Page 84 of The Commander

Gliding in and out of her, I slow things down and explore every inch of her gorgeous, toned body. She has muscles where most women don’t because of her job, and I lick my way over them.

At her neck, I leave a mark, hoping every man in the world notices.

She loves me.

Quinn has finally admitted she is in love with me, and I’m not letting her go.

We move around the bed, and when I finally get her on her knees and my cock in her mouth, I lock my fingers behind my head and close my eyes.

Bliss.

Pure fucking bliss.

I’ve dreamed about this for years. Hell, I’ve jerked off to this image of my dick sliding down her throat, and oh my Lord, it’s a thousand times better.

My seed spills onto her tongue and down her chin, as she strokes and licks me to the end. Then my future wife collapses beside me, and I pull her into my arms.

We fall asleep.

Hours later, I wake to find her sprawled across my chest. She’s breathing deeply, so I pull the covers over us and glance at my watch.

Dawn is close.

The compound is going to start stirring soon, and Quinn will wake up. Then she’ll bolt. I know her. She was scared to lose me last night, and it forced a confession out of her. It’s why I didn’t just let her go back to her room to sleep and recover.

Claiming her had to happen—and like, she wasn’t complaining—but I don’t think she realizes what it means.

Forever.

I’m not taking no for an answer. She belongs to me, and whatever needs to happen, I will do it.

One of us could have died tonight, more so than at any other time we’ve known one another. We both have dangerous jobs, but when I thought she was shot, and when Quinn thought I could die at any point while inside that house, it forced her true feelings to the surface.

If I’d known that’s all it would take, I may have faked my own kidnapping by the Bratva or something.

I’m kidding.

(Sort of.)

I take the next few minutes, while the world is still quiet, to get my thoughts together. The fact that my head is still thumping from being bashed by the damn Mexican doesn’t help, but this is a defining moment in my life.

A sliding doors scenario.

If Quinn walks away, the image of my father with my face replacing his slams into me.

Fuck that.

I am not going to end up bitter and alone, wishing my life away for a woman. But I know it’s possible. I love Quinn that much. If she agrees to marry me, I will give her the world. I will make sure she has the home she dreams of, the family, the vacations—hell if she wants diamonds or combat boots, I’ll give her every damn kind she wants.

I just want her.

In my bed, in my arms and in my heart.

She stirs. Her small hand drifts up my chest and around my neck. “Noah.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” I rasp, lowering my mouth to hers for a soft and slow kiss. She blinks, and we stare at one another for a long moment. I watch as the cogs of her brain tick away, seeking an exit.

“I’m not letting you go.”