Chapter 26
CROC

She was in my lap, her little breaths sharp and quick, grinding herself against me. Each time she did, I throbbed, and I wanted to grab her. I wanted to rip every ounce of cloth from her skin and give her what she was searching for. I wanted to see her eyes widen as I filled her up, hear her cry out each time I moved.

The rope unraveled a fraction, finally worn too thin, but the chain was thick, and I knew I'd never be able to break past it.

"I thought a person couldn't take a body," she whispered, throwing my words back at me.

Couldn't she see she was torturing me? My insides boiled at the chains, at my inability to act. "I can give it." I tugged at the rope again, working it left to right as the frayed threads cut into my flesh. "I want to give it to you. All of it." And I would. I would sink so deep into her body she wouldn't know where I ended and she began. I'd mark her as mine, make it so she'd never doubt my feelings again. "Untie me, and I'll show you."

"I don't think you'd be telling me that if you were yourself right now." Her pace increased, movements deepened. She ground her body tight against mine, back bowed and nails digging into my shoulders, unaware that her words had been like a dagger to my heart.

I watched her, small and precious, delicate. She had no idea what she was asking for. She wouldn't want this, and all my imaginings suddenly seemed cruel and sick. I was a monster. "Willow?"

She paused and drew back to meet my gaze.

I ground my teeth against the words I needed to say. They wouldn't come. The animal I was didn't care if she was hurt. He didn't care if she never looked at him the same way again. That wasn't his concern. "You should go," I ground out.

Her lips parted. "You want me to go?"

No. The rage grew hotter, more insistent. If she walked away then, I'd live in hell for the remainder of the season, replaying the feel of her grinding against me, wanting me, begging me. I'd fight and claw and kick until I passed out from exhaustion, then I'd wake to live another day full of regret. But none of that mattered. She mattered. I couldn't lose her. "I want you to be safe, and you're right. I did this for a reason." The words tasted foul. "Go back to the house, and I'll be back once this is over."

Her scent soured. I'd upset her, but it was nothing compared to how she'd see me if I allowed myself to...

"How long is that," she snapped.

"Another month." I shut my eyes, and bit down hard on my tongue. Despite my desire to protect her, the other part of myself continued to desperately work the rope, fighting to break free and stop me before it was too late. "You need to go. Now."

"I don't want to go," she said.

My stomach clenched, muscles pulsed. If she knew the images I had as she said that, she wouldn't be so eager to stay. The rope loosened, and I almost gave in. She wanted to stay. She wanted this. No. She didn't understand. She didn't know what she was asking for. "Willow," I warned. "I've almost got my wrists loose."

She sucked in a breath, and bit her lip. "That's exciting."

I groaned. She needed to hear me. She needed to listen. "You don't want me like this. My control is slipping, and I won't be gentle. I won't be." I paused, hating myself even more for not being what she needed. "I won't be a man."

The soft skin of her palm ran over my cheek, then up into my hair, over my neck. I held my breath and fought against the urge to tug at the rope. I'd snap it. I'd free my hands and she wouldn't get away. I wouldn't let her go. I'd take her right there. Chained and all.

"I've never liked men, Croc," she whispered, too gentle for the violence building up inside me. "But I love you."

I froze as her words washed over me, warm and inviting, permissive, accepting. Control fled. I gave up. A weak man was no match against my true nature. I couldn't save her. Not from myself. "Say it again," I growled.

"I love you." She kissed my shoulder and rocked her hips again.

I held my breath, clenched my jaw, fisted my hands, and felt the moment I lost the battle. The rope snapped. She was mine.

She gasped as my arms circled her, gripping and pulling and tearing at her clothes. I held her with one arm, locked in place as I unwrapped her skin. She was mine. My female. Her scent was sweet, heavy with arousal, and I throbbed harder with the need to feel her.

I gripped the center of the thick covering she wore under her shirt and jerked, breaking the clasp and tossing it aside. Her skin was paler there, creamy and silver, reflecting the moonlight. I tasted the skin of each breast, and her scent made my manhood push harder against my jeans. I gripped and bit at her flesh, relishing each small sound I earned in return.

The fear never came. I'd expected it, almost needed it to force me to stop. Instead, her desire stole my breath, heady and thick. Her fingers curled into my hair and yanked me closer.

I groaned and trailed my palms down her sides to find the last barrier between us. I jerked at her waistband, needing it gone more than I needed air.

Willow drew back and threw her hands over mine. "Wait."

