He sets me down on the sofa, his eyes boring into me as if I’m naked before him. I always feel exposed with him looking at me like that. I’m open to him. My chest is cracked wide, and I allow him to see me. My pain. My fear. And the anxiety of everything that’s hit me the past few weeks.

We sit in silence for a while as if we’re both waiting for the other person to speak first. Perhaps I want him to confess the pain he lived with while I was gone. Maybe I want to tell him how much I wanted to run into his arms. Or even the moment I saw him in the room with two other women, how the anger had erupted from me, but I don’t tell him because all I want is for this to stop.

I want our stupid decisions to stop and for us to finally get back on the right path. Back to each other where we are meant to be. His fingers reach for mine as he takes my hand, brings it to his mouth, and presses kisses to my knuckles, then my palms. He takes his time. His lips feather over my wrists, up my arms, until he reaches my shoulders.

“What are you doing?” I question, watching his lips move along my skin causing goosebumps to rise all over my body.

“Loving you.”

Two words have my heart leaping into my throat. He continues his worship of my body with his mouth, licking, kissing, and stroking. He doesn’t touch my pussy. He focuses on my breasts, my stomach. His tongue dips into my belly button, making me giggle.

“You know, you never went away,” he utters, his mouth at my ear once more. The heat of his breath fanning over my skin. “No matter how much I drank, who I took to those rooms.” His whisper is pained. With his thumb, he swipes away my tears. The emotion that trickles down my cheeks for the man I love. “You were always there even when you walked away, Peyton. For years, I was closed off, shut away from the world before me. I spent my time in the dark, hidden behind walls I put up,” he whispers, confesses, as if I’m here to offer him salvation.

I cup his face in my hands, reveling in the soft smattering of stubble on his prominent jaw. Chiseled to perfection. He stares at me, meeting my eyes with those gentle golden orbs that see my soul. I open my mouth to speak, but his finger presses my lips, ordering me wordlessly to be quiet.

“I’ve never allowed anyone inside, and you burrowed your way into my heart,” he continues. His voice is low, husky, and ragged. “I never fucked anyone after you. I jerked off watching them.”

I wince at his confession, but this is what I wanted. Honesty.

“They were merely toys. Nothing ever filled the void you left. I was half a man for so long, when you walked into my life, I finally felt whole. Losing you was the worst thing I’d been through after Rory.” This time he drops his gaze, resting it on our entwined hands. The emotion that hangs so heavy between us is stifling.

“Carrick, you don’t have to—”

“You make me whole, Peyton. You are my other half. There’s nothing I can say to prove it more than--” he lifts his gaze to mine. It burns into me. It scorches me with emotion. It ignites yearning throughout my body. “I love you, and I will do all I can, for the rest of my life, to ensure you believe that you are made for me.”

My eyes flit over his, then his face, mouth, neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He’s nervous. I lift my stare back to his. Golden pools of honey shimmering with . . . fear? He’s afraid. I broke him by walking away, and in the process, I broke myself too.

“I didn’t want to love you. I’d convinced myself that it was never in the cards for me. But you, you’ve changed my mind. As much as I wanted to push, you pulled. And now I’m the one pulling,” he tells me earnestly. “Let me pull, Peyton. Please?”

A man who held onto control all this time has finally cracked, and I’m the cause of it. My heart lurches with agony when I realize he really does love me.

“It’s time I told you why I ran,” I utter, my throat raspy, burning with emotion. The lump in my throat thickens, choking me with the truth of what I’d learned. “You scared me. Not what happened between us, but more the idea of what you’d done. I judged you when I had no right to,” Peyton says as she settles beside me on the sofa. Her body is trembling, but it’s not pleasure on her face, it’s fear.

“You know you can tell me anything,” he assures me, taking my hand in his larger one.

“My ex-fiancé, Michael, was working with the mafia in New York. I knew but ignored it. I . . .” I sigh sadly. His brows furrow in confusion, but I continue with my confession. “I let him be because my father wanted us together. It was only when I turned eighteen that I found out what my father really did.”

His golden eyes pierce mine. He looks into my soul and implores me to believe he’s not the same. I see it. And I do. It’s as if he can read my mind.

“Being a loan shark for the mob was his undercover job. The one he never wanted us to know about, but . . .” I trail off. My tone is sad yet frustrated. “I figured it out. I walked in on a meeting he was having, and Michael, being his right-hand man, escorted me out. That was the first time I saw his true colors. The man I was in love with.” I glance at Carrick as I tell him, but I can tell he’s not angry. There’s not even and inkling of jealousy on his handsome face because he must know without a doubt I am his. “He was a liar, just like my father.”

