“Now, baby. Come for me now.”

His voice, his command, triggered her climax. She came, and came apart, her orgasm rippling over her skin, deep into her belly, her sex. Sharp and soft all at the same time. Hard yet liquid. She was shaken by the intensity of his gaze on hers.

“Say you’re mine. Allie,” he demanded, his voice rough. “Say it.”

“Yes. God . . . yours. Always.”

“Mine.”

His body went stiff all over and he plunged into her, shaking as he came.

“Mine, my girl,” he muttered, his mouth going beautifully soft with pleasure.

The reverberations seemed to go on forever as they trembled together, coming and coming. And she saw it in his eyes, in his pleasure-torn expression.

Love.

There was no mistaking it—naked on his face, all of it written there as if in indelible ink, as stark and raw as she felt at that moment herself.

Love him. Always.

She loved him. With all her heart, with every cell in her being. And it was a love strong enough to hold up to the years, the times he’d broken her heart. But even broken, the love had remained. Had only grown stronger in knowing the man he’d become.

Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away even as her heart dared to soar.

Love him so damn much.

He loved her back.

She’d known it in some cerebral way. But now she felt it. And that was something entirely different.

She blinked. Blinked again in wonder. “Mick.”

He tilted his head, his brows drawn together as if he were thinking very hard. Then he leaned in slowly and kissed her mouth. He pulled back a few inches, then kissed her lips once more. Then her cheek, over and over as she melted into his touch. Then her temple, her ear, her hair, before pulling back to look at her again.

His hand went around the back of her neck, cradling her head in his palm.

“Allie . . .” He paused. Started again. “I love you, Allie girl. My girl.”

Her heart twisted in her chest, wanting to sing, to leap. “I am your girl.”

“You love me,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

The tears welled in her eyes, making his face swim before her. She blinked them away. She needed to see him. “I do. I love you.”

“I never stopped,” he told her. “Never. I was just . . . stubborn. Stupid. I never gave you enough credit.”

She pressed a fingertip to his lips. “Shh. Don’t. You never gave yourself enough credit, either. But we’re here now. That’s what’s important.”

He nodded, kissed her fingertips, took her hand in his and held it to his cheek. “How can I ask you to forgive me for what I did to you? You loved me, and I didn’t believe in either of us enough. I fucking hurt you.”

“Yes. You did. But it’s time to put all of that behind us. We have to if we’re going to be able to hang on to each other. If we’re going to be able to love each other.” She slid her hands down over his shoulders, gripped the bulging muscles of his biceps. “Mick, tell me you can do that. Tell me you’ll try.”

Suddenly her heart was thundering in her chest. What if he didn’t know how to let himself love her? What if he couldn’t let the past go and move forward with her? Simply saying he loved her was only the first step.

“I don’t have any other choice. Not now. I love you, my baby girl. I love you. I don’t know how I’ve lived without you all these years.” He stroked her hair from her face, his fingers lingering there. “You’re mine now. The way you always should have been.”

“Mick . . . can we really do this? Can we really start over? I’m not foolish enough to think we’ll be starting with a clean slate. No one does that. We can’t pretend the past never happened—”

“I don’t want to. You’re as much a part of my past as you are my present. As I hope you’ll be of my future.”

She smiled, stroked his cheek. He turned his face into her palm and kissed her there. Softly. Lingeringly.

“But things may come up that we’ll have to deal with,” she said. “We have to communicate with each other.”

“You know I kind of suck at that sometimes. If it’s kink related, I’m all about the transparency, but the emotional stuff . . . that’s a lot harder.”

“I know. I promise I’ll cut you a little slack. For being male, if nothing else.”

“Oh, will you now?”

She grinned up at him. “I will. I’m generous like that.”

“I’ll show you generous, my girl. I’ll be generous all over your fine ass.”

“Promises, promises,” she teased.

She yelped as he picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and started up the stairs.

“You’re a caveman, Mick Reid!”

“Tell me you don’t love it.”

“I . . . plead the Fifth.”

“Ha!”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To bed, where I can do terrible things to your gorgeous body. Do I hear more arguments?”

“Um . . . no.”

“No, what?” he demanded.

“No . . . please?”

He laughed. “That’ll do.”

They reached his bedroom, where the afternoon light was seeping through the curtains, illuminating it with the kind of soft golden sunlight that made dust motes dance in the air. His muscles flexed under her palms as he bent and laid her on the bed. He was so beautifully built. She’d always loved the breadth of his shoulders, his narrow hips, the pale gold hue of his skin. She loved the wicked gleam in his eyes, the cocky half smile on his face. The mix of bad boy and occasional tender lover and the sadistic streak that ran through it all.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked.

He rubbed his chin. “I’m working on it. I just had a mind-blowing orgasm and told you I love you. I might need a minute to recover.”

“Mind-blowing?”

“Every damn time.”

“Really?”

“Don’t think that gives you any bargaining power.”

“Doesn’t it?” She batted her lashes.

He chuckled. “All right, I give up. You know damn well it does.”

“I rather like that idea.”

“Don’t get too comfortable with it. I’m still the Dom.”

“I’m pretty sure you won’t ever let me forget it.”

“Damn right,” he said as he lunged for her.

“Mick!”

“Shh.”

He flipped her over onto her stomach and straddled her, pinning her down with his legs while he found the ankle cuffs he kept attached to his bed, and shackled her with lightning speed. Immediately he began to spank her, a quick, sharp volley of slaps. They came too quickly for her to have time to convert the pain. She was overloading, squirming, panting. He smacked her harder—her ass, the backs of her thighs. The pain built and built. She couldn’t give herself over to it—it was too much, too fast.

“Mick!”

“My name is not a safe word, princess.”

She almost laughed, but his hand came down again and again, fast and stinging like crazy. Her flesh was burning hot.

“Do you need to safe-word?” he asked, still spanking her.

“Mick,” she said, her breath rasping in her lungs as she struggled uselessly to get away from him, from the padded cuffs holding her ankles so securely.

“Yes?”

He smacked her again, impossibly harder.

She did laugh, then, as the lovely brain chemicals broke free and swarmed her head, her body. She went limp all over.

He stopped, unbuckled the cuffs, turned her over and held her in his arms.

“Lord, I love to see you like this,” he said quietly, almost reverentially. “Your pupils wide, your cheeks flushed. Your lips . . . so damn beautiful. I always love you, but when you’re like this, yielding to me so completely, well . . . that’s when I really fall for you all over again. Every damn time. Because I know you’ve given yourself into my hands. You make yourself so vulnerable it makes my chest ache. And I have never said anything like that to anyone in my life.” He paused to stroke her cheek, her jaw, her throat. “Love you, baby girl.”

“Love you, too, you beast.”