Chapter Thirty-Four
Isla
" N ow," Adrian's voice dropped low and growly, "we need to discuss your little adventure today."
His hands moved, shifting me until my stomach pressed against the hard muscle of his thighs, my ass lifted and exposed to the warm air.
The rough bark of the tree at his back cast shade over us, leaves rustling above like voyeuristic witnesses.
"You left the house without telling me," he growled, possessive heat burning in his green eyes. "Put yourself in danger. Made me hunt you down like some feral animal."
Wasn’t he?
One tattooed hand splayed across the small of my back, pinning me in place, while the other gathered the hem of my white sundress.
The fabric slid upward, inch by inch, until the breeze kissed my bare thighs.
His calloused palm rasped over the lace of my panties, and I shuddered, torn between shame and arousal .
"Look at this," he crooned, tracing the damp spot soaking through the delicate fabric.
"Already dripping for me, angel? Even after running like a scared rabbit?"
His fingers hooked into the waistband, stretching the lace taut against my skin. "These need to go."
The sound of his jade knife being flicked open froze the air in my lungs. The same bloodied blade that had been buried in Noah's flesh now glinted murderously.
He made a show of wiping it clean in his shirt, blood smearing on the fabric before he held it up with a feral grin.
“Clean. Now hold still," he warned, dragging the cold steel along the seam of my panties. "Wouldn't want to nick this perfect ass."
Was this insane? My boyfriend using the knife that he just stabbed my ex-boyfriend with on me?
The lace parted, the blade slicing upward until my panties hung in ruined shreds.
He tossed them aside carelessly, and I flinched as the knife buried itself in the forest floor beside us, jade handle catching the dappled sunlight.
"There," he growled, palming my bare cheeks, squeezing until I whimpered. "Now this is how my angel should be for me. Bare, exposed, mine."
His hand descended without warning, a sharp crack against my bare cheek, the slap echoing through the trees.
I jerked forward with a cry, but his grip in my hair held me firm, forcing my spine into an arch.
"One," he counted, his voice darkly amused as his hand rubbed the sting deeper into my flesh. "For running."
Another slap landed on my other cheek, his rough palm igniting fire that bloomed into throbbing heat.
"Two. For leaving the house without telling me."
My nerves lit like a match, the heat spreading down to my clenching core .
The third spank came harder, his fingers splaying to grip the burning flesh.
"Three. For looking at me like I'm some monster when all I did was save your pretty ass."
Tears pricked my eyes. A bit from pain, but mostly from the shameful pulse between my legs, the slickness I couldn’t hide.
Adrian’s laugh was low and knowing as his fingers trailed through my folds, gathering wetness.
"Look at this," he crooned, holding his glistening fingers to the sunlight. "Dripping from a spanking. Dirty angel."
Before I could respond, those same fingers circled my asshole, pressing insistently like he did yesterday.
I tensed, a whimper escaping as he pushed the tip inside, stretching me with my own wetness.
"Shhh," he soothed, his other hand tightening in my hair until my scalp burned. "You take what I give you. Isn’t that right?"
I nodded frantically as he worked his finger deeper. The stretch burned, the filthy fullness making me squirm.
His free hand landed another sharp smack to my thigh, making me jerk.
"Words, Isla."
"Yes!" The word tore from me, half-sob, half-moan. "Yes, I’ll take it!”
He purred his approval, adding a second finger alongside the first. The ache sharpened, my body clamping down instinctively as he scissored them.
"Good girl. So tight here." His thumb found my clit, rubbing rough circles that had my hips jerking.
"But here…" He pressed down hard on my clit, making me cry out. "Here you’re fucking soaked. Begging to have me inside you.”
The duality destroyed me—the brutal stretch of his fingers in my ass, the relentless pressure on my clit.
His pace quickened, the slick sounds of my arousal mixing with the crinkle of leaves as he adjusted beneath me .
"Should’ve known," he murmured, leaning over my back, dragging my cardigan down with his teeth. He bit my shoulder, making me gasp.
"My angel needs both holes filled to behave."
The dirty words sent a fresh flood of wetness between my legs. I choked on a sob, humiliation and pleasure colliding as he pushed his fingers fully into my hole.
