Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
I knew there were others around, but at that moment, I didn’t give a fuck.
She was mine. And they knew it.
However, I wasn’t willing to let them see any more. I started down the hall, already headed toward our room, carrying her while she clung to me, breathless and so damn perfect. Her arms cinched tighter around me, her nose tucked into my neck like she needed to feel my pulse against her cheek to believe I was really back.
Then Fox’s voice cut through the air.
“Wrecker.”
He didn’t shout, but his tone was sharp as a blade. That quiet, authoritative rasp that made it clear he expected obedience the first time he spoke.
I stopped mid-step, jaw grinding, holding back the snarl that threatened to snap loose. Peyton blinked at me, a little dazed from the kiss, eyes shining as she looked up.
I didn’t want to let her go. Didn’t want to fucking stop. But I’d given Fox my oath, and I would not defy him—unless he ever got between Peyton and me.
Forcing myself to breathe through the slow burn of frustration crawling down my spine, I turned.
Fox stood by the pool table, one brow raised, mouth tugged into a smug half smile. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed something my way.
I caught it without thinking.
The leather was soft and broken in. Smaller than mine, but unmistakable.
A black vest, tailored for a woman’s frame. I knew that on the back was an Iron Rogues patch. And stitched across it would be the words: Property of Wrecker.
My chest clenched.
“’Bout fucking time,” Fox said with a wink, then turned and walked off.
I grunted my thanks—though it sounded more like a growl—then turned back down the hallway, stalking toward our room with my woman still wrapped around me and my property patch clutched in one hand like it was a lifeline.
When I kicked the door shut behind us and set her on her feet, she swayed a little, cheeks flushed, lips kiss swollen. Her eyes dropped to the vest in my hand, going wide and shining like sunlight through amethyst.
But when I didn’t move, the light dimmed.
I saw it—saw the flicker of doubt crease her brow, her teeth catching her bottom lip. She wanted to ask. I knew it.
The moment stretched too long, and she lost her nerve. A pout formed on her mouth, just a faint one, but it made me want to fucking devour her.
Biting back a grin, I couldn’t help teasing her. She was just too damn cute.
Instead of explaining, I reached for my woman and slowly peeled her out of her clothes. Almost reverently. I’d waited for this since the moment I first laid eyes on her. My fingers brushed over her skin with possessive strokes, baring inch after perfect inch until she stood naked in front of me, flushed and gorgeous and mine.
Peyton watched my every move, and her breath caught when I set the vest aside, folding it carefully on the edge of the bed.
The pout was back, and fuck, it was adorable.
Finally, I picked up the cut again, circling her slowly like a wolf stalking its mate. Her eyes followed me as I came around behind her, dragging my fingertips along her spine.
I reached up and brushed her hair aside, leaning in close until my lips were at her ear.
“I love you,” I rasped. “More than anything in the whole fucking world, Peyton. You were made to belong to me. And you’re gonna be my old lady.”
She sniffled softly, and her voice shook. “I love you too…so much.”
I slid the vest onto her shoulders, easing her arms through the holes. When I smoothed it into place, staring at the large, bold patch, I nearly fucking lost it.
Because it was perfect.
That vest on her bare skin? My brand on her back?
Fuck. Me.
“Turn around, baby.”
When she obeyed, my gaze roamed over her, from her pretty violet eyes to her tits playing peekaboo with the leather to the sweet spot between her thighs and all the way down to her purple-tipped toes. When my gaze returned to her face, I twirled my finger, indicating that I wanted her to turn around again.
When she did, I stepped in behind her, unable to help myself.
“You have no idea what this does to me,” I growled, wrapping my arms around her waist and hauling her back against my chest.
She gasped, hips rolling involuntarily as my hands slid up under the leather. I palmed her breasts, groaning when her nipples pebbled beneath my fingers.
“Seeing you like this,” I whispered in her ear. “Wearing my brand like the perfect little prize you are. It makes me hard as fuck.”
Peyton whimpered when I pinched her nipples between my fingers, twisting and plucking until her legs wobbled. “You like that, baby?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “Please.”
“I can smell how fucking wet you are,” I rumbled. “Just from me playing with these incredible tits. Having my brand on your back.”