Being this way with him… it’s like standing up to stretch after a long, cramped drive. It’s like the first breath of fresh air after being locked in a stale room for hours. It’s sweet, unadulterated relief.

Every day without his touch has been painful.

Everett lets out a string of curses as I rock back against him, his voice low and filthy, and he’s not fucking me yet, but his grip on my hips is kinda mean. He’s nearly there. His control is hanging by a single, frayed thread.

Well, that won’t do. We didn’t go through all of that to tiptoe around each other now.

“Spank me,” I whisper, and Everett chokes out a breath before his palm cracks against my ass. Heat prickles over the skin, my pussy clenching.

Then we’re off, seat creaking, car rocking, and all I can do is hold on for dear life. It’s manic and desperate; heartfelt and raw. It’s a brutal claiming, and a declaration of love, and I’m really freaking glad Harry agreed to stay inside.

He shouldn’t see this. This thing between his uncle and me—it’s private. Elemental.

My cheeks burn hot, strands of hair sticking to my damp forehead, and I groan as Everett tilts his hips and sends sparks raining down my spine.

“You’re not leaving me,” he grinds out, one hand wrapping around my hair and tilting my head back, baring my throat as his hips slam against my ass. Desperation makes him rough. “Not after this. Say it, Josie.”

“I’m not leaving.”

It’s no hardship to agree. In truth, this man couldn’t pry me out of the Barns with a crowbar, not after claiming my heart and soul this way. Not after molding my whole freaking body to the feel of his cock. And there are still logistics to consider, there’s still a future to plan and hurt feelings to mend, but they’re just details.

Everett’s right about the important thing.

I’m not going anywhere, and neither is he.

We suffered a roadblock, but I know to the depths of my soul that I belong with this man. Just like I know that he never wanted to hurt me, and that he’ll work for the rest of his life to make sure he never does again.

I know Everett Bray. And he knows me.

“You’re mine,” he grinds out, and I’d nod if he didn’t have such a tight grip on my hair. Instead I moan, long and loud, and dig my nails into the headrest when Everett reaches around and rubs jerky circles on my clit. “You’re mine, and that’s that. I’m gonna keep you. Fuck you. Love you.”

Yes.

Don’t know why he’s saying it like a threat. As far as I’m concerned, all my Christmases have come early, and my body jerks and spasms under his onslaught, tipped over the edge by his touch and his words.

I come with a shout. With our panted breaths fogging up my car windows.

Everett bellows and slams into me, then fills my shuddering body with a hot flood. Pulse after pulse, spreading warm through my insides, and it’s freaking weird how good it feels. How right.