Chapter 145: Love

"I woke up every night unable to breathe," Magnus’s whisper scorched my ear as he drove deeper, faster, each word landing like another thrust inside me. "Thought I’d choke without you. Thought I was going mad. I dreamed of you."

He stilled.

Those silver eyes locked on mine, and something vast and raw moved behind them—something that squeezed my heart down to a single trembling point and held it there, waiting for the blow.

"I’m never letting you go again. Never."

His hand settled at my throat—not squeezing, just resting, feeling the frantic beat of my pulse beneath his fingers. Then he began to move once more. Slow. Thick. Dragging. Every inch of him was a deliberate claim, every slide of skin against skin a brand.

"Do you feel this?" he asked again. I could only nod, afraid that if I opened my mouth, the only thing that would escape would be a scream. "Do you feel how much I love you?"

Love.

The word detonated in my chest, flooding my veins with liquid fire. I reached for him desperately, nails scoring his shoulders, trying to drag him closer even though there was already no space left between us. We were one body, one ragged breath, one shared madness.

"Turn over."

He pulled free. A broken whimper tore from my throat at the sudden emptiness, but he was already flipping me onto my stomach, lifting my hips. I braced against the back of the couch as his palm slid down my spine, pressing gently, forcing a deeper arch. Shame scorched through me at the position. Magnus did nothing to ease it.

Instead, he hooked one of my legs and shifted it wider, opening me further. I burned with mortification when his fingers found the most sensitive place between my thighs—softly this time, nothing like the way he had taken me only moments before. I felt too exposed, too vulnerable. I wanted to hide my face in the crook of my arm.

He refused to allow it.

Fingers tangled in my hair at the nape, tugging my head back, forcing my spine into a sharper curve. Then he thrust home—one long, relentless stroke that seated him to the hilt.

"God..." The sound that left me was half a sob. He had never reached that deep before. Something inside me sparked and short-circuited; vision flickered, reality narrowing to the overwhelming stretch of him.

"Yes, baby," he growled, fist tightening possessively in my hair, claiming every moan, every shattered breath as his.

His pace turned harder, faster. I heard his breathing fracture, felt the first cracks in that iron control—and the knowledge that Magnus Rainn was losing himself in me made my blood boil hotter.

He folded over my back, chest flush to my spine, and dragged his tongue wetly across the mating mark on my neck. The bond flared white-hot. Pleasure surged, sharp and blinding. He moved in short, grinding thrusts now, barely withdrawing, rubbing against every trembling nerve while his teeth scraped the mark again. His breath scorched my skin like open flame.

"More..." I whispered, not even sure what I was begging for.

He knew.

He always knew.

In one powerful motion, he flipped me onto my back, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and drove into me at an angle that shattered the world. Stars exploded behind my eyes—literal, scattered constellations of white fire. Orgasm crashed through me in relentless waves. I screamed his name, loud and shameless, because holding anything back had become impossible.

"Magnus! Magnus, please—I’m— I’m going to—"

"With me." His voice was wrecked, breaking. He thrust harder, deeper, almost desperate. "Come with me. Now. I want to feel you."

His hand slipped between our bodies, fingers finding the swollen bud of my clit. One deliberate stroke was all it took.

I fell.

The orgasm crashed over me like a tsunami—shattering, reforming, shattering again. I screamed his name, spine bowing hard, and through the white haze I felt him seize above me. His thrusts turned ragged. Hot release flooded me in heavy pulses as he buried himself to the root and held.

Magnus collapsed forward, catching his weight on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush me. His breath came in harsh, uneven pulls against the mating mark on my neck.

"Jane..." The name left him like a lifeline, the only word still tethering him to the world. "Jane. Jane. Jane..."

I stroked his sweat-damp hair, and only then realized tears were sliding down my temples. Not from pain. Not from sorrow. Simply because too much lived inside me now, and it had to spill somewhere.

He lifted his head. The second he saw the tears, darkness flared in his silver eyes.

"Did I hurt you? Tell me if—"

"No." I shook my head, smiling through the wetness. "No, Magnus. I’m fine. It’s just... a lot."

He remained tense, searching my face for any trace of a lie. Finally, he nodded. Carefully, he withdrew and settled beside me on the narrow couch, pulling me flush against him. There was barely room for both of us, but I didn’t care.

Skin to skin. The bond hummed between us, and the mark on my arm burned with living heat. I lifted it and watched the scarlet, ruined-bud shape glow—identical to the one on him. A living tether binding body and soul.

Magnus caught my hand, drew it to his mouth, and pressed a slow kiss to my fingertips. The gentleness of it made my wild heartbeat stutter.

"I’m never letting you go again," he said quietly. In the hush that followed, every word landed like a vow. "Do you hear me? Never."

"I hear you."

"I lost you once. I won’t allow that mistake again. I won’t let any threat hang over our family."

Family.

The word warmed me deeper than any fire.

"And if I run?" I asked, half-teasing, though talk of the past still carried a dull ache.

A low, dark chuckle vibrated against my skin. He nipped my earlobe, sending a fresh shiver down my spine.

"I’ll find you. Even if I have to turn the entire world upside down. I’ll bring you home and spend a very long time... punishing you. Convincing you it was a terrible idea. I’ll use every filthy, ruthless method of persuasion I know. Blackmail. Imagination. All of it."

"Is that a punishment or a reward? Will it hurt?"

"Both." His voice dropped. "It won’t hurt... You’ll feel good. I need you thoroughly convinced to stay. We could even rehearse your punishment right now. You run for the door. I catch you. I make my point—right there against it."

A soft growl rolled through his chest as his hand slid down my body again, over my hip, to the still-throbbing place between my thighs. "You’re a fucking whirlpool. The more I take, the more I need."

"Matthias might wake... and the maids’ meeting—"

"Matthias’s asleep." He kissed my shoulder, my collarbone, the mark on my throat. "He’ll sleep for a while yet. We still have about an hour before the meeting. Time enough for a shower..." He squeezed his eyes shut and crushed me tighter against him. "Fuck. I want you again."