I froze, fingers clamped, muscles twitching with the desire to continue.

"I don't want to walk back completely naked," she breathed. "Just let me take them off."

She wanted me to let her go, and I didn't think I could do that, not anymore.

"Croc..." She cupped my cheek. Her eyes were so soft, just like the rest of her, and it calmed me. I could have sunk into them, floated for an eternity, and never needed to return to the canal again. "I want this. I won't leave."

It took all my effort to release her, and I had to grip my thighs to keep from pulling her back.

She stood and stepped back to where my feet lay, and I stared. Her hair hung loose, heavy and dark against the pale skin of her chest. She was liquid moonlight, shimmering silver, and the delicate curves of her body reminded me of the water. When she didn't remove her jeans but instead circled around me, I panicked. "Willow," I growled, jerking once again at the chains.

"Wait," she whispered, tone soothing. "I'm going to unchain you."

I froze. Tell her to stop, my mind shouted. Tell her to leave you. But I didn't say it—couldn't say it. The chains wiggled and loosened one by one, and my control went with them. There was nothing stopping me now. Nothing to stop this. As soon as they fell around my lap, I reached forward, snapped the rope that bound my ankles and jumped to my feet.

I turned to find her completely bare, soft, and delicate, perfect. I sucked in a breath that shuddered in my chest, then stiffened as she walked forward and reached down to undo my jeans.

"I don't like you tied up," she whispered. Her eyes held mine, never leaving me as her soft hand reached inside and curled around my length.

I groaned and startled her as I dropped down, captured her thighs, and pinned her firmly against the tree.

She cried out and clung to my shoulders, and I swallowed the sound into my mouth, kissing her hard, moving my hips, finding the place where my body could fit into hers and slowly pressing forward.

She stiffened, and I broke away to watch her face. Her eyes widened. I wanted to see that. I wanted to watch her and remember every detail. I pushed again, another inch, then paused and studied the part of her lips, the tilt of her head as she arched her spine and offered herself to me.

My breath hissed as I fought for control, but she was so warm, so perfect, and the rest of the world faded away. My focus centered to only her. I pushed again, then groaned as she met my movement, rolling herself down to take all of me into her.

I pressed her tighter against the tree and held her still as the sensation washed over me. Her scent clouded my senses. Her hands gently caressed my arms, like water rushing over my skin or a cool breeze when the swamp grew too hot to bear. She was the feeling of waking up, knowing I wasn't alone. She was the nights I fell asleep, remembering the day I'd had with her. She was the feeling I had when I was a boy, and Pappy was still around to tuck me in. She was peace. She was comfort. She was home.

I rocked again, long and slow, and those soft hands curled and gripped. She whimpered, and my heart thundered, blood raced. "Is this okay?" I asked, but my words echoed none of the care I was fighting to take. I wanted to let go, forget my name and lose myself in hers.

She nuzzled my neck and answered me with her hips, rolling her spine. My knees buckled, and I caught myself by one hand against the tree. My breaths grew harsh, audible, and I couldn't move. Not when she did that. Not when she clung to me, hands on my shoulders, elbows on my chest, legs locked and body grinding to create the sweetest friction. Her mewling cries into my ear were almost too much. I grunted and groaned, sounding almost pained as I gripped the tree harder and crashed through each wave she created.

Then I felt her, just like I had that night on the roof. The smell of her sex grew stronger, her movements more eager, and the building pressure made her body clench tighter around mine.

I pinned her tighter to the tree, stopping her movements.

She whimpered. "Croc."

"No." I wanted to give her that. I wanted her to come apart because of me. I wanted to feel her crumble and pulse and know that I was the cause of it.

I drew back and thrust hard, relishing the cry she gave, floating in the euphoria of knowing she was mine, we were connected, and she wanted me just as desperately as I did her. I gave her all of it, the good and the bad, the man and the monster. I squeezed her hips and lifted her higher, then watched her face morph, her eyes squeeze shut, her lips part around my name as she repeated it over and over. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and I forgot to think. There were no rules.

I was a hunter, unchained, unhindered. She'd slipped away a hundred times, and now I'd finally caught her. I relished the feeling, driving harder, taking until my body soared, and my focus narrowed. Her slick heat, her harsh breaths, her soft skin, her small cries. I nuzzled into her, kissing and tasting and sliding and whispering soft praise and gratitude against her skin.

She was the greatest thing to ever happen to me, and I knew, no matter what happened, I wasn't going to let her go.