“Leave,” Dane barked at Jagger.
Jagger’s smile didn’t falter. “On my way.” He nodded at Dane then André. “Gentlemen.”
André tipped his chin.
Dane turned to face me. “That was unnecessary.”
With the hard set to his jaw, and the impenetrable mask on his face, I couldn’t tell if he was angry or worried or both. “They need help.”
“Not my concern.”
His body heat radiating off him, his masculine scent all around me—his presence was so commanding, he could’ve been touching me and I wouldn’t have felt it any less.
I swallowed past the sudden dryness in my mouth. “I asked you to make it your concern.”
His hand gripped the side of my face and his voice came out rough. “Do not ask me to do that again.”
I could have hidden my emotions behind a mask of disinterest. I could’ve snapped back with a disrespectful retort or said I would do what I wanted, when I wanted, but I didn’t. That woman was gone. She died when Viktor died, and I needed to bury her. I was grateful to this man standing in front of me for saving my life. I wanted his attention, and I wanted to be worthy of it. I didn’t want to mess that up by being flippant or dishonest, so I gave him what he was giving me. Respect.
“I promise.” I wrapped my hand around his thick wrist. “I won’t.”
His curt nod and his intense stare were stronger than any words of response.
“Marek,” André interrupted us.
Dane didn’t take his gaze off mine. “Wait for us in the hall. I need a few minutes.”
“Copy.”
I heard a door shut and Dane’s lips were on mine. Soft and gentle, but oh so demanding, he slid his tongue in and stroked through my mouth as if he were starved for me. My toes curled, and need pooled low in my belly. Every second of last night was forgotten with one single kiss.
I wasn’t Viktor Fedorov’s wife. I never was.
I was the woman desperately straining on tiptoes to kiss back the man who was showing me with his hands grasping my face and his knee between my thighs and his erection straining against my belly, that I was his. Utterly and completely his.
But before I could hitch a leg around his waist and show him he was mine, he pulled back.
His lips against my mouth, his breath feathering across my skin, he gently caught the outside of my thigh and pushed my leg down. “No.”
Shame tinted my cheeks and I looked away. “I’m sorry.” I had misread his intent.
“Look at me,” he demanded, turning my face back to his. “I am not rejecting you.”
“I understand.” He was being careful, but it still felt like rejection.
“No, you don’t.”
I understood perfectly. “You don’t want to touch me… looking like I do.”
“No, goddamn it. I want to touch every inch of you.” His hands gripped me tighter. “But I am not making love to you until you heal.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t want to hurt you. Understand?”
A warmth in my chest so intense it hurt, warred with my shame and I gave him the only truth I really understood. “I want you to touch me. I want your marks on my skin, not his,” I disgracefully admitted. “I want you to make me yours.” My whispered admission took what little I had left of my pride and laid it at his feet.
Anger contorted his features like I’d never seen, and he gripped my chin so firmly it startled me. “I will never do that to you.”
I knew he would never touch me like Viktor had. That wasn’t what I meant. But I didn’t know how to give a voice to the need deep in my soul that had nothing to do with what Viktor had done to me and everything to do with wanting this man in front of me to claim me.
I wanted my thighs to have Dane’s fingerprint bruises. I wanted my lips swollen from his punishing kisses. I wanted my pussy to ache like fire from being stretched and well used by his huge cock. And I wanted his seed dripping down my leg with every step I took because I wanted his marks everywhere on me.
I pulled at his hand holding my face. “I know.”
He didn’t budge. “Then explain.”
“I can’t.” I couldn’t tell him that I wanted him to love me like he’d never loved another. I couldn’t tell him that I needed that to feel secure.
“Not hurting you doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings for you.”
This conversation, him leaving, my own disgrace, it made me want to crawl into a hole. “I know.”
“Then tell me why you want me to mark you,” he demanded.
“Tell me why it matters,” I snapped.
He searched my face as if looking for cracks. “You need to say the words.”
I broke. “Do you think this is easy? Do you think I wanted to say what I did? Do you think I want you to walk out that door and help other women like you helped me? I don’t. I don’t want you to be anyone’s hero except mine, and I don’t want you to be gone for one single second because I want you here with me. I want you to show me I’m yours.” Tears dripped down my cheeks, and I forced the rest out in an ashamed whisper. “I want to matter to you more than anything in this stupid world because that’s what you are to me.”
Huge, muscular arms full of strength and forgiveness and life and everything that meant anything to me pulled me into his embrace. “Irina—”
“I don’t want you to go,” I interrupted. “I don’t want to be that selfish. But I am. I’m broken and selfish, and I don’t care anymore about being whole. I just want to be yours.”
He held me tighter.
I choked on a sob. “And I hate crying. I don’t want to do it in front of you anymore, so go.” I took a step back. “Just go.”
He didn’t.
He followed my step and caught my face. Then he stared into my soul with his storm-intense gaze and he gave me his words. “You are mine, Irina Tsarko. And I am yours.”
I wanted to believe it, God I wanted to believe it, but self-doubt crowded my head. “You deserve more.” He deserved a woman who didn’t cry or let another man use her.
“You’re perfect.” Tender and sweet, he kissed me once then released me. “Get your things.”
An invisible tether broke the second he let go of me, and I wanted to rush back into his arms. I knew when I’d heard them talking that he had to help the women. When Viktor had taken me upstairs yesterday, I hadn’t even known there were other women at the estate. It made me sick to think about them being captive. They needed the kind of help Dane and his friend André could give them.
But I needed something from Dane before he left. “Promise me you won’t get shot. Or stabbed.”
A half smile tipped the corner of his mouth. “I promise I’ll come back to you.”
He didn’t give me what I asked for, but he gave me something more. I didn’t hesitate. I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his neck. Burying my head against his chest, I did something I should’ve done when he’d rescued me. “Thank you,” I whispered.
His huge hand caught the back of my head as his lips touched my hair. “You’re no longer broken, love. You’re free.”