Chapter 88 Chapter 88
Chapter 88
Nina’s POV
The SUV fishtailed hard around the last curve of the driveway, snow spraying up in white rooster tails behind us. My whole body still throbbed from the burns, every inch of skin screaming where the hot water had cooked me raw. Dante’s coat was wrapped around me like a blanket, but it did nothing to stop the cold night air that slapped my face when Enzo slammed on the brakes. The chopper’s rotors thumped louder overhead, a deep mechanical heartbeat cutting through the distant growl of Sabina’s incoming army.
“Ropes coming down!” Nikolai shouted from the front seat, his fingers flying over the tablet in his lap like he could hack the whole damn world if it bought us ten more seconds.
Enzo twisted in his seat, eyes wild. “You heard the man, Dante. Get her up there. We’ll cover from the ground.”
Dante didn’t waste words. He kicked the back door open, cold wind howling in like it wanted to rip us apart. Snow stung my face, mixing with the tears I hadn’t realized were still falling. My legs felt like jelly, but I clung to him anyway, arms locked around his neck, thighs squeezing his waist the way he’d told me. The flash drive dug into my palm between our bodies, a tiny hard reminder that none of this was over.
“Wrap your legs tighter, kitten,” Dante growled against my ear, voice low and rough like gravel. “Don’t let go no matter what.”
I did. My bare thighs pressed against his hips, the rough fabric of his tactical pants scraping my scalded skin. God, he was solid. Every muscle in his chest and stomach felt carved from stone under the vest, warm and unyielding. I could feel the hard line of him lower down too, pressed right between my legs where the coat had fallen open. Adrenaline or something darker had him half-hard already, thick and insistent against my core. Heat pooled low in my belly despite everything—the burns, the gun in my hands earlier, the girl bleeding out on the floor. My body was a traitor, slick and aching even as my mind screamed that we were about to die.
The rope dropped from the chopper hovering twenty feet above us, black and thick, swaying in the wind like a lifeline from hell. Dante grabbed it with one gloved hand, the other arm banded around my back like iron. “Hold on,” he said, and then we were rising.
The world tilted. The SUV shrank below us as the winch pulled us up fast. Wind whipped my hair across my face, freezing the sweat on my neck. Bullets cracked from the tree line—Sabina’s first wave had caught up. One pinged off the chopper’s skid with a metallic whine. Enzo’s submachine gun answered from the ground, bright muzzle flashes lighting the snow. Nikolai was still in the passenger seat, tablet glowing, muttering curses as he tried to jam their vehicles.
Dante’s body was a furnace against mine. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in gun oil, sweat, and that faint cedar scent that always clung to him. His heart hammered steady under my cheek. Every shift of his hips as we swung in the air made his hardness grind against me through the thin barrier of his pants. My nipples tightened against his vest, sensitive and raw from the burns. I hated how good it felt. How safe. How desperately I wanted to rock against him right there, dangling thirty feet above the ground while the world tried to kill us.
“Almost there,” he muttered, voice vibrating through his chest. “Just a little higher.”
The rope jerked. My stomach flipped. I looked down and wished I hadn’t. The black SUVs were closing in fast, headlights cutting through the dark like predator eyes. Sabina’s men leaned out windows, rifles aimed up. Another burst of gunfire stitched the snow below us. Enzo swerved the SUV to draw fire, tires spinning, but he kept shooting back, tireless, like the exhaustion didn’t touch him.
Nikolai’s voice crackled over the walkie. “Rope’s holding, but they’re hitting the winch housing. Dante, get her inside now!”
We were ten feet from the open chopper door. The pilot’s face was a pale blur behind the glass. I could see the metal edge, the safety straps dangling inside. Dante’s arm tightened around me, muscles bulging as he climbed hand over hand, pulling us both up with raw strength. His cock pressed harder against me with every pull, thick and hot, and I bit my lip to keep from moaning. The friction was insane. My thighs trembled around his waist, not just from cold or fear. Part of me wanted to grind down, to lose myself in the feel of him while bullets flew and the wind howled.
The rope groaned.
A sharp metallic ping sounded above us. The fibers started to fray—visible strands snapping one by one, whipping in the wind like broken guitar strings. Dante froze mid-reach.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
The winch screamed in protest. The chopper dipped, trying to compensate. Below, Sabina’s reinforcements opened up with everything they had. Rounds chewed through the snow, sparking off the SUV. Enzo roared something furious and kept firing, tireless, his arm bleeding fresh from the earlier graze. Nikolai had abandoned the tablet and was out the window now, pistol cracking shot after shot, face set in that quiet, deadly focus.
The rope gave another violent jerk.
“Hold tighter!” Dante shouted. His free hand gripped the fraying line harder, knuckles white. I locked my ankles behind his back, thighs burning, every inch of me pressed flush to him. His hardness throbbed against my bare pussy now, the coat flapping open in the wind. I was dripping, shame and need twisting together while death swung below us. His breath was hot on my temple. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got—”
The rope snapped.
It didn’t unravel slow. It tore with a sickening crack, like bone breaking. One second we were rising toward the chopper door. The next we were falling.
Free fall.
The wind roared in my ears, a freight train of cold that stole my scream. Snow rushed up to meet us, white and unforgiving. Dante’s arms clamped around me like a vice, twisting mid-air so his body was under mine, taking the impact first. His coat flapped around us both, useless. I felt every hard plane of him—chest, abs, the thick ridge of his cock still pressed between my thighs even now, like his body refused to let go of me in the face of death.
We tumbled. The ground spun closer. Trees blurred. I caught one last glimpse of the chopper banking hard, Nikolai leaning out with a rope in his hands, face twisted in horror. Enzo’s SUV skidded to a stop below, doors flying open as he sprinted toward our landing spot, screaming our names.
No parachute.
No net.
Just snow and trees and the sickening certainty that this was it.
Dante’s voice cut through the wind, low and fierce in my ear. “I’ve got you. Wrap tighter. If we hit, roll with me.”
My heart slammed against his. The burns on my skin screamed as cold air tore over them. His body heat was the only thing keeping me from blacking out. I felt him hard and ready between my legs, adrenaline turning terror into something feral and alive. I wanted him. Right here, falling to our deaths, I wanted to sink down on him and forget everything.
The ground was twenty feet away.
Fifteen.
Ten.
I buried my face in his neck and held on like he was the only real thing left in the world.
The snow rushed up, white and endless.
And we hit.