He held her head close to his chest, his fingers buried in her hair. She laced her arms around his waist, her palms smoothing his muscled back.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“What?”

He grasped her hair just hard enough to tip her head back until he caught her gaze with his.

“This,” he said before kissing her gently.

“I don’t want to hurt your lip,” she whispered.

“I don’t care.”

He kissed her again, harder this time. She felt the swelling on his mouth, and it made her want to cry. But Mick was there and he wanted to be with her, he was willing to talk stuff out, and the crying was over.

He slid his tongue along her lower lip and she opened to him, her tongue darting out to soothe his injury.

He groaned deep in his throat.

She pulled back. “Did I hurt you?”

He smiled at her, a crooked grin. “Yeah. That doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.”

“You’re so kinky.”

“Luckily—thank the fucking heavens—you seem to like that about me.”

“I do.” She smiled back at him, stepped away from him and took his hand. “Come over here and let me show you, Mick.”

He gripped her hand and yanked her back into him roughly, making her gasp. “Oh, no. I’ve had enough of you trying to be boss, princess.”

She yelped when he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Hey!”

He gave her ass a sound spank. “Don’t argue with me.”

He carried her into the bedroom and flopped her down on the bed and immediately started to undress her. Her yoga pants came off, followed by her tank top, then her underwear. With only a few fingertips, he pressed between her breasts, using one finger to make a hard pressure point that told her in no uncertain terms to do what he wanted. She lay back and watched as he tore his T-shirt over his head.

She never got tired of looking at his muscled chest, the ridges of his abs. The narrow line of dark hair leading into the waistband of his jeans. She bit her lip as he unzipped them, knowing he always went commando. In seconds he was kicking the denim away and, naked, he lowered himself over her.

She reached for him, her hands hungry for the weight of his already hard cock, but he took both wrists with a low growl and spread her arms out to the sides. He lowered his mouth, and she felt the heat of his breath on the side of her breast before he bit in savagely.

“Ah! Mick . . .”

But the pain was immediately washed away in a flood of endorphins and that sense of being his she craved down to her bones.

She moaned quietly, and he licked at the sore spot, sucked the tender skin. She was going wet, loving his mouth on her, his teeth.

“God, when you bite me . . .” she said, groaning.

“When I bite you, what?” he murmured against her skin.

“It makes me feel . . . owned.”

“Do you want that? Do you like it when I leave marks on you? Tell me, Allie girl.”

“Yes. I love to be marked. I love to look at them and remember it was you.”

“Did you look at your marks while I was gone, baby? Did you want to remember me?”

She licked her lips. “Always. Always, Mick.”

“Allie . . .”

He moved down to her stomach, kissed her there softly, his mouth hot and lingering before he nipped at her flesh.

“Oh . . .”

He paused for a moment, blew onto her skin, tickling her, then he bit. Hard.

“Oh!”

She reached for him, buried her fingers in his hair, but he pushed her hands away and she knew she was to try to hold still. She lowered her arms, spread out on each side, a lovely, liquid sense of obedience flooding her.

He moved to another spot and bit again, and once more she cried out but she didn’t move.

It hurt like crazy. Her body was lighting up with need.

He bit her again and again, moving lower until he was at that tender juncture between hip and thigh. He bit down hard, pulled back just long enough for her to take in a gasping breath, to fist her hands in the duvet. Then he did it again.

“Fuck, that hurts!”

He chuckled. Held her down with both hands on her thighs and did it once more, biting her so hard she didn’t know how much more she could take.

“Ah!”

“Is it too much? Tell me.”

“It’s . . .” She was panting hard from the pain, from the pleasure. “It’s almost too much. And not enough. Please, Mick. I need more.”

His voice was a guttural growl, rasping steel on gravel. “Do you have any idea what it does to me to hear you say these things?” He grabbed her by the waist and picked her up, shoved her farther up the bed. “Do you know how fucking rock-hard I am for you right now?” He got on his knees, sitting back on his heels, shoved her legs apart and yanked her body in, his arms wrapping around her back as he lifted her until she was straddling his lap, his fingers digging into her flesh. She grabbed onto his arms to steady herself.

“This is why,” he gasped as he pressed her hips into his, her open, soaking wet sex coming up against his solid shaft. “This is why I was always so damn careful with you. Because with you . . . Fuck . . . You unleash the beast inside of me, Allie girl. And now it’s been pushed too far to contain.”

“Please,” she whispered, her arms winding around his neck.

He paused, his breath coming in ragged pants. “I’m going to hurt you.”

Her body was on fire. His pulsing cock pressed against her pussy lips, his hard chest crushed her breasts, and every inch of her skin needed him to touch, bite, strike, scratch.

“Yes. Do it, Mick.”

He picked her up, and there was one brief moment when she was held, suspended, his gaze boring into hers, his mouth beautifully loose with unbridled lust. Then he impaled her—there was no other word for it—stabbing into her so hard and fast she couldn’t breathe.

Right away he began a hard, punishing stroke, his thick cock plunging into her over and over. Pleasure spiraled, pain soared: his big ramming cock, his fingernails digging into her ass as he moved her up and down on his heavy shaft as if she were nothing more than a doll. And all the while he growled like an animal sprung from its cage. He fucked her like an animal. Mindless. Primal. Heat and pleasure and pain.

Her nails dug into the back of his neck, and all she could do was hang on to him while sensation took her over completely. She was helpless against what he was doing to her. Helpless against the waves that threatened to drown her as she started to come.

“Yeah, baby . . . Ah, Christ, baby girl . . .”

The words turned into a low muttering, then a thunderous growl until he threw his head back and yelled, bucking into her so hard it shook her all over, her climax shattering her to the core, her mind reeling.

“Mick!”

Pleasure and pleasure and pleasure, drowning out the pain. She clung to him, helpless in his arms. Rendered helpless by this pure need for him. For whatever he wanted of her. She wanted him to ravage her just like this. Wanted to be flesh to his flesh, and nothing more. It felt pure to her in some way she would never be able to explain.

The beast had been unleashed. And met the wildness inside her. And it was perfect.

*   *   *

“HEY.”

They were still panting, her arms and legs wrapped around him so tightly he could feel her heart beating against his chest. He could feel the warmth of every luscious curve of this girl’s body. His girl.

They were covered in sweat. He could smell it, their pheromones seeming to blend together perfectly, the perfume of sex. And beneath it something metallic . . .

“Baby, you’re bleeding,” he said, bringing his hand up to see the red spots on his fingertips.

“Hmm, what?” she asked sleepily.

“My nails must have scratched you when I grabbed your ass.”

“No big deal. I liked it.”

“I know you did. But let’s get you cleaned up, baby girl.”

He picked her up and carried her, still wrapped around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder in a show of utter trust that made his chest ache.