Chapter 8
EIGHT
THORNE
The energy has not left my body since Sadie finally drifted off.
It hums under my skin, restless and hot, refusing to settle.
I want her. The need sits heavy in my chest and lower, a constant pull that makes every breath feel tight.
More than want, I need to keep her safe.
The files I pulled from the encrypted drive are enough to bury Magnus for good.
Financial trails, names, dates, locations where he moved product and people.
It’s all there, clean enough for the feds or dirty enough for the kind of justice Haven men deliver when the law moves too slow.
Yet the worry for Sadie lingers. Magnus does not let go of what he thinks belongs to him. Not easily. Not ever.
I move through the cabin on quiet feet, checking locks one last time.
The mountain is still tonight, but my instincts stay sharp.
When everything checks out I head down the short hallway to the bedroom.
The door stands slightly open the way she left it.
Soft lamplight spills across the bed where she sleeps.
Sadie lies curled on her side under the thick quilt, dark hair spread across the pillow.
Her breathing is slow and even, lips parted just enough to make my pulse kick harder.
She looks small in my bed, fragile in a way that twists something fierce inside me.
I lean against the doorframe and watch her for a long minute, letting the sight settle the worst of the restlessness.
She’s here. Under my roof. Safe for now.
Her lashes flutter. A soft sound escapes her. Then my name, barely more than a breath. “Thorne…”
I step inside. “I thought you were sleeping.”
She shifts, eyes opening slowly, heavy with lingering sleep. The quilt slips down to her waist, revealing the thin tank top she got from the bag of items the women dropped off. Her gaze finds mine in the low light. “I was. Sort of. Couldn’t stop thinking.”
“About what?” I keep my voice low.
“You.” She bites her lower lip, then lets it go. “Will you lay with me?”
The request hits me square in the chest. I nod once, unable to refuse her anything right now.
I reach behind my neck, grab the collar of my shirt, and pull it off in one smooth motion.
The cool air brushes my skin as I drop the shirt on the chair by the bed.
Her eyes track the movement, widening slightly as they move over my chest and shoulders.
I see the flicker of nerves mixed with something warmer. Good. I want her to look.
I climb onto the bed carefully, the mattress dipping under my weight.
I stretch out beside her on top of the quilt at first, giving her space.
My heart pounds hard against my ribs, steady and loud in my ears.
She turns toward me, one small hand resting on my bare chest. Her fingers are cool. Mine are not.
“Come closer,” I murmur.
She scoots in until her body presses against mine.
I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her the rest of the way, tucking her head under my chin.
She fits there like she was made for it.
Her breath fans across my skin. For a moment we just lie like that, hearts beating against each other. Then she tilts her face up.
I meet her halfway. The first kiss is slow, testing.
Her lips are soft and tentative. I take my time, brushing my mouth over hers again and again until she relaxes and parts for me.
When my tongue slides against hers she makes a quiet sound that goes straight to my groin.
I keep it gentle, coaxing, letting her set the pace while my hand strokes up and down her back in long, soothing passes.
She grows bolder, pressing closer, one leg sliding over mine. Heat builds between us, slow and thick. I roll us carefully so she lies on her back and I hover above her, weight braced on my forearms. I break the kiss to look down at her.
“You sure about this?” I ask, voice rough. “We can stop anytime.”
“I’m sure.” Her cheeks flush pink. “I have never… done this before.”
The admission sends a fresh wave of protectiveness through me, mixed with a sharp edge of desire. Her first time. With me. I’ll make it good for her. Slow. Careful. Everything she deserves.
“I’ll take care of you,” I tell her. “Just breathe and tell me what feels good.”
I kiss her again, deeper this time, while my hand slips under the hem of her tank top.
My palm glides over the soft skin of her stomach, up to the curve of her breast. She arches into the touch with a small gasp.
I thumb her nipple through the thin fabric until it tightens, then push the tank top higher.
