I rise onto my toes and press a kiss to his jaw, feeling the faint rasp of his stubble against my lips. “You’re staring,” I murmur.
Tiny’s mouth lifts slightly. “I’m allowed. You’re my wife.”
My breath catches, even though it shouldn't surprise me. I said vows. I took his colors. I stood before the club and chose him. It feels real. But hearing it from him, in that deep voice that can shake walls, makes it hit differently.
“I like it,” I whisper.
Tiny’s eyes darken. “Good.”
He pulls me closer, and his mouth brushes my ear. “Because I want you, Syvannah. All damn night.”
Heat curls through me, low and slow. I tilt my head back just enough to meet his gaze. “Then take me.”
Tiny freezes. His hand tightens at my hip. “Baby,” he murmurs, his voice rough.
“I’m not scared,” I remind him, soft yet firm. “I’m not fragile. I want this.”
His pupils flare, and his breathing thickens. He leans down, kissing me deeply and slowly, claiming. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “You sure?”
My hands slide up his chest, fingers curling into his cut. I feel the patch under my fingertips. I feel him beneath it, solid, warm,and steady. “Yes. I want to finish what we started out there. I want us to go private and make it real in every way.”
Tiny exhales and kisses my temple, then my cheek, then the corner of my mouth, as if he can’t stop touching me even with a roomful of people around.
“We’re gonna slip out,” he murmurs.
I nod. “Okay.”
Tiny’s gaze sweeps the room. His expression shifts into Road Captain mode, the man who reads a room like a map and finds the safest path through chaos. His eyes catch Capone’s first. Capone nods once, already understanding.
My gaze finds Daisy and Monica. They notice the change in us immediately, their women’s intuition sharp as blades. Danyella gives me a soft smile. Daisy grins, as if proud of me. Kensi catches my eye and lifts her glass in a small salute. Nadia’s smile is gentle. Aerianna watches with approval that feels like respect rather than sentiment. Jezebelle’s gaze flicks over Tiny, as if silently warning him not to waste this gift.
I glance toward Exleigh and find her near the wall again. Her shoulders are still tight, but she’s watching the room rather than hiding from it, her eyes narrowed as if she’s fighting her demons with her teeth bared. When our gazes meet, she gives me a small nod. It is not joyful. It is not easy. It is real, and it twists my heart for her.
Tiny shifts his stance, shielding me with his body as he guides me down the back hallway. We slip through the hallway, past familiar doors, leaving the clubhouse's hum behind. Each step makes the world feel smaller, more intimate, and more intense. My skin tingles with anticipation.
Tiny’s hand stays locked in mine, his grip firm. His other hand slides down to my hip again as we reach our door.
He pauses at the threshold, turning to look at me. Tiny’s gaze lingers on my face, as if he’s savoring the sight of me. Hiseyes soften, then sharpen, then soften once more. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispers.
I step closer until my body presses against his. “I’m not something you own.”
Tiny’s throat works. “I know.’ His hand slides up my back, careful yet firm. “I mean mine, like you chose me. Like you stayed.”
I
His eyes glass over, but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t hide. “I’ve never had this,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “Not like this.”
I kiss him slowly, letting him feel every ounce of my promise. When I pull back, I rest my forehead against his. “Then let yourself have it,” I whisper. “Tonight and every night after.”
Tiny’s breath shudders. His arms lock around me, holding me like a man who has finally stopped bracing for loss. Then he lifts me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My arms wrap around his neck, and my legs tighten around his waist as he carries me into our room.
“This is our vow,” he murmurs. “Not just words.”
I brush my nose against his. “Then keep it.”
Here, in the hush, in the warm dim of our room, in the space where no one else can see us, Tiny sets me down slowly. As if he’s about to worship, not take.
His hands slide to my face again, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. His voice drops to an intimate, shaky tone. “I’m gonna love you the way you deserve,” he promises.