47. CHAPTER 44
Orion
Ten weeks of sweet torture. Two months, two weeks, and five days.
Seventy fucking days. One thousand six hundred and eighty hours.
One hundred thousand eight hundred minutes of suffocating silence cold enough to make a man lose his mind.
Of course I counted every millisecond of every day; I’m a man of systems, and precision, and yet I could hardly breathe.
Every second, my heart was being slowly crushed by the very walls I’d built to protect it.
Now, we were finally here.
Having her in my bed again—feeling her body against mine, her weight, her skin—was a relief so profound it rivaled finding water in the middle of a scorched desert. She was mine again. Not because of a signature, or a debt, but because she was choosing to be.
I meant it when I said the hunt was over. I’m truly home.
But as I held her, the old instinct for self-preservation flared. I waited for the strike. For her to remind me that I was the one who had built her cage, the one who had bartered for her soul. I expected the cold blade of her logic to cut through this fragile peace.
But instead, she moved closer.
Her fingers threaded through my hair—damp from the heat of us—and she pulled me down with a soft authority that made my pulse roar in my ears. She wasn’t recoiling, but claiming me, just as I had claimed her.
“You didn’t catch me, Orion,” she whispered, her breath fanning my lips.
The sound of my name in her mouth—like I haven’t heard her say it many times before—made my knees weak. But it was what she said next that shattered me.
“I was waiting,” she exhaled. “I was just waiting for you to look up and see me. To see the woman, not a vessel for your alliance.”
I felt my breath catch in a pathetic, broken sound. Fuck, I was so far gone with her.
For ten weeks, I’d told myself I was managing a situation, but the truth was that I had been a man starving in the middle of a feast. I looked at her, and the sheer, violent intensity of what I felt for her terrified me.
It wasn’t just love; it was a total occupation.
I wanted to crawl inside her skin. I wanted to seal every exit so she’d never have a reason to look away from me again.
“The hunt didn’t end because you won,” she said, her lips brushing mine, sending a jolt of pure, electric life through my veins. “It ended because you finally came home. And if you’re home... then so am I.”
I let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. I was fucking obsessed.
I realised in that moment that I would burn every thing I’ve ever built just to keep the light in her eyes. I would dismantle the Kade name with my bare hands if it meant she’d keep touching me like I was something sacred.
“I love you, Orion,” she sighed. “Not for anything you own, but for the man you are when you’re with me. The one you are when the world isn't watching.”
I pulled her flush against me, my arms locking around her with a territorial, desperate strength that nearly bruised. I didn’t just want her; I needed the very air she exhaled. I wanted to brand her name so deep into my soul so the universe knew who I belonged to.
I’ve invested time and years in shattering rivals and bending everything I touch to my whim, but she was the only thing I’d ever encountered that I couldn’t control, and that was why I was utterly, hopelessly addicted to her.
“You’re mine,” I rasped into her hair, the words more a desperate plea than a command. “Everything else can burn, Léa. Just tell me you’re mine.”
As she whispered her “I’m yours” into my skin, it struck me that the hunt hadn’t just ended. It had been replaced by a devotion so deep it felt like a religion. I wasn’t a king anymore. I was a devotee at her altar, and I never wanted to be free again.
“I love you so much, Maia,” My voice was thick as I cupped her face, my thumbs caressing her cheeks. “Those weeks without you...they were hell. Waking up wishing you were in my bed, seeing you in the hallway and not being able to touch you, or hold you… it killed me.”
I was not sure why I felt the need to spill so much to her, but seeing how her eyes stayed locked on mine, attentive, it made me want to say more.
So I continued. “You're my world, the only thing that makes sense in the midst of everything else going on. I can’t lose you again. Ever.”
She nodded, a fresh tear slipping free, I kissed it away.
Before I could say anything else, her hand slid down my back, her nails grazing lightly over my spine, pulling me impossibly closer.
Her other hand wrapped around my cock; it jerked in her grip, still slick from our mixed release, and when she guided me back into her, I swore under my breath.
“Fuck—”
The way she looked at me—fierce, adoring, utterly mine—ignited a fire deep inside of me, a slow burn that had my hips twitching without my permission.
She was taking control and it made me so hard, I didn’t trust myself not to come after a single thrust.
“Léa,” I groaned, but she silenced me with her mouth, crashing our lips together in a kiss that was all fire and desperation.
