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“Until you.”
I pause, daring to raise my gaze to his, my heart stopping in my chest when I see the look in his eyes. Possessiveness.Warmth. Adoration. Affection. And something else, burning so hot, I have to look away for a moment.
Oh . . .
“Your family hates me.”
“They don’t. And if they did,” he shrugs. “It wouldn’t change anything.”
“My mother is going to try to kill you.”
“I’m not afraid of death.”
“I come with a lot of baggage,” I say, almost whispering. Giving him any reason to find an out.
“I’ll carry it.”
My heart stops.
“Come here.”
I stay frozen.
He cocks a brow.
“Little doe, don’t make me come over there.”
Fine.Slowly, I stand, stepping around the table to stop in front of him. He turns to face me, leaning back in his chair and pulling me between his legs.
And then he does something so unlike Mason Carpenter, I think I might melt into a puddle on the floor.
Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around my waist and lays his head on my stomach. Holding me gently, as if I might shatter.
Right now, I feel like I might.
Gingerly, I reach up, stroking through the short strands of his hair, forcing myself to see him in full. He’s not just a powerful man, a dark and dangerous protector, or even an asshole. He’s also kind, loving, caring, and the best damned cheeseburger maker in the state. I’d put money on it.
A shudder rolls through him and he peers up at me for a moment, before tugging me forward to sit on his lap. And then he presses his lips to mine while my heart threatens to bruise my chest with how hard it’s racing. He kisses me like he needs to. Like it’s his last breath.
When he breaks away, our breath is ragged. “You can call me your boyfriend, Hannah. Your person. Your lover. Your fucking husband.” My heart bottoms out at the mention of husband and the rough way he growls it. “Just fucking stay.”
Carefully, I lean forward, pressing my lips to his gently. “I’ll stay,” I murmur against them. Is it even a question?
He rolls his hips against me and I wince, still sore from last night and the car this evening. Still, my body warms at its center, as if no matter how much I get of him, it’ll never be enough.
“I’m sore,” I breathe into his mouth.
He chuckles darkly, carefully lifting me and standing from the chair.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” I’m surer about that than anything else in life, right now.
“Little doe, I think I’ve ruined you.”
Hannah
“You look beautiful,” Mason murmurs roughly when he opens my door to the truck.
