There’s no privacy for talking in the helicopter, and thankfully Willow doesn’t argue, allowing me to buckle her into a seat. A short time later, we’re back at the house in Suffolk and the helicopter has spun off into the sky after we walk away.
I slow to a stop on the lawn and Willow does too, looking at me with an expression of surprise as we stand in the warm afternoon sunlight.
“This is your last chance, Willow,” I say tightly. “If you don’t want to be mine, you need to speak right now.” Otherwise, I’m taking murdering her brothers as a sign that she’s happy to stay.
“You just gave up the Witham territory,” she whispers, her brows puckering with confusion.
I shrug. It was never about that. All this was only ever for her.
She takes a tentative step closer and it’s all I can do not to lift her into my arms again.
I hold off.
“You know those ethical dilemmas?” I reply instead, because she has to know all of it. “The ones where you have, say, a big family about to be hit by a train, and a person you could sacrifice to save the children?”
She nods, but looks uncertain.
“If you were the one person, I’d let them die,” I say roughly. “I’d go over there and throw them in front of the train myself.”
That makes her draw in breath.
“I’d send millions into fire if I could have one more minute with you.”
Her gulp shows I’m making my point.
“Do not mistake me, I am a bad, bad man.” I grab her chin between my thumb and forefinger, tilting her head to force her to look into my eyes. “I killed your brothers. I am obsessed with you already. It will get worse. I am unhinged. I’ll never be reasonable about you, and your safety, and I guess that’s a red flag, or whatever people on the internet say.
“But I am your bad man,” I add more softly. “I will care for you, and I will love you. So long as there is breath in my body, I will put myself between you and any harm or threat.”
“Zane, I—”
“You can leave if you want,” I cut her off, because if I don’t make this promise aloud, now, I might not have the resolve to follow through. “I’ll take you somewhere else, that’s safe. And we can both pretend I don’t watch you, and stalk you, and kill any man who touches you.”
She shakes her head slowly, and my stomach plunges.
I continue anyway.
“I won’t give you up completely, but if freedom is really what you want—or the illusion of it at least—you have to tell me before I claim you and can’t let you go.”
It causes physical pain to drop my hand away. But I want a wife, not a prisoner. Either she feels the same, or she—
The air is knocked out of me as Willow throws herself against my chest. My arms close over her instinctively, and she clings, having somehow got her hands over my shoulders, and wrapped her legs around my waist.
“Little bunny.” I squeeze her, dragging in the strawberry scent of her hair. “Mine. You’re mine.”
“I love you,” she whispers into my neck.
For a second, I’m not sure I’ve heard right, but my heart takes it in anyway, jumping and expanding. I pull back her head so I can see her face.
“Say it again.” I must look ferocious, manic.
But Willow just smiles. “I tried to fight it, but there’s no point.”
“No, there isn’t.” I tighten my grip on her arse and her hair. “You’re my soulmate. You can’t escape me, and anyone who takes you from me will pay with their life.”
I’m moving then, taking her into the house with one thought in my lizard brain: get her to a bed. Get inside her. Breed her. Make her mine in every way, forever.
“Good,” she replies, then deliberately pulls up against my hold. It must tug her hair, and she lets out a sound of pleasure-pain as our mouths touch.
And that’s it.
I take the stairs two at a time and crash through the door to our bedroom. Kissing her, my tongue thrusting into her mouth, I lower her to the bed and cover her with my body.
Being with Willow and having my lips on hers is like coming home after a lifetime in exile, but I’m impatient for more. I grab at her clothes, tugging them to get at her naked skin.
“Have to see you. Now,” I grit out, my hands all over her. Then there’s no patience left in me, and I rip all the fabric I can reach, even as I keep kissing her.
She squeaks with surprise, but doesn’t complain as I drag the tatters of her top and shorts off her. I rear up, and the fact she’s still wearing knickers is un-fucking-welcome. Willow is trying to get my clothes off too, so far achieving only my tie and three middle buttons with her less efficient but not as destructive methods.
I grab the cotton panties in both hands and tear them from her body, leaving her naked.
“Spread your legs,” I demand, and though she obeys, it’s not quickly enough and I shove them roughly apart, my hands on her knees and reveal a sight that makes me groan.
“Fuck, look at you. My priceless jewel.” She’s pink and shiny. So soft and tempting. “You’re going to taste like heaven, and I can’t wait to eat your pussy until you come on my face.”
“Please, Zane. Let me touch you.” She reaches for me but I’m not sure I’ve got enough control to keep myself together and make this as perfect for her as it has to be if she’s exploring with her soft little hands.
“Soon, soon,” I promise, catching her hand and kissing the palm. “But before that, you’re going to be a good girl and come for me.”
“Zane!” she protests. “I don’t need that, I need your—”
“Willow,” I cut her off in my sternest voice. “This is your first time, and I have to do it right.”
“Now, I just want you now.” Frustration laces her words.
“Don’t make me force you to be good,” I warn her lightly. “I only have so much control, little bunny.”
That stops her, and makes her bite her lip. Then, slowly, deliberately, she sits up and nudges at my suit jacket.
“Like that, is it?” I grab her wrist with one hand, and my tie from where she discarded it on the bed with the other. In seconds I’ve bound the soft dark-red silk around her wrists and eased them over her head.
I exhale, and look into her face as I discard the suit jacket, and flick open my top button. My knee is between her legs. “Better?”
“No,” she mutters, but the way she arches her back, pushing tits up towards me, says, “Yes”.
I smirk. “Don’t worry, you will be.” I run one hand down her front and pause on her flat belly. “I’m going to fuck a baby into there.”
“Then do it!” she whines.
“When you’re ready, little bunny,” I reply. “And not before.” Dipping my head, I kiss her inner thighs, teasing both of us. Her skin is soft and sweet. I kiss closer and closer, until I breathe in the scent of her pussy, and she shivers.
Then I take a long, decadent lick up her seam and groan. “You’re delicious.” I use my fingers to part her wet folds, and taste her again. She’s sugar and musk and a little bit salty, and I cannot get enough of her, especially when she wriggles and sighs as I run my tongue over her clit.
I’d love to talk her through all this, but I’m incapable of doing anything but gorging on her. I alternate between holding her legs further apart and using my thumb to prepare her needy little hole.
There’s no compromise. I don’t say it aloud because I don’t need to. My message is already clear: I’m not fucking you, little bunny, until you’ve come.
And I’m not stopping licking her either. I’m insistent.
Then I want more. I shift so I can hold her pussy lips fully open with one hand, and plunge a finger into her tight passage. She bows and gasps at the intrusion.
I don’t apologise. I ram into her, rubbing upwards to where she’s sensitive, feeling for the right spot and listening to her whimpers. As soon as she’s given me enough space, I pull out and this time it’s two fingers, and I find the place that makes her cry out with only a few more strokes.
Willow sobbing is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, and she quivers beneath my mouth and on my fingers, getting more and more wound up. And then I feel it before she vocalises her pleasure. She goes rigid, and her legs jerk.
She clenches around my fingers and the fierce, possessive pride in me is fire as she cries out in satisfaction. I kiss and lick her through it.
“So fucking perfect,” I mutter against her clit as I ease off.
My cock is thick and desperate to claim Willow’s virgin pussy, straining my trousers so hard I’m surprised it hasn’t ripped a seam open. I want her pregnant with my child as soon as possible.
I look up. Her cheeks are flushed, and her long hair is messy where she’s been thrashing around.
She looks thoroughly debauched. I smirk.
“Now you’re ready to be bred.”