"There we go," he crooned, beginning slow, long thrusts.
When he finally withdrew, I nearly sobbed until he yanked me upright by the hair, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “On your knees, angel.”
He shoved me forward, my cardigan crumpling beneath me like a blanket as he settled me on my hands and knees.
His hands manhandled me onto it, the soft knit scratchy against my cheek.
My ass hovered in the air, exposed and trembling, while he knelt behind me. The sound of his zipper made me look back over my shoulder.
“Eyes forward,” he ordered, gripping my hair to angle my face away.
He dragged the thick head through my soaked folds, coating himself.
His groan was raw and deep. “Fuck, you’re just dripping for my cock.”
I felt his spit hit my rear entrance, warm and wet. His thumb pressed against the tight ring of muscle, working in small, insistent circles, coating me in his saliva.
“Relax,” he murmured, as if I had a choice. “I’m gonna make this pretty little hole mine.”
The blunt head of his cock pressed against my asshole, and I tensed instinctively.
He cursed under his breath, his hips faltering as he slowly pushed forward. The stretch was intense, burning even as my body gradually yielded to his invasion .
“Shit," he breathed, voice strained. "I knew you'd be tight, but fuck—" A bead of sweat dripped onto my back as he bottomed out with a low hiss.
For a moment, neither of us moved, the forest air thick with the sound of our breathing. Then his hand slid below me, his thumb finding my clit again.
“That’s it,” he rasped, rolling the sensitive nub as he began to move. “My angel taking every inch in her tight ass.”
His thrusts were slow at first, brutal in their precision, each drag of his cock lighting sparks along my spine.
But when he suddenly shoved two fingers into my dripping heat, I screamed.
He was stretching me, filling me, owning me in every hole.
“Squeezing me so tight,” he growled, his pace turning punishing. “Both holes stuffed full. Just how you like it.”
His thumb worked faster over my clit, his fingers curling inside me to stroke that sweet spot as he fucked my ass with relentless rhythm.
“You gonna come like this? Gonna milk my cock with this greedy ass while I finger-fuck your pussy, yeah?”
I couldn't answer, couldn't think. Pleasure and pain blurred into a white-hot crescendo that built and built until?—
I came screaming, my body clenching around him. The orgasm ripped through me, violent and endless, my screams muffled by the cardigan as he fucked me through it.
His hips stuttered, and he leaned over me, groaning as his breathing heightened.
“Fuck—” A thrust. “Angel—” A thrust. “Tight ? —”
His own release followed with a deep, primal roar.
He collapsed over me, his nose buried against my throat as he spilled deep, his weight pressing me into the earth beneath my cardigan.
When he finally pulled out, he turned me onto my back, his thumb swiping through the mess he’d made of me.
His green eyes burned with feral pride as he licked his fingers clean of his own spend and mine, eyes amused as he looked over the mess he made of me.
Then, like a switch had been flipped, Adrian's expression softened. The predatory hunger in his gaze melted into something warmer, tender.
He gathered me into his arms, cradling me against his chest.
His lips brushed over my forehead, my cheeks, the tip of my nose, feather-light kisses that contrasted sharply with the bruising of moments before.
"Angel," he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. "My perfect angel."
I nestled against him, my body still humming with aftershocks.
The forest floor was surprisingly comfortable beneath us, a cushion of moss and grass that smelled of earth and renewal.
"Crew," I said suddenly, reality rushing back as my mind cleared. "He?—"
"Shh," Adrian soothed, stroking my hair. "Jax took him home. He's safe. Connor’s handling Noah."
Something dangerous flickered across his face at the mention of Noah's name, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
"You don't need to worry about anything right now."
I wanted to ask what “handling” meant exactly, but I had a pretty good idea. He did stab him… twice… and then choked him…
The image of Adrian standing over Noah, knife in hand, blood spattered across his shirt, was still vivid in my mind. Yet I only nestled deeper into his protective warmth.
After a bit of peaceful silence, Adrian helped me sit up, looking down at my cardigan beneath us.
