t promise me that.”
“The fuck I can’t.”
I tightened my arms around her, caging her to me like the precious, broken thing she was — something I would guard with my life.
“I will promise you that, Muffin.” I rasped against her temple, my voice cutting through the heavy air like a blade. “You’re mine. That baby’s mine. And there ain’t a force on this earth or in hell that’s gon’ take either of you from me.”
She shuddered, her fists still curled against my chest like she didn’t know whether to cling to me or punch me again.
I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. Forcing her to see that I wasn’t just talking to make her feel better. This was my fucking truth.
“You carried that little girl alone,” I said, voice low and savage. “You buried her alone. You fought every demon alone. And you did it like a fucking soldier.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away. She just stared at me, broken and stubborn, still trying to hold the pieces of herself together.
“But you ain’t alone anymore, Muffin,” I murmured, brushing the tear away with my thumb. “Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever again.”
I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead — slow, deep, reverent — like I was sealing a vow between us.
“You don’t gotta carry this shit by yourself no more,” I whispered against her skin.
“I’ll carry it for you. I’ll carry you if I got to.”
She broke then. Not loudly. Not with sobs or screaming. She just crumbled, quietly and completely. And I held her through every fucking second of it.
Her body shook in my arms, and all I did was anchor her tighter, rubbing slow circles on her back, letting her cry out all the pain she had buried for too long. Letting her belong to me the way she was always meant to.
She sucked in a shaky breath, the fight still raging in her eyes, but her body had already surrendered.
“You mine now,” I said quietly, deadly, and final.
“You. Your soul. Your demons. Your dreams. Your goddamn nightmares. I want it all. And you ain’t gotta ask me for shit.”
My hand slid up to cup her jaw, tilting her face up to meet mine.
“I am the air you breathe now, Muffin. So, get comfortable. ‘Cause this?”
I pressed my forehead to hers, our breaths tangling.
“This is forever.”
She shivered — a full-body quake she couldn’t hide if she tried.
And when she opened her mouth to argue, to spit something sharp and stubborn, I cut her off the only way I knew how. I kissed her.
Deeply, hard, and possessive enough to leave bruises on her soul. And this time, when she clutched my shirt in her fists, it wasn’t to push me away. It was to pull me closer.
Her body arched into me, her breath coming in quick, shallow pants as my lips trailed down her jaw, her neck, my teeth grazing her pulse point.
“Eason,” she breathed, her voice shaking.
I smirked against her skin. “Say it, Muffin.”
Her thighs squeezed around my waist, her nails biting into my arms as I ripped her dress from her body, tossing it to the side.
Her lips trembled.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
I chuckled, gripping her jaw, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Yeah?” I leaned down, my lips brushing against hers. “Then why you so wet for me, huh?”
She shuddered.
I ran my fingers between her thighs, groaning when I felt exactly how much she was lying to herself.
“That’s what I thought.”
I didn’t give her time to respond before I slid inside her, stretching her, filling her, making sure she felt me in every way possible. She cried out, her head falling back, her fingers clawing at my back as I moved, slow and deep, making sure she had no fucking doubt who owned her.
She was tight, warm, perfect like her body had been molded just for me. I hissed through my teeth, biting down on the inside of my cheek to keep from busting too fast.
“You feel that, Muffin?” I rasped, my voice low and wrecked. “Ain’t nobody else gon’ ever touch you like this. Ain’t nobody else gon’ ever be inside you again.”
She whimpered, her nails dragging down my back, desperate and wild. Her body was already giving in, clenching around me, betraying every fucking lie she tried to tell herself.
I slowed my hips, making her feel every inch. Every claim. Every fucking promise.
“You belong to me,” I growled against her throat, my teeth grazing her skin. “Your body. Your soul. That fucking heartbeat. All of it. Mine.”
A sob ripped from her chest — half anger, half surrender — and I swallowed it with my mouth, kissing her rough and dirty, claiming her mouth the same way I was claiming everything else.
She bucked against me, desperate, needy, and lost.
I grabbed her thigh, hitching it higher around my waist, and pounded into her harder, making the headboard slam against the wall. Making the bed creak under the force of what we were.
Not gentle. Not careful. Fated.
“Say it!” I demanded, my forehead pressed against hers, my voice breaking apart.
“Say you’re mine.”
She shook her head once, stubborn even now but her body told the truth.
I slammed deeper, hitting that spot that made her whole body seize, her walls choking me like she couldn’t bear to let go.
