Page 68 of The Alpha's Runaway Mate
He closes his eyes, forehead resting against mine. “I already do,” he says, voice breaking. “It’s what I’m built for.”
I hold him tighter. I don’t care that my clothes are soaked or that my hands tremble against his skin. All I care about is him standing here, breathing, solid and real. After a while, he finally whispers, “You should go back to bed.”
I shake my head. “Not without you.”
He exhales, the sound heavy, broken. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, hard and uneven. “Jess…”
I look up at him. His eyes are softer now, the gold returning to the brown, glowing faintly under the low bathroom light. “You don’t have to hide from me,” I say quietly. “Not the truth. Not this.”
His jaw works, like he’s fighting himself. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“I’ve already seen the worst of the world,” I whisper. “You’re not it.”
Something in him cracks at that. He takes a breath, then another, and turns toward the shower. The water hits hard and cold, soaking through my shirt in seconds. I don’t move away. “I’ve got you,” I say. I grab a clean rag and the bar of soap from the ledge. I work slow. I start at his shoulders, rinsing the blood, then his arms, then the faint cuts along his knuckles. I wipecarefully so I do not reopen anything. He does not stop me. He just watches like he is checking that I am real.
“I had to make sure,” he says after a long quiet. “That you’d never have to see his face again.”
“I know.” My voice comes out small but steady. “And now I never will.”
My clothes cling heavy and wet to my body so I peel them off and drop them in the corner. I soap the rag again and follow the lines of blood I missed, down his chest and ribs, around old scars I already know by touch. When there is nothing left but pink skin and running water, I turn off the shower.
We step out together and I wrap a towel around his shoulders and another around his waist. I start drying him off, but he catches my wrist gently. “You shouldn’t have to touch this,” he murmurs.
“Let me decide what I can handle,” I say.
He nods once. Then he takes a fresh towel, sets the first aside, and turns to me. He dries me in the same way. He squeezes water from my hair with the towel and rests his palm briefly at the curve of my neck. We stand there a while without talking. The room is quiet except for the soft drip from the showerhead.
“Come on,” he says, voice low. He carries me to bed, setting me down like I’m something breakable. I’m not, but I let him treat me that way anyway. Daisy lifts her head from her spot near the dresser, gives one soft huff, then lies back down like she already knows everything’s changed.
Nolan slides in beside me, still damp, the warmth of him seeping through my clothes. I rest my head on his chest,listening to his heartbeat as it slows. For the first time in days, there’s no fear in the air, no threat creeping in through the cracks. Just quiet.
“I thought I lost you,” I whisper.
“You never will.” His hand finds the back of my neck, thumb stroking the skin there like he’s grounding himself. “You’re mine, Jess. Always.”
I tilt my head up, meeting his eyes. “I know,” I whisper. My throat tightens, the words sitting heavy on my tongue, waiting to break free. “I love you.”
For a second, he doesn’t breathe. Then his hand tightens in my hair and his voice comes out rough. “Say it again.”
“I love you,” I whisper, stronger this time. “I love you, Nolan.”
His mouth finds mine, slow and desperate all at once,it’s not about lust, but something deeper. A claim. A promise. A confession of everything we’ve both lost and everything we’ve found in each other.
When we finally pull apart, he presses his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. “You’re my whole damn world,” he murmurs.
I trace the tattoo on his chest. “Then let’s start living like it.”
He exhales, a sound that’s almost a laugh, but there’s peace in it too. “Yeah,” he says softly.
I lean down and drop a kiss on his chest then continue kissing until I get to his heart. I look up as I kiss his heart. “This is mine.”
He nods. “It is.”
I keep kissing until I get to his throat, licking, kissing, and bite down, wanting so badly to leave the kind of mark he gave me. He groans and his hard cock presses against my stomach. I kiss up to his mouth and he spears his fingers through my wet hair holding me to him tightly. He grinds his cock against me and I moan. I need this like air, like water, like everything tying me to this earth.
I never thought I’d find a man like him, one who could make me feel this protected and cherished. I sit up on my knees and reach back taking his cock in my fist. Angling him so he’s exactly where I need him, I slid down until I’m fully seated against him. God, I feel so damn full. It’s intense, it takes my breath away.
His hands grip my hips and he looks up at me with gold in his eyes. He moves my hips gripping them hard leaving bruises. I’ll gladly wear every mark he puts on me. These are marks of love and possession. These marks are a world’s difference from what Ethan did to me.