She lifts her arms and I pull it off, dropping it beside the bed.
She lies bare from the waist up, skin flushed and glowing in the lamplight.
Beautiful. I take a moment just to look, letting her see the hunger in my eyes.
Then I lower my head and kiss the hollow of her throat, the slope of her shoulder, the swell of her breast. When my mouth closes over her nipple she whimpers, fingers threading into my hair.
I suck gently, tongue circling, while my hand kneads the other side. Her hips shift restlessly beneath me.
I work my way lower, kissing down her ribs, her stomach, until I reach the waistband of her sleep shorts.
I hook my fingers in and glance up at her.
She nods, eyes dark and trusting. I slide the shorts and her panties down together, tossing them away.
She’s completely bare now, legs trembling slightly as I settle between them.
“So pretty,” I murmur against her inner thigh.
I kiss the soft skin there, then higher, until my mouth finds her center.
She jolts at the first slow lick. I hold her hips steady and do it again, tasting her, learning what makes her breath hitch and her fingers tighten in my hair.
I take my time, circling her clit with my tongue, sliding one finger inside her when she starts to rock against me.
She’s tight, wet, and so responsive. I add a second finger, curling them gently while I suck lightly on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Her moans grow louder, breath coming in short gasps.
“Thorne… oh…”
“That’s it,” I say against her. “Let go for me.”
She does, back arching, thighs shaking as the orgasm rolls through her. I keep licking and stroking until the tremors ease, then kiss my way back up her body. When I reach her mouth she kisses me eagerly, tasting herself on my tongue.
I sit back long enough to shove my jeans and boxers down and off. My cock is hard and heavy, aching for her. Her eyes widen when she sees me, a flicker of nerves returning.
“We go slow,” I promise. “You tell me if it hurts.”
I reach for the drawer in the nightstand and grab a condom, rolling it on while she watches.
Then I settle between her thighs again, the blunt head of my cock pressing against her entrance.
I kiss her softly, distracting her with my mouth while I push forward inch by careful inch.
She’s so tight it makes my jaw clench. I pause when she tenses, stroking her hair, murmuring against her lips.
“Breathe, baby girl. Relax for Daddy.” The word slips out low and rough. But I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t enjoy the thought of being her daddy. Not her real father, but somebody who takes care of her. Always.
Her eyes flutter and she nods, hips tilting to take more of me. I sink deeper, slow and steady, until I’m fully seated inside her. We both groan. She feels perfect, hot and slick around me.
I stay still, letting her adjust, kissing her neck and whispering how good she feels, how beautiful she is, how I have wanted this since the moment I saw her. After a minute she moves experimentally, a small roll of her hips. Pleasure shoots up my spine.
“That’s my girl,” I praise. I start to thrust, shallow at first, then deeper as she meets me.
Her hands clutch my shoulders, nails digging in.
I keep the pace steady, grinding against her with every stroke so her clit gets friction.
Her moans turn into soft cries. I reach between us and circle her clit with my thumb, feeling her tighten around me.
“Come again for me,” I tell her, voice husky. “I want to feel it.”
She does, clenching hard around my cock as another orgasm washes over her.
The sight and feel of her coming pushes me close to the edge.
I thrust a few more times, deep and controlled, then bury my face in her neck as I follow her over.
Pleasure crashes through me, long and intense, leaving me shaking.
I stay inside her while we both catch our breath, kissing her softly, stroking her hair, telling her how perfect she was. When I finally pull out I dispose of the condom and pull her into my arms, tucking the quilt around us both.
She curls against my chest, sleepy and sated. “Thank you,” she whispers.
I press a kiss to her forehead. “No thanks needed, baby girl. You’re mine now. And I take care of what’s mine.”
The energy in my veins finally settles into something warmer, deeper. She’s safe in my bed. In my arms. And tomorrow we’ll deal with Magnus and the rest of the world. Tonight there’s only this. Only us.