Page 40 of Mysterious Mate

He fisted her hair and tugged, pulling her head back as he ravaged her body, fucking her harder and faster.

“Do you forgive me?” he rumbled low and seductively.

“Wh… what?” she stammered unable to think coherently.

“Do you forgive me? Do you want to continue to be my sweet fuck toy?” He pulled her hair hard and slapped her ass as his hips pistoned into hers.

Willow was so close, so very close.

Cage slid his hand down around to pinch her clit hard just as he angled his hips upward and growled out, “Answer me Willow or I’ll take you over to that bed and edge you all night. You’ll suck my dick as many times as I want and swallow all my cum, but you won’t get to climax until tomorrow morning. Forgive me?”

“Yes,” she cried.

The world exploded into a cascade of colors as she came, screaming his name in ecstasy. Anyone who’d missed their little show would have no doubt what they’d been doing. Cage began fucking her harder and faster until he too climaxed moments later, moaning her name like a prayer as he spilled himself inside her.

He collapsed against her and they stayed joined together until Cage reluctantly withdrew. Afterwards, as they nestled in their bed, the castle walls echoed with the sounds of the night, a reminder of the battles fought and the ones still to come. But for now, in the quiet of their room, Willow allowed herself to rest, knowing that she was not alone.

CHAPTER 20

WILLOW

The next morning, Willow found herself drawn to the beach. She slipped out of bed, leaving Cage alone. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft golden light over the waves. She wandered down the steep, meandering path down the cliff, through the tall grasses of the dunes and onto the pristine sand. The cool morning breeze brushed against her skin, making it come alive in a way it never had before. The sea stretched out before her, vast and endless, a perfect metaphor for the new life awaiting her.

She knelt in the sand; the grains cool and damp beneath her knees. Staring out at the horizon, she whispered almost to herself, “I’m free. It’s all over.”

The words felt surreal, like they belonged to someone else. For so long, freedom had been an elusive dream, something she dared not hope for. Now, it was her reality. She could leave, resume a normal life, whatever that might be. But the path ahead was uncertain, and she couldn’t ignore the scars that had been left behind.

A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Cage standing beside her—naked as the day he’d been born. His presence was a steady comfort, a reminder of the strength she had found in herself and the support he had provided. He sat down next to her, silent for a moment, sharing the peace of the morning.

He echoed her words softly, "You’re free."

Willow turned to look at him, her eyes searching his. She saw understanding and shared relief. They had both been through so much, and now, on the other side, they faced a future that was uncertain but theirs to shape.

She nodded, feeling a mixture of hope and trepidation. "What do I do now?"

Cage reached out, taking her hand in his. "Whatever you want. Your life is yours to live. No more running, no more hiding."

A tear slipped down Willow’s cheek, but it was a tear of release, not sorrow. "I don’t know where to start," she admitted.

“You’re a bright girl; I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he said gruffly.

The words hung in the air, confusing and cutting. Did he want her? Or did he want her gone? On shaky legs, Willow stood, trying to steady herself against the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She took a deep breath, her voice barely steady as she spoke. "You’re right I am. Neither you nor Interpol need me anymore, so I guess I can be on my way. I’ll be ready to go within the hour."

She thought she saw the lines around Cage's mouth tighten, but that was the only response he gave other than a clipped nod. He turned and walked away, his bare buttocks flexing with each step. She narrowed her gaze, feeling a mix of anger and incredulity. Who’s being the exhibitionist now?

Cage’s step faltered, and she wondered if she’d said it out loud. No, she was certain she hadn’t, but his reaction suggested otherwise. She shook her head, trying to clear the confusion, and began to walk towards the castle, her room, her supposed sanctuary.

Her brain was full of things she wanted to shout at him, words that would cut and sting just like his had done to her. But she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Cage was good at ignoring her, at pretending her words didn’t matter. She clenched her fists, the frustration bubbling inside her.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of shouting, but inside her head, she raged against his stubborn nobility. Stupid, sexy bear. More booty than brains, or he would know I don’t want to be free. What happened to the man who fucked me whenever, however, and wherever he chose? Willow wanted him back, the man who made her feel alive and desired.

As she reached her room, she slammed the door behind her, leaning against it for support. Her legs finally gave out, and she slid to the floor, her head in her hands. The tears came then, hot and bitter, a mix of anger and sadness. She didn’t want to be free; she wanted to be with Cage. But his actions, his words, seemed to push her away at every turn.

She wiped her tears angrily, refusing to let them fall any longer. If Cage wanted her gone, she would go. But she wouldn’t do it quietly. She would pack her things and leave, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking she was running away. No, she would walk out with her head held high, her pride intact. The last time she’d left a man who hadn’t wanted her, she’d skulked away. Not this time. Not this fucking time.

With renewed determination, Willow stood and began to gather her belongings. Each item she packed felt like a piece of her heart being torn away, but she pushed through the pain. She wouldn’t let Cage see how much he had hurt her. She wouldn’t let him win.

As she packed, her mind kept replaying the last few days, trying to make sense of his behavior. He had been distant, cold even, as if he were trying to push her away. But she had seen the way he looked at her, the way his eyes softened when he thought she wasn’t looking. There was more to this, she was sure of it. But she didn’t have the energy to figure it out, not now.

---