Page 121 of Undisputed Chaos
When I finally let her breathe, she looked dazed, exactly how I liked her.
"Fuck yes, it's okay," I growled, unable to keep the possessive satisfaction from my voice. "I want everyone to know you're mine."
The thought of her claiming me publicly, of her followers seeing her with me, sent a thrill of ownership through my veins. "Noah's going to fucking hate it."
"This isn't about him,” she protested, though the flush on her cheeks told me she'd thought about that too.
The blush spread down her neck, disappearing beneath the neckline of her dress, and I imagined tracing its path with my tongue.
"Of course not," I agreed, not believing it for a second. "It's about staking your claim on the soon-to-be winner.” I winked, enjoying the way she rolled her eyes at my confidence.
"You haven't wonyet," she reminded me, turning back to her painting.
The canvas was coming alive now, swirls of color taking shape. There was violence in those brushstrokes, passion in the way the colors clashed and merged.
I grinned, wild and certain. "It's already decided, angel. Poor bastard just doesn't know it yet."
Rising to my feet, I pulled her up with me, lifting her easily until her face was level with mine.
Her weight was nothing in my arms, her body so perfect compared to mine that it awakened every protective instinct I possessed.
And other, darker instincts too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Adrian
The midday sun gleamed off the sleek white jet waiting on the private airstrip, its engines humming low and expensive, impatient as a caged beast.
I kept one arm draped over Isla’s shoulders, half because the sunlight made her hair glow, half because if I didn’t keep some part of me anchored to her, I was liable to snatch her up and cart her right back to my bed like a dragon clutching treasure.
"That's all yours?" she asked, staring up at the jet with open awe, the breeze blowing fine gold strands across her cheek.
"Technically, it’s all of ours,” I admitted, tucking the wayward strands behind her ear, unable to resist touching her even for a moment.
"But we share custody. I get it on weekends and holidays, duh.”
Isla grinned, her body melting into my side, like a perfect fit. Sunlight and soft things made up my girl.
She wore a pale sundress that matched her eyes, the ribbon I'd given her circling her throat like a promise.
Against the backdrop of the airstrip's industrial grays, she looked like something plucked from a dream—too soft, too perfect to be real.
"There they are," I nodded toward the black Audi pulling up beside us, Connor at the wheel with Sierra in the passenger seat.
Behind them, Jax's Bentley rolled to a stop, gleaming gold in the morning light because, of course, the pretentious fucker had it custom-painted to match his brand.
Isla watched the unfolding scene with a gentle amusement, as if knowing she belonged, playfully tucking close.
“Stick by me, angel. Play nice and I’ll let you pick your seat on the jet.”
“Oh, what an extraordinary privilege, Mr. Adrian,” she replied, tipping her chin up as if she wasn’t about to giggle. God, she was cute.
“Remember what I said?” I asked, dropping my head to skim my lips over her hair.
“Don’t wander off, trust only the guys and the security women, and stay within hunting distance at all times.”
She recited it in a way that managed to sound both obedient and delighted.
