CHAPTER 5: Don’t Forget Who Owns Every D*mn Inch Of You Now

  Zed Travis Thorn’s POV

  I saw her the second she walked in.

  Same damn aura. Same pull that dug right under my skin and rooted there, exactly like that night. She swallowed hard, throat bobbing slow, darted her eyes away fast, then pressed her lips tight like she was bracing for whatever I’d throw at her.

  “You ready?”

  She lifted her chin, tried to look steady. “I am.”

  I bit back a bitter smirk. F*cking cute. I spotted it anyway, her hand, hanging loose at her side, shaking so slightly anyone else would’ve missed it. Not me. I see every damn thing about her.

  That night she bailed hasn’t left my head for one second. Not one hour, not one damn minute. I still feel her curve pressed to mine, still taste her skin, still hear that shaky breath right before she put a stop to it all. Every detail burned into my brain like a brand: the way her pulse jumps fast under her jaw, the exact soft sound she makes when she’s close, the scent that sticks to my clothes and haunts my empty bed for days after. I tried to scrub it out. Tried to drink it off, work it off, f*ck it out of my system with anyone else. None of it worked. She’s everywhere. Under my skin, in my head, in every damn breath I take. Fuc)king nightmare. That’s why I said yes when she came back. Told myself I’d take her, use her, prove she’s just like every other woman, nothing special. Just a body, just a womb. But that’s a lie I keep telling myself, and we both know it. I didn’t let her come back to prove anything. I let her come back because I couldn’t stay away. Because I’m f*cking addicted.

  She dropped her bag on the sofa. And then it hit me: her scent. Filled the whole damn room in one breath, tangled in my lungs, thick and warm and hers alone. It wraps around me like a chain, locks tight, pulls me right to her whether I want it or not. F*ck.

  She stepped closer. My blood went hot and heavy, thrumming rough under my skin, every warning I tried to lock down snapping thin. Every step she takes toward me feels like she’s walking straight into the hollow space I didn’t know only she could fill.

  “You actually showed up,” I said, voice flat, cold, but my hands were already itching to touch her, to make sure she was real, that she wouldn’t vanish again.

  “I keep my word.”

  “We’ll see.” I stepped into her space, no hesitation, no softness, hungry, ravenous, like I’ve been starving for her since the second she walked out. “Last time you ran. Left me with nothing but the ghost of you and a whole lot of questions I don’t want to admit I’m asking.”

  “I won’t run again.”

  “Good.” My hand shot out, curled firm around her jaw, grip just short of rough, like I’m holding on for dear life and pretending it’s just control. “Because you walk out on me again, and I will hunt you down. Drag you right back. Lock you up so tight you’ll never see the outside of these walls again. Everything for her dies with it, and so does every last bit of freedom you think you have. You get me? You’re mine now. Mine to use. Mine to keep. Mine until I’m done, and I don’t think I’m ever going to be done with you.”

  She flinched, but didn’t look away. “I get it.”

  F*cking finally.

  I kept her right there, close enough she could feel how hard I wanted her, not sweet, not gentle, just sharp and starving and so far gone it’s scary. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t want you. Not really.” The lie tastes like ash in my mouth. I want nothing but her. Every part. Every secret. Every breath. “I need what you’ve got. Your body. Your womb. An heir. That’s it. Nothing else.” Another lie. I need her presence, her voice, her stubborn backbone, the way she looks at me like I’m not just a monster. I need all of it.

  She nodded, fast, too fast. “I know what this is.”

  “Better.” I dragged my thumb over her lip, slow, possessive, memorizing the shape, the warmth, like I’m already terrified I’ll forget it again. “You’re here to do a job. Do it right, stay in your lane, but don’t you dare think you can hide from me. I’ll know where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re talking to. Every second. Every thought. I want it all. Cross a line, catch feelings, get stupid, and I cut you loose? No. I never let you go. You’re stuck with me now.”

  “I won’t.”

  Her hands landed light on my chest, and that damn pull flared hot enough to burn. F*cking hell. I wanted to be mad about it. Wanted to tell myself it didn’t mean jack shit. But every time she breathed, every time she shifted against me, I felt it like a punch to the ribs, sharp, possessive, insane. I’d burn the whole world down before I let anyone take her from me. I’d tear anyone apart who even looked at her wrong. That’s how far gone I am. F*cking pathetic. F*cking inevitable.

  “Then we start,” I said, tone cold as ice even as every fiber of my being screamed to claim her, mark her, make it impossible for anyone else to ever touch her. “And don’t forget who owns every damn inch of you now.”

  “I won’t,” she whispered.

  I leaned in, mouth inches from hers, every word grit and warning and that dark, consuming hunger I can’t hide anymore. “Good. Because this time, I don’t stop once I start. And I sure as hell am never letting you leave again.”