I can’t believe she still loves me.

I have to pause, have to breathe, have to know.

I pull back, staring deep into those soulful brown eyes of hers.

“You love me?” I whisper.

“I love you,” she whispers back, running her hands down my arms. “My beautiful beast.”

I grin so wide, I think my face might stay that way forever. “You love me.”

She laughs, so happy. “Yes, yes, I love you. I don’t want to be anywhere but right here. This is the only place I’m supposed to be.”

I put my arms around her, holding her tight against me in a bear hug, her own arms slipping around my waist. I press my lips into the top of her head and pinch my eyes shut. A feel like a whole new dawn is rising in my chest.

Another new beginning.

Another road to go down.

“Let’s go inside,” I say to her after a moment, the December chill settling around us. “Get warm.”

Her eyes twinkle deviously at that. It’s been so long since I’ve seen that look. The reaction is pure chemistry inside my blood. I grab her hand, unlock the door and hustle her and the dogs inside.

I feel like there is no time left.

That all the time that has passed before has never happened.

The need to be inside her again, to be with her, from the inside out, is so addicting, so intoxicatingly urgent, that the moment we’re back in my flat – our flat – and the door is locked behind us, I’m hauling her to the bedroom.

I kick the door shut, throwing off my jacket, sweater, pants, undressing as if my clothes are on fire and I’m on her in seconds, my fingers fumbling along her every inch, frantically trying to get as close as possible. I want the heat of her hips pressed against mine, that silken feel of her skin, the way she perfectly holds me when I’m deep inside her, as if we were made purely to fuck each other, to love each other.

She’s shucking off her clothes too and grabbing me with frenzied hands, our mouths meeting hot and wet and so fucking desperate. I am wild to touch and she is burning under my hands, and I’m lighting her fires like an arsonist.

“Kayla, Kayla, Kayla,” I moan into her neck, tasting her. I sound so damn hungry for her it both scares me and thrills me to the bone.

We fall onto the bed and I’m climbing on top of her, pinning her between my thighs, wishing I could go slow and absorb every single carnal second, but there is no time. There will be – tomorrow. In a few hours from now, even. But right now, in this moment, where I have my love back, time is a precious thing and if I can’t have her now, I fear I never will.

She wraps her legs around me, one hand ghosting over my neck and into my hair, the other skimming down my back and we kiss again, deep and savage, our tongues sliding over each other in a wild war.

“I can’t wait,” she whispers to me and I pull back, lost in her eyes, knowing she feels just as delirious as I do. “Please, come inside me.”

I close my eyes, resting my forehead against hers and position myself between her legs, my cock thick and throbbing and hard as concrete. I push into her, slipping slick and rough until all the air leaves my lungs and it’s almost too much.

I am purified, sanctified, inside her.

“Fuck,” I growl, nipping at her neck now as I thrust in again, this time my arms are starting to shake, my body overloaded. I’m the greedy one, craving every part of her, and it’s my soul that’s just as hungry as the rest of me.

“Harder,” she pleads, her nails digging into the back of my head as I’m biting along her breasts, flicking her nipple with a stiff and merciless tongue. I roughly grab her hips and shift her up, my cock sinking in hard and deep and I’m grunting with exertion as I drive myself in again and again.

“Harder,” she cries out again, meeting my eyes, telling me she needs to feel everything.

I give her all of me.

A savage growl rips from my throat and I’m fucking, fucking, fucking her like I might die if I don’t. I’m a relentless machine, pounding her over and over and over again, then I’m leaning back down over her, my chest pressed against hers, slick with sweat, our hearts beating against each other in a rabid race, wanting so much I don’t know what to do with myself.

I bite at her collarbone, her shoulders, her chest, her nipples and she’s crying out softly, wanting more, wanting all of me. My fingers are clamped onto to her hips, a vice, and I fear I might just break her right in two.

Then it all starts to swirl together. I slip my hand along her clit, rubbing in frenzied circles that make her eyes roll back and the sounds out of her delicate throat are among the most erotic, primal ones I have ever heard.

She undoes me.

She always will.

Bloody hell.

So I go and go and until I can’t, until my savagery snaps and with one rough, final push I’m pouring into her, my hoarse shouts filling the room. We succumb to our pleasure at the same time, riding the current together, our bodies and hearts hopelessly intertwined. I empty into her and yet I’ve never felt so full.

I collapse on her with nearly my full weight, breathing so hard that the bed is still shaking and she’s gripping my back with all her might, like I’m a raft and she’ll drown if she lets go.

But I’ve got her. I do.

We hold onto each other like this for seconds, moments, minutes. We hold onto each other because we didn’t hold onto each other tight enough before. This time, this time, I know neither of us will let go.

“You know it hasn’t been proven yet,” I say, my voice thick and lazy as I brush her damp hair off her face. “But I believe I can exist on you alone. No food, no water. Just Kayla. Care you test this theory out over the next few days?”

She grins up at me and my heart beats something fierce for her. “I would love to help you with this experiment,” she says, her eyes vivid, so beautifully full of life again. “Give me another few minutes and we can try again.”

“I have a feeling this experiment might last a very long time,” I warn, smiling.

“Good,” she says, running her thumb over my lips. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

And this time I know it’s true.

This time she’s here to stay.

EPILOGUE

Nine Months Later

Kayla

Lachlan is a sweating, grunting, tireless machine. The way his limbs move in all the right ways, his muscles tightening as he dips, and lunges and plows his way through. He’s a beautiful beast to watch, the kind of effortless skill that takes your breath away. And hell, does it ever turn me on.

I can’t be the only one that thinks this. I look all around me, at the stadium of screaming spectators waving their red and black scarves and I know that at least most of the women are thinking what I’m thinking, and maybe some of the men.

It goes without saying, Lachlan McGregor is a force to be reckoned with. And boy, do I ever know it. Now more than ever. And I mean that in the best possible way.

Moving to Scotland was the best decision I’d ever made. Nine months ago I had no idea what would happen with my life, all I knew is that there was a man I loved and a man who loved me and I needed to be with him. It didn’t matter that he was wrought with demons and I was stumbling in grief and aimless except for him. I didn’t care that I was risking it all for something that might not work out. I’d risked it all before and it worked out the only way it could.

My mom once told me that my life is on the track it’s mean to be on. I think she’s completely right. My old track led me to Edinburgh with Lachlan where I fell madly in love. But life has other plans, plans that we may never understand and the track changed. It took me a moment to reroute it. It took some time to figure out what exactly I needed.

It was Lachlan all along.

A lot has changed in nine months. Lachlan has remained sober the whole time, though it’s something neither of us take for granted. I know it’s something that will never leave him completely. He has good days and bad days and on the bad days we go for long walks and I make him talk to me until we can figure out a way through it. We’re in this together now and I make sure he knows that he doesn’t have to face any of it alone.