Our tongues tangled together; she bit my lower lip so hard it stung, and the flash of pain knifed straight to my groin. I kissed her back savagely, devouring her as if I could swallow every day we’d spent apart. Weeks of tight restraint poured into the wet slide of our mouths.
She moaned into me, the sound vibrating in my chest, and her legs cinched tighter around my waist, her heels digging into my ass. My cock thickened fully inside her, stretching her as her walls clenched down, both our releases squelching softly with every tiny move.
It still wasn’t enough.
That first time had been about mending, forgiveness and my need to prove she was safe with me.
Now, it was hunger. Ugly, honest hunger. I wanted to ruin her in ways that scared me. Wanted my name etched into every nerve ending, so when the lights went out, I was all she could think of.
With a low growl, I tore my mouth from hers and flipped her in one swift motion. She gasped, making a startled sound that broke into a breathy laugh, then braced herself, her body moving with mine like she already knew where I was taking her.
I rolled her onto her stomach, my hands spanning her waist as I dragged her hips up, spreading her knees wide. Her back arched beautifully, and her hair spilled over the pillow. She turned her head, her cheek pressed into the linen, and looked over her shoulder at me—pupils blown wide with lust.
“Orion—”
“On your knees, love,” I ordered, my voice wrecked beyond recognition.
She pushed up, tilting her ass higher, presenting herself in a way that tested every thread of restraint I had left.
“Good girl,” I breathed, barely holding myself together. “You know exactly how I want you.”
I palmed both cheeks, my thumbs spreading her open. Her pussy was glistening—swollen, and dripping with us, the slick shine on her inner thighs proof of exactly how badly she needed this.
I dragged my thumb slowly over her entrance, circling the mess before pressing it in alongside my cock, still buried halfway in her. The double stretch made her shudder, a high, broken whine slipping out of her throat as her inner muscles fluttered tight around me.
“Feel that?” I drawled, leaning forward until my chest pressed to her back, my mouth close to her ear. I rolled my hips shallowly, working my thumb in rhythm. “That’s us. Mixed together. I’m going to fill you again, and you’re going to learn how good it feels when you stop holding anything back.”
She pushed back into me, desperate, her fingers clutching the sheets as though they were the only things keeping her from falling apart. Her hips rolled, searching for more.
I pulled out an inch dragging my thumb up, finding her clit and circling it in firm, filthy strokes before slamming back into her in one deep thrust. The wet slap echoed, filthy and fucking perfect.
Her cry was loud, muffled only because it was buried in the pillow. I wanted her louder.
I braced an arm under her hips, hauling her up until she was almost on all fours, and set a brutal pace.
Long, deep strokes that drove her forward with every thrust, the bedframe creaking in protest. My free hand knotted in her hair firmly, pulling her head back so I could claim her mouth in a sloppy, sideways kiss.
“Scream for me, Maia,” I demanded, my mouth hovering over hers, my hips snapping harder. “Let me hear how much you need this cock.”
She did. Oh, she fucking did.
“Orion—oh… oh my God, Orion,” she cried, her voice breaking on my name as I angled my thrusts to grind over that spot inside her that made her legs quake.
Her pussy clamped around me like a vice, rippling with every withdrawal, pulling me back in like she couldn’t bear a second of emptiness.
I reached around, catching her breast, pinching her nipple hard between my fingers until she sobbed and moaned my name even louder, her body trembling under the onslaught.
But I wasn’t done. She deserved more. I wanted to show her more.
I wanted her to understand how dangerously addictive she had become, how the scent of her skin and the sound of her breath had become the only oxygen I knew.
I wanted to show her that making love to her was a slow, beautiful drowning, and I had no intention of coming up for air.
That drowning was now a constant with us.
I slowed only to pull out completely, ignoring her broken whimper. Her body was loose, pliant, obedient in all the ways that mattered.
My sweet girl.
I started to flip her onto her back, then caught myself. No… wait. I wanted her wild.
I caught her hand and slid it down between her thighs. “Touch yourself,” I ordered, my voice grovel-rough. “Come on, show me how you make that pretty pussy beg.”
Her eyes dropped, lashes hiding her gaze, but her fingers obeyed, slipping between her lips, circling her swollen clit with practiced uncertainty that turned quickly into frantic movement as I watched, mesmerized.