Page 26 of Tracked By Hound

“How rude of me. I should apologize.”

“You should… No,” she whines when I pull back my fingers, my hand moving to unfasten my jeans. I tug down the zipper and shove them out of the way.

“Hold on to me, baby,” I grind out, sliding my hand to her ass and lifting her against the wall. Chelsea instinctively wraps her thighs around my hips, crying out when I slam into her. My groan echoes through the room as I fill her impossibly tight pussy, stretching her with my massive cock. I’ve thought about this all week, replaying all the moments we made love and dying to have just one more night with her.

“Want you,” she cries, clawing my back. “Missed you so much.”

There are no words or voice to communicate them, so I choose to show her. My fingers tighten on her perfect ass before I start driving in and out of her pussy in fevered need. She sobs into my ear, and I soak up every pleasured sound she makes, committing it to memory. Vowing to do this for the rest of our lives.

“Mine!” I growl, the sound almost inhuman as I bury my face into her neck and rock into her, hammering my cock harder and faster into her snug sex. Kissing, biting, and licking her neck as I take her, pour myself and the desperation I’ve felt all week into her body. She takes everything, clinging to me like a lifeline.

“Hound…” She pants, her nails digging into my back as her thighs begin to tremble around my waist. “Oh God, I’m so close—”

“Come for me, kitten,” I breathe into her ear, biting her earlobe as I impale her with my cock, my moves nearly brutal, and I feel it the second it happens for her. Her breath catches in her throat before releasing in a scream. I drive my cock brutally into her until I feel the threat of my own climax. Her sex clenches around me, gripping my cock tight before releasing in pulsing waves as moisture floods between us. I grip her ass, digging my fingers into her as my own climax tears through, and I roar as I flood her womb with my hot spend, further marking her as mine. “I love you. God, I love you so much, Chelsea!” I growl as I thrust into her tightness, pouring everything into her. Taking everything she offers in return.

“I love you,” she pants into my ear, her body going pliant against mine. “I loved you from the moment I saw you.”

“It was the same for me, kitten.” I hug her close, holding us both up despite the weakness in my muscles. We’ve beenapart for way too long, even consider creating space between us. “You’re mine.” I growl, tightening my hold.

Forever this time!

Epilogue

2 years later

Chelsea

The moonlight paints the garden in shades of silver and deep shadows that remind me of my husband’s eyes.

Every rustle of leaf or quiet whistle of wind sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through me. I crouch deeper behind the hydrangea bush, careful not to make a noise. Hours. I’ve been here for two freaking hours!

Patience has never been my strong suit, but after the stolen tomatoes and broken aloe leaves, it’s become a matter of principle. For two years, this garden has been my second home. I’ve poured my heart and soul into transforming it from a desert of withering weeds to a green haven of vegetables and herbs. The Rebels know to keep out my garden, and for their restraint, I often reward them with cut stems to gift their wives and girlfriends.

However, someone has been stealing my decimating my African violets, and tonight, I’ll catch the butcher.

I’m starting to get bored when a shadow suddenly appears, passing through the small white gate. My pulse starts racing as I watch a figure carrying a basket creep toward my flower garden, quite confident in their steps. They don’t even hesitate before reaching out and pulling up one of the delicate little violetplants. I gape at the horrifying scene, more surprised by the person’s identity than what they’re doing.

How could he!

I move slightly, and pebbles shift under my shoe. The figure freezes, his head snapping up and eyes scanning the darkness. He hesitates for a second, but seemingly assured that he’s alone, he reaches for another plant.

Closer,I urge him.

Oh, he’s not getting away unscathed this time.

A few days ago, I had Hound set a trap for me. It had been our compromise when I’d wanted to go to Saint and demand an investigation. The trap is a simple string tied to a bucket of water, waiting to drench whoever dares to maim my precious blooms. With Hound away, I’ve had idle days, and what better way to spend the time than lying in wait for the plant murderer to show up. Now that he has, he’ll get a taste of his own medicine.

I snort at the pun in my own thoughts just as he reaches out, fingers brushing against the velvety green leaf of a third plant. My poor violets. He’s not just butchering them this time, he’s stealing the whole plant right out of the dirt! I hold my breath in anticipation of justice, and I am not disappointed.

Suddenly the string snaps, and the bucket crashes down. I hear a startled yelp followed by a series of curses. I watch my plant assailant brushes a hand over his wet face as he blinks into the darkness. There is a grin on my face when I finally emerge from my hiding spot.

“Gotcha!”

His head whips around, and I am met by familiar eyes, ones I’d previously thought so sweet and thoughtful. Notanymore. Clearly, he’d deceived me about his true nature. He winces when I shine a flashlight in his face, feeling a sliver of satisfaction when I find him soaked to the bone. “Chelsea—”

“I can’t believe you of all people would do this! You love the garden almost as much as I do. You’re out here almost every day reading under the tree.” Tears spring to my eyes with my words, and even I can admit I feel unreasonably betrayed.

“I’m so sorry, Chelsea. I do love the garden. It’s the perfect place to relax and unwind. But Rusty— “Atlas stammers.

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