Chapter 153 Claiming the Bond
Wynter's POV
"Never," he promised, helping me push his shirt off. "I'll never stop choosing you, Wynter. This is real. We're real."
We moved to the bed in a tangle of limbs and discarded clothing. When Chase settled between my thighs, the head of his cock nudging my entrance, he paused.
"Look at me," he said quietly.
I met his eyes, and what I saw there—love, desire, absolute certainty—made my breath catch.
"I'm here," he said, his hand wiping away my tears. "I'm right here, Wynter. And I'm not going anywhere. This isn't the Bond forcing me to stay. This is me, choosing you. Every single day. For the rest of my life."
Then he pushed forward in one smooth thrust, filling me completely. The sudden fullness made me gasp, but it was more than just physical sensation. It was connection, confirmation, proof that we were real.
"Fuck," Chase groaned, buried to the hilt. "You feel so good. So right."
He started to move, and I clung to him, my legs wrapping around his waist, my hands gripping his shoulders. Each thrust felt like an anchor, grounding me, reminding me that this—us—was real.
"Tell me what you need," Chase panted, his mouth finding my neck.
"Just you," I gasped. "Just this. Just us."
He adjusted the angle, hooking my leg over his shoulder, and suddenly he was hitting that perfect spot inside me.
"Fuck! Yes!" I cried out. "Right there—don't stop—"
"Never," Chase promised, his pace increasing. "I'll never stop. I'll never leave you. You're mine, Wynter. Not because I have to claim you—because I want to. Because I choose to. Every single day."
The possessiveness in his voice, the absolute certainty—it was exactly what I needed to hear. "Yours," I gasped. "I'm yours—"
"And I'm yours," Chase said fiercely. "By choice. By love. Not just by fate."
But I needed more. Needed something that would quiet the last whispers of doubt.
"Chase," I panted. "Wait—I want—can we change positions?"
He pulled out immediately. "What do you need, baby?"
"Turn over," I said, already moving. "I want you from behind."
I flipped onto my stomach, then pushed up onto hands and knees. The position felt vulnerable, exposed—and that was exactly what I needed.
"Fuck," Chase groaned behind me, hands immediately going to my hips. "You look so good like this."
He positioned himself and pushed in. The angle was completely different—deeper, more intense. I dropped to my forearms, pushing back against him.
"Jesus Christ," Chase groaned. "You're so tight like this."
He started moving, and this angle let him hit even deeper. I could feel him everywhere, filling every empty space, leaving no room for doubt or fear.
"Harder," I gasped, needing the intensity. "Chase, harder—I can take it—"
He obliged, hips snapping forward with real force. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.
"That's it," Chase growled, one hand sliding up my spine to grip my shoulder. "Take it all. Take everything I have."
"Oh God," I moaned. "Yes—right there—don't stop—"
"Never," Chase promised again, his voice rough. "This is my choice, Wynter. You're my choice. Not the Bond's—mine."
His words chipped away at the fear, replaced it with something warmer, more solid.
"Spread your legs wider," Chase commanded. "I want to go deeper."
I obeyed, and the change in position let him sink even deeper.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned. "You're taking me so deep now. Can you feel it? This isn't just biology, baby. This is us. This is real."
"Yes," I gasped. "God, yes—"
His hand reached around to cup my breast, fingers finding my nipple. The dual stimulation made my whole body tremble.
"Touch yourself," Chase commanded. "I want to feel you come around my cock. I want you to come knowing that I chose this. That I chose you."
I slid one hand down my body, fingers finding my clit. The added stimulation made my inner walls clench around him.
"Show me where," he demanded, his hand covering mine. "Show me exactly where you need me."
I guided his fingers, and when he found the perfect spot, I felt the last of my control start to slip.
"Like this?" he asked.
"Yes," I moaned. "Perfect—don't change anything—"
"You're getting tighter," he observed, his other hand tangling in my hair. "You're close, aren't you?"
"So close," I gasped.
He pulled gently on my hair. "Not yet," he growled. "Hold it. Stay with me."
"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Chase—"
"Tell me," he demanded. "Tell me what you need to hear."
"Tell me this is real," I sobbed. "Tell me you're choosing me—not because you have to, but because you want to—"
"I'm choosing you," Chase said immediately, his voice fierce and certain. "Every single day, I choose you. Not because the Bond forces me to. Not because fate decided for me. But because you're the only person I want. The only person I'll ever want. This is my choice, Wynter. You're my choice."
"Promise," I gasped, my whole body trembling.
"I promise," he said, and I felt the truth of it through the Bond—absolute, unshakeable. "I swear on everything I am. I'm choosing you. Now and always. Not fate's choice—mine."
"Then let me come," I begged. "Please—I need—"
"Then come," he commanded. "Come for me. Come knowing that this is real. That we're real. That I choose you, every single day, for the rest of my life."
The permission, combined with his words, his certainty, his love—it shattered me. My orgasm detonated through me like a bomb, white-hot pleasure exploding from my core outward in waves.
"Fuck!" I screamed into the sheets. "Chase—oh God—"
"That's it," he groaned. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight—"
His own release followed moments later, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside me. And through it all, I felt him—solid, real, mine by choice.
"Wynter," he groaned, collapsing forward carefully. "God, baby—"
We stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard, bodies still connected. And slowly, gradually, the fear that had been eating me alive began to recede, replaced by the simple, solid truth of his words.
I choose you.
Not the Bond. Him. Chase. Choosing me, every single day.
Finally, he pulled out gently. He rolled onto his back, pulling me with him so I sprawled across his chest.
The room smelled of sex and us. I could feel the cooling dampness between my thighs, the pleasant ache in my muscles.
Chase's hand traced lazy patterns down my spine. His other hand tangled in my hair.
"That was incredible," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my head.
"Mmm," I agreed, too content to form words.
We lay in silence for several minutes. I listened to his heartbeat, felt the rise and fall of his chest. Through the Bond, I could feel his satisfaction, his love—but more than that, I could feel his choice.
"I can feel you thinking," Chase said softly.
I shifted slightly, propping myself up on his chest. My hand moved to his face.
"I was just thinking about how lucky I am," I said softly.
He frowned slightly. "Lucky?"
"That you chose me," I clarified. "Not just that the Bond brought us together—but that you, Chase Sterling, chose to love me. That's not fate. That's not biology. That's you."
His expression softened, and he pulled me back down against his chest, arms tightening.
"I'm the lucky one," he murmured. "The Bond gave me the chance to find you. But loving you? Wynter, that's the easiest choice I've ever made."
I felt his certainty through the Bond, and I let it soothe the last lingering fears.
"Now sleep," he said. "We'll figure out how to help Rosalie tomorrow. Tonight, just let me hold you."