“Say it, Xalori.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, tears leaking from the corners, her mouth falling open on a choked gasp.
“I’m yours!” she cried, her voice raw, broken, real.
I crushed my mouth to hers again, tasting her surrender, her fear, her love all at once.
And when she shattered around me, her whole body locking up tight, dragging me over the edge with her, I let go too — cumming deep inside her, branding her in a way no motherfucker could ever erase.
When it was over, I didn’t move. I stayed buried inside her, my forehead pressed to hers, breathing her in like she was the only thing keeping me alive.
Because she was.
The sex was desperate, raw, and filled with every emotion neither of us wanted to say out loud. I kissed her hard, swallowing her moans, dragging my hands over every inch of her body like I was mapping out my fucking territory.
As her body relaxed, her breathing slowed, I held her tighter, refusing to let her go.
I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear.
“You keep tryna run, Muffin,” I murmured, my smirk deepening. “But where the fuck you really gon’ go?”
I didn’t move, didn’t ease up my grip. My chest rose and fell against hers, our heartbeats pounding in sync like war drums. My hand stayed planted on her stomach, and her trembling fingers rested over mine like she didn’t know how to let go either.
“You done?” I asked low, my voice brushing the shell of her ear.
She didn’t answer. She just sucked in a shaky breath; her eyes fixated on the ceiling like she was trying not to break all over again. Her lips parted slightly, her body stiff beneath me.
“You scared? Cool. I get it,” I continued, my tone even. “You been through hell and you don’t trust easy. But that fear don’t excuse you running from me. Not anymore. Not while you carrying another piece of my legacy. Not while you raising my son.”
“I wasn’t trying to run,” she whispered.
“Don’t lie to me.” My voice cut like a blade — soft, sharp, dangerous.
“You was already halfway out my fucking life before your body gave out. You would’ve kept running until I was nothing but a memory. You know it.”
Her breath hitched. Her fingers twitched against mine.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” I dared her.
She didn’t. Didn’t even try. Her silence said everything her mouth was too stubborn to admit.
I pressed my lips against her bare shoulder, then her neck, letting them linger, branding her without saying a word.
“I’ll kill for you, Muffin,” I whispered against her skin, my voice thick. “I’ll kill for our kids. I’ll burn this whole fucking world down if you try to take them, or yourself, away from me.”
Her breathing hitched.
“You don’t mean that.”
I smirked against her throat. “You wanna bet?”
She flinched slightly, and yeah, some part of me felt guilty. But not enough to pull back. Not enough to stop. Because this was bigger than me, bigger than her. This was survival. This was family.
My hand slid up her stomach to her chest, feeling her heartbeat against my palm.
“Everything attached to you, everything about you, is mine now,” I husked.
“And I’m gonna protect it with the same fury I’ve protected myself my whole fucking life.”
Her eyes glossed over, but the fire didn’t leave them.
“Even from me?” she asked, voice barely a whisper.
My jaw flexed.
“Especially from you.”
Her lips trembled. That stubborn fire still burned behind the cracks in her armor. She hated how some fucked up part of her understood me and needed me. She wanted this ugly, savage, feral version of love — because it was the first kind that ever promised to fight for her without conditions.
I dragged the back of my hand down her cheek, slow, and reverent.
“You’re not broken, Xalori,” I murmured. “You’re just guarded. And you don’t gotta be like that no more.”
Tears slipped free down her cheeks even as she fought to keep her chin high.
“You scare me,” she whispered.
I grinned darkly, brushing my lips against hers.
“Good,” I muttered against her trembling mouth.
“Because maybe now you’ll fucking listen.”
She blinked slowly, searching my face — looking for the lie, the trap door, the escape hatch she always kept tucked away. But there wasn’t any. There never would be.
“I don’t know how to trust this,” she whispered, the confession trembling off her lips like it hurt.
I leaned in, pressing my forehead to hers, steady and sure. “Then don’t trust the situation,” I murmured. “Trust me.”
And for a moment, she did. I felt it. That small exhale, soft and fragile, slipping past her defenses like she didn’t even realize she let it happen. Her walls dropped, not all the way, but enough. Enough for me to reach her. Enough for her to feel me.
I kissed her forehead. Then her jaw. Then her lips — slow, gentle, just breathing her in.
This kiss wasn’t about claiming or conquering. It was about holding. It was about being.
Because for the first time since I met Xalori Carson, she wasn’t fighting me. She wasn’t fighting us.
And for the first time since Ginger was born, I felt like I had something real to fucking lose.