Page 103 of Hunt Me
His thumb traces my cheekbone, gentle despite the intensity burning through his gaze.
“You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up. The last thing before I sleep.” His voice drops lower. Rougher. “You’re the chaos I choose. The only variable that ever made sense to me.”
My breath catches.
“I’ve spent my whole life in control. Everything in its place, every line optimized, every function serving a purpose.” He leans his forehead against mine, and I can feel him trembling slightly—this man who never trembles. “Then you walked into my world and shattered every pattern I’d built. Made me feel alive for the first time in years.”
“Alexi—”
“You’re not a liability.” His hands slide into my hair, anchoring me.”You’re the only thing that makes sense in all this madness.” His hands slide into my hair. “You’re my world,detka. The only equation worth spending my life on.”
Tears burn my eyes. “That’s terrifyingly poetic for a hacker.”
“I’m full of surprises.” He kisses me then, slow and deep, and it feels like a promise.
I kiss him back, pouring everything into it—the fear, the relief, the overwhelming gratitude that he’s alive and here and choosing me. He responds with equal intensity, backing me toward the bed, his hands already mapping the familiar curves of my body.
“We should sleep,” I whisper against his mouth.
“We will. Eventually.”
His lips find my neck, my collarbone, carefully avoiding the bandaged wound on my shoulder. He moves with deliberate tenderness, even as the urgency builds between us like a storm.
“Tomorrow, we face the government,” he murmurs, and I can hear the weight in his voice. “Tonight, I just want you.” He pulls back to look at me. “Just this.”
His hands remove my clothes with care—shirt over my head, jeans peeled down my legs, each touch tender despite the possession burning in his eyes. I help him out of his own clothing, needing skin against skin, needing to feel his heartbeat against mine.
“I thought I lost you,” he says, his voice breaking as he settles me back onto the bed. “When that beacon went dead?—”
“I’m here.” I pull him down to me. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. “
He positions himself between my thighs, and there’s no teasing, no game—just urgency and need and the weight of everything we’ve survived to get here.
“Mine,” he growls, the word fierce and possessive as he slides inside me. “You’re fucking mine, Iris.”
“Yes.” I arch my back, wanting him deeper. “Yes.”
His mouth claims mine. Tongue demanding entry. Hands mapping every inch of exposed skin like he’s trying to imprint it into his memory.
“Look at me.”
My eyes lock with his as he fucks me hard and rough.
“Fuck.” The curse tears from my throat. “Alexi?—”
“Feel that?” He withdraws almost completely, then slams back in. “That’s me claiming every inch of you.”
“Yes.” My nails dig into his shoulders. “Harder.”
He sets a brutal pace. Each thrust drives deeper. Harder. Demanding everything.
“You scared the shit out of me.” His hand wraps around my throat. Applying just enough pressure. “Never do that again.”
“Then keep me safe,” I breathe.
“I will.” His teeth graze my ear. “I’ll keep you safe, but I’ll also fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my name.”
My body responds, clenching around him, drawing him deeper. The angle shifts, hitting that perfect spot that makes stars bloom behind my eyes.
