His thumb moved along her jaw. He doubted if there was a man alive who could hear his woman ask for that and turn her down. “We have to be careful of your bruises, Cayenne.”

“I need this more than I need to worry about a few bruises. Take me home, Trap.”

CHAPTER 18

Trap took his time examining every inch of Cayenne’s body. She lay sprawled out beneath him like a gift. A feast. A treasure beyond all price. Her hands stroked through his hair, fingers sifting, rubbing along his scalp as he kissed his way along her collarbone and down to the dark bruises marring the lush curve of her breasts.

“Baby, we’re getting married right away. I don’t want an argument about it either. Flame sent the papers. Gator’s bringing her with him. They missed Wyatt’s wedding because Gator was out of the country. Flame’s been anxious to meet her three nieces, so our wedding will be the perfect opportunity.”

She smiled, looking serene. Her hands communicating love right through the strands of his hair. “You were in touch with them, planning our wedding even before you talked to me?”

He nuzzled the valley between her breasts gently. She drew in her breath sharply. He licked along the dark bruises tenderly, wishing he could heal her with his mouth. With his love. “They were in touch with Wyatt, and he told me earlier. They gave him the information that your background was complete and any reporter looking into you would believe the history they created for you. Wyatt knows I mean business. I’m not waiting to make you mine. Tomorrow I leak the news to the magazines and papers. I want to send a photograph of the two of us together as well.”

“You’re daring your uncles to come out in the open.”

Again, her voice was matter-of-fact. Giving him everything. This time he wasn’t fooled. She would give him everything because she liked to please him. She wanted him happy. But the moment she felt she needed to do something he wouldn’t like, Trap was well aware his woman was going to do it. She made that plain enough. He couldn’t have everything his way.

He licked up the side of her breast. He couldn’t suckle the way he wanted to. She was far too battered, so he contented himself with kissing every inch of the deep bruise that spanned both breasts and under them. It wasn’t enough. He had to feel for himself that every inch of her was unharmed.

He took his time on her arms, using the pads of his fingers to run lightly over the undersides while his mouth inspected above. He found a series of small bruises up high on her biceps and knew Nonny had tried to catch her as she flew backward when the bullet struck. His gut clenched all over again. Knots tightened until they were hard and threatening to snap into pieces.

His teeth nipped her wrist in punishment. His tongue soothed. The small chastisement wasn’t enough to rid him of the moment in his mind. He knew it was burned there. That single moment when he was certain she’d been taken from him. He kissed his way back up her arm to her shoulder.

Trap pressed his mouth against her vulnerable neck. “You don’t get shot again. Not.” He bit that sweet spot between her shoulder and neck. Hard. She made a single sound of protest, but she didn’t move. She didn’t try to stop him. He licked at the mark and then suckled, leaving his brand on her. “Ever.” He switched sides, his tongue gliding over her nipples, the gentlest of licks. Heart pounding. Blood roaring a protest in his ears. His lips moved against that same spot on her left shoulder. “Again.” He whispered it softly and then bit down again. Soothed with his tongue. Suckled until his brand was there.

He kissed his way to her ribs. “Do you understand me, Cayenne? You don’t get shot again. Next time I’m not going to be nice about it.”

“Honey.”

She breathed the endearment, and he thought he might shatter into pieces. She didn’t do that. She rarely called him anything but Trap. She hadn’t moved her hands from the sheets. She kept giving to him. Showing him how she felt.

“Say it, Cayenne.”

“I won’t get shot again.”

He caught that soft silky skin between his teeth along her left side and nipped. “Say it and fucking mean it, baby. Don’t try to placate me.”

“I want to give you anything you need, Trap, but how can I promise that? I’ll do my best to never get shot again. You have my word on that.”

His hands moved to her waist, holding her for a moment. Just holding her. His hands were big and he could almost span her waist. He took a breath and let the knots in his gut ease. Just a little.

“You stay close to me. When we’re out of this house, you’re right next to me.”

“I want to be next to you. I need to know you’re alive and well too, Trap,” she assured softly, and then, being Cayenne gave him more. “I’m not planning on letting you out of my sight for a long while.”

The knots disappeared and he could breathe easy again. The roaring in his head dissipated. He was extraordinarily gentle with her. He kissed each rib, tracing the indentations with his tongue. She squirmed. Her hips lifted, pushing into him suggestively.

“Not a chance, baby. You were nearly killed. I felt that jolt to your heart. I felt it. The flash of pain. For one moment I thought you were gone. It was the longest, most agonizing moment of my life. Even then I had to wait for a report on how bad it was. So I get this. I get to take my time and inspect every inch of you.”

There was heat in his voice. Command. Demand. He didn’t give a flying fuck either whether or not she wanted this different. He’d give her different another time. This was his time. His need. It wasn’t about lust or hunger. It was a need so deep, so elemental and primal, he couldn’t even explain it to her.

She stilled, but the hands in his hair clenched tighter. “After you get what you need, Trap, you have to give me the chance to do the same.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” he assured, nuzzling her belly button. He licked along her soft belly and rimmed the little button before dipping his head lower to trace each hip bone. She shivered in response, but held herself still. “I want your mouth on me. I even need it, but not yet. I’ll be careful of your thigh, but the rest of you is in working order, and I’m going to make certain I spend time claiming what’s mine.”

She was shot twice. Her heart had suffered a terrible jolt and she had massive bruises, but in spite of all that, it was clear her body had superior healing ability. He could see that, although she was sore, she wasn’t really hurting that bad. Already her body had tried to heal itself. That ability shocked him.