"This is ruined," he said with a small frown. "I can't put it back on you."
He began dusting grass from my skin, his large hands deft, tenderly removing every speck of forest debris from my body.
The care he took was worshipful, his eyes following his fingers' path across my skin .
"You got some scratches," he murmured, tracing a small red line on my thigh. “Should’ve been more careful with you."
"I'm fine," I assured him, though my body was beginning to register various aches and twinges I got while running. "Really."
Adrian's eyes darkened as he helped me fix my sundress, his fingers lingering on the ribbon at my throat.
"You shouldn't have left without me," he said quietly. “Especially without telling me where.”
The gentle rebuke made me wince. "I was worried about Crew. I wasn't thinking.”
"I know," he sighed, pressing his forehead against mine. "Just... don't do it again. Please. When I saw you with him—" His voice faltered, something I'd never heard before.
"I can't lose you, Isla. I was born into hate. You're the only love I've ever found.”
The vulnerability in his confession made my heart squeeze. I reached up to cup his face, feeling the slight tremor in his jaw.
"These tattoos," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper as he caught my hand and pressed it against his chest, "they're not just art. They're covering scars, burns, cuts, every mark monsters left on me before I was old enough to fight back."
My breath caught as the questions I never asked were answered.
The only tell was the darkness that lived behind his green eyes. No one would guess his truth with his warm outward personality.
"My… birthers ,” he said, the word bitter on his tongue, "weren't parents at all. They were sadists who enjoyed breaking a child. Night after night, year after year, until something inside me snapped."
His eyes met mine, unflinching. "I killed them, Isla. When I was seventeen, I finally had enough, and I put them down like the rabid animals they were."
The confession was shocking, my eyes widening.
I stared up at him, but he was staring right back down at me, seemingly searching my face before continuing .
Still, I wasn’t scared of him. He’d hurt people who’d hurt him all his life. I gave him a small nod.
"Wade Easton found me sitting in a cell," Adrian continued, his thumb stroking across my cheekbone. "Facing a murder charge, half-feral, completely alone. He looked at me and asked if I wanted brothers. Real ones."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Connor was already there, quiet, steady, the anchor I needed. Jax was born in, obviously, the golden arrogance and reckless energy that completed our brotherhood.”
"They saved you," I whispered.
"They kept me sane," he offered. “Taught me how to channel the rage instead of letting it consume me. Wade showed me there were... productive ways to handle the darkness. Ways to protect what mattered without losing myself completely."
His eyes grew distant for a moment.
"There are things I do for us, for this family, that you'll never know about. Things that keep us safe, that keep our enemies quiet. I won't burden you with those details, angel. Some darkness should remain buried."
I nodded, understanding that he was protecting me from whatever shadows he still walked in.
I trusted this beautiful, immensely strong survivor with my life.
"You won't lose me," I said firmly, my hands framing his face. "Not ever."
Something shifted in his expression—relief, love, possession, all warring for dominance. He kissed me, soft and desperate, pouring all his fear and devotion into the connection between us.
When he pulled back, he seemed to collect himself, the vulnerable man disappearing behind his usual protectiveness. "Can you walk?"
I took a tentative step and winced. "Just sore."
Without hesitation, Adrian scooped me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. "I've got you, angel. "
He carried me through the woods along a path I hadn't noticed before.
The neon green Lamborghini sat parked on a small road just beyond the tree line, looking absurdly out of place against the natural backdrop.
"How did you find me?" I asked as he gently set me in the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt.
Adrian's expression turned grim again as he lowered my door and walked around to the driver's side. "Your phone," he said, sliding behind the wheel.
"I tracked it. And when I saw you heading to this part of the park..."
He trailed off, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. "Jax and Connor came separately.”
I honestly expected that much, especially after the whole watching me in my bedroom thing.
If Adrian hadn't tracked me, hadn't known where I was going...
"Thank you," I whispered, overwhelmed by what could have happened without him.
His only response was to reach across the console and take my hand, entwining our fingers as he pulled onto the main road.
The weight of his confession felt like a bridge rather than a barrier, a piece of himself he'd trusted me with.
It was another reason why losing each other was impossible.