Chapter 9: Claiming What's Mine

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The penthouse was quiet. The only sound in the room was the low hum of the city below, a distant reminder of the world outside. Travis stood by the window, staring out at the skyline, lost in thought. His conversation with Patrick and Brittany had stuck with him all day. He knew what he needed to do—what he wanted to do—but the idea of laying everything out in front of Taylor, with no walls, no barriers, still made him uneasy.

Taylor's footsteps broke his thoughts. He turned as she entered the room, her presence lighting up the space. She had a softness about her tonight, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her face fresh and radiant. The sight of her hit him like a punch to the chest. She was his, and she didn't even know how deeply she had already burrowed into his soul.

"Hey," she said softly, her eyes meeting his as she crossed the room. "You've been quiet today."

Travis gave her a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He knew this talk couldn't wait any longer. He walked toward her, gently taking her hand in his, guiding her to the couch. His large frame towered over hers, but as they sat down, side by side, she didn't feel small. She felt safe.

"I've been thinking about us," he began, his voice steady but low. "About everything that's happened."

Taylor's brows furrowed in concern. "Are you having second thoughts?" Her voice was soft but laced with worry.

"No," Travis said quickly, shaking his head. "It's the opposite. I'm all in with you, Taylor. But my world... it's dangerous. I've done everything I can to protect you, but being with me means you're always going to be in the line of fire."

Taylor tilted her head, her eyes searching his. "I already know that, Travis. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know you say that now, Angel," he murmured, the new nickname slipping from his lips with ease, "but there's more. I've been thinking about us... about what we could have."

The way he said "Angel" sent a shiver down Taylor's spine, and the intensity in his gaze made her heart race. She leaned closer to him, her hand resting on his arm. "What do you mean?"

Travis hesitated, then continued, his voice a bit rougher, more vulnerable. "I want more than this, Taylor. I want us to be together for real. I want you to move in with me. I want a life with you." His eyes darkened slightly as his voice dropped. "Hell, I want everything with you—a future, maybe even a family."

Taylor's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected him to be so open, so raw. Moving in together? A family? Her heart fluttered at the thought. "You really mean that?" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"I've never been more sure of anything," Travis replied, his hand sliding up her arm, his touch sending warmth through her body. "But I need to know if you're ready for that. It's not just me you'd be committing to—it's this life. The mafia, the danger, all of it."

Taylor's pulse quickened, but not from fear. She looked into his eyes, seeing the man behind the mafia boss—the one who had let her in, who trusted her, who was trying to offer her everything he had. And she wanted it all. She wanted him.

"I'm ready," she said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. "I've never been more sure of anything either."

Travis's gaze locked on hers, a fire igniting behind his eyes. He pulled her closer, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. "You're my Angel, Taylor," he whispered, the nickname sending a thrill through her. "I don't deserve you, but I'm going to take care of you. You're mine."

She couldn't breathe for a moment, the intensity of his words overwhelming her. But instead of responding with words, Taylor leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was soft at first, but quickly deepened. The heat between them flared instantly, as if all the tension from their conversation had ignited something primal.

Travis groaned low in his throat as he pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling him. His hands roamed over her body, possessive and eager, as if he couldn't get enough of her. "Kitten," he murmured against her lips, his new pet name slipping out, "you drive me crazy."

Taylor's heart raced at the sound of his voice, husky and raw. She loved the way he called her "Angel," but something about "Kitten" had a whole different edge to it—playful, yet filled with desire.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as she kissed him harder, her body pressing against his, craving more. Travis's hands slid under her shirt, his touch setting her skin on fire. He pulled it over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside without breaking the kiss. His hands roamed her bare skin, his touch making her shiver.

"Travis..." she gasped as his lips moved to her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. Her body arched against him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the heat between them became unbearable.

"I'm not letting you go," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Ever."

Taylor moaned softly as his hands moved to the button of her jeans, unfastening them with expert precision. She shifted in his lap, helping him slide them off, her breath quickening with anticipation. His eyes darkened as he took her in, his hands tracing the curve of her hips before pulling her flush against him.

Travis's lips were back on hers in an instant, his kiss demanding, almost desperate. His hands explored every inch of her, and Taylor couldn't hold back the small whimpers escaping her lips as he touched her in all the right places.

"Kitten," he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper, "I need you."

Taylor's heart pounded in her chest as she felt the full weight of his desire. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. "Then take me."

That was all the permission Travis needed. He stood, lifting her effortlessly in his arms, and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, his eyes roaming over her body with a hunger that made her pulse race.

He stripped off his shirt, revealing the hard lines of his chest, the tattoos that marked him as a man who had lived a life in the shadows. But Taylor didn't see the danger or the darkness. All she saw was the man she wanted—the man who made her feel alive.

Travis joined her on the bed, his lips finding hers once again as their bodies pressed together. His touch was everywhere—possessive, consuming, yet tender in a way that only Travis could be. He made her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, and in that moment, she believed it.

Time blurred as they lost themselves in each other, their bodies moving in sync, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. Travis whispered her new nickname over and over again—Kitten, Angel—his voice thick with emotion as he claimed her completely, body and soul.

And when it was over, when they lay together in the aftermath, their bodies tangled and their breaths slowing, Travis held her close, his hand brushing through her hair.

"I meant it," he whispered, his lips against her forehead. "I want everything with you. A life, a home, maybe even kids. Whatever you want, Kitten, it's yours."

Taylor smiled against his chest, her heart full. "I want it too, Travis," she whispered back. "All of it."

And as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, for the first time, Travis allowed himself to believe in a future—a future with her, his Angel, his Kitten.

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