“I’m not him.” Once again, he assures me, and I nod.

“I know. I was scared, because that night, Michael and I went out, and two men grabbed me. They . . . they would’ve hurt me because of who Michael worked for and what he was to the mob.”

I shake my head sadly. His eyes shimmer as they regard me. He doesn’t interrupt me, for which I’m grateful. I want to get this out as easily as possible.

He takes my other hand in his, drawing my attention to his face as he places a kiss on my knuckles. “I’m out of that life, and Callan will be staying here in Chicago to ensure we’re safe. My brother is my lifeline, and he’ll be yours too.”

“The man I was engaged to for years was working for a criminal organization, and I didn’t want that life. My heart aches for a family. For kids. Raising them in a house with violence as a norm is not what I envisioned for myself, but then you came along and made me love you.”

He smiles. His hands grip mine painfully, but I don’t flinch. I want to feel. It’s the pain that makes everything real. It ensures I’m still alive.

“I ran from you, but when I saw what it was like living without you, I knew I couldn’t do it.”

“Peyton, I’m not that man anymore. I’ve walked away from that life, and my family knows it. Callan and Cayleigh are here to see me. Not to take me back to that life.”

“I know. Callan came to see me,” I tell him. He doesn’t seem shocked, and I wonder if he asked his brother to talk to me. I smile when I recall what Callan said. “I know what you need. I spoke to Oliver about the lifestyle, and he explained it to me.”

“What do you mean?”

Sighing, I drop to my knees, needing to do this the right way. I meet his gaze. “You need the control, and I need the submission. I want to please you. It’s like an ache deep inside me, like my soul wants to see you happy. It craves the words good girl from you. No one else. When I was with Oliver, he told me that I can attempt to be with another man, but I’ll never feel the satisfaction I did with you because I love you.”

“Peyton—”

“You see, Sir. I’d already given you all of me. Even when I wasn’t with you, I was still yours. Nothing could’ve changed that. I find my strength as a woman in my submission to you.”

I smile. I offer him my happiest fucking megawatt grin, and I know without a doubt I’m ready to marry him right now.

“I know. I saw it the moment you kneeled for me in my office all those weeks ago. It may not be a long time that we’ve been together. But I feel you, Kitten,” he coos, pressing three fingers to my chest. “Here.”

I swallow past the lump of emotion in my throat. “And I feel you here,” I respond, mimicking his action with one of my own. He smiles then. It’s bright, beautiful, and makes his face light up. His eyes flicker as if a light has been turned on behind them.

He lifts me in his arms, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. “I want to make love to you, then I want to fuck you. When I’m done, you’ll not be able to walk, talk, or even feel anything other than my dick inside your body.”

I smile at his words. If only he knew how much he was inside me even when he wasn’t even near me. “Is that all, Sir?” I purr like a kitten in his ear causing a shudder to travel over his body.

“And don’t you ever run away from me again.”

“Why?” I sass. "You going to stalk me?”

“I’ll do so much more than that. Remember, Kitten, I have rope, cuffs, and many other implements to keep you here.” I glance at him, and I know for a fact he’s not joking, but I know he’ll do anything for me.

“All I need is you.” I tell him honestly. And in this moment, I know I’m finally home.

He doesn’t respond. He places me on the bed, spreads my legs, and rips my panties from my hips. The bite of pain from the material stings, but I revel in it. He kneels between my legs. His tongue lashes my pussy in long licks. I’m mewling in seconds, but he doesn’t relent. His fingers dip and delve into me.

Glancing down, I meet his stare and smile. He’s beautiful, even when all I see are those hungry eyes between my legs. He’s mouth latches on, suckling my core like I’m his sustenance. I cry out. My fingers tangle in his unruly hair, pulling him closer. My back arches as pleasure erupts through me.

His fingers dip into my core, pumping in and out. He finger-fucks me with abandon. He’s gentle yet rough, commanding, yet loving. My body is his to use as he pleases, and right now, he’s sending me right to the edge of desire.

My stomach tightens, coils like a serpent ready to attack. His teeth graze my clit. His tongue darts into me along with two, then three fingers as I cry out his name again and again. I’m pleading, begging, crying. Tears stream down my face as I crash into nothing. My toes curl, my pussy pulsing wildly around his digits, and I gush my release on his tongue.

And like Carrick always does, he laps me up like I’m his special treat.