Behind her, Axel’s grip tightened. He swelled even more inside her, scraping her sensitive flesh once more and prodding a spot that had her crying out again. The headboard banged the wall harder, faster.

And behind her, he leaned over her body and breathed into her ear. “Oh . . . Fuck me, princess.” He groaned, the sound vibrating through her oversensitive body. “I’m coming!”

She gave him a warbled little moan as he picked up the speed of his thrusts, bit into her neck, then snarled out his satisfaction in long, plowing strokes. She spiked into another sharp peak.

Timeless moments later, she tumbled down into a soft cloud of satisfaction. Except for the sound of their harsh panting, silence prevailed. The headboard stilled. Axel stopped. Mystery melted into the mattress, her arms and legs giving out under her.

He went down with her, collapsing on top of her in a heap of limbs as he petted her hip absently, as if silently apologizing for crushing her underneath him.

“What happened?” She really didn’t know. Her body still pulsed, pinged, and glowed. But right now, she absolutely didn’t have a brain.

“Holy fuck.” He groaned as he raised himself off her smaller body and let out an exhausted breath. “That was mind-blowing.”

Understatement of all time. That had been more than sex, more than two people exchanging pleasure. They’d flowed together, melded, fused somehow. Mystery hadn’t ever been in love. She’d always known she had a crush—maybe more—on Axel, but she’d never imagined that she’d fallen for him completely and irrevocably.

That probably explained why she’d never been able to muster more than passing interest for another guy and why she’d so often avoided sex or emotional intimacies. When men had wanted to get to know her, she’d suggested loud clubs and public settings to make that impossible. She’d appreciated having company and often gravitated to dates who would make her laugh. At the time, she’d thought she merely liked guys with a sense of humor. Now she suspected it was because they hadn’t been serious about her, either.

How had less than an hour in bed with a man she hadn’t seen in years been the most revealing, intimate exchange of her entire life?

Mystery didn’t have answers, and emotions she’d been stomping down and burying bubbled to her surface. She burst into tears—and not dainty little sniffling cries. Of course not. These were giant, loud blubbering sobs. The total embarrassment only made her cry harder.

Axel eased out of her well-used body and rolled to her side, taking her in his arms. “It’s all right, princess. I’m here. I know. It was big. Powerful. Look at me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting him. He’d only see the love in her eyes. He’d see how badly she wanted to do things that had likely never crossed his mind, like wearing his ring and having his babies and going into debt for a dream house together. Lord, she was so pathetic.

He caressed her back, big sweeps of his palm comforting her and promising more. “Look at me.”

Mystery tried to school her features and crack one eye open at him. Understanding lit his blue eyes. Sweat dampened his hair, and he looked spent. But happy. A smile broke out across his face. She answered in kind, even as tears ran down her cheeks.

“I’ve got you,” he vowed. “Hold on to me.”

She sniffled and pressed her face to his chest, absorbing his strength and the sense of belonging to him. He kissed the top of her head, rubbed absently at her back. Mystery allowed herself to sink into the lethargy, the sated peace.

“You surprised by how good we are together?” he asked.

Her lids fluttered shut as she fitted herself even more tightly against his big chest. “Yes . . . but mostly no.”

She felt him smile above her, and he held her closer. “I’m not surprised much, either.”

“It’s weird. I don’t know you fantastically well, but I feel like I know you deep down, if that makes any sense.”

“It does. I understood you from the beginning.”

He had, she realized. “Exactly.”

Axel stroked her hair, and Mystery floated in a bubble of peace, liberally laced with happiness. They’d found something wonderful. Maybe it was chemistry. Maybe it had been love at first sight . . . delayed by six and a half years. She wasn’t sure. But she knew that she couldn’t wait to find out what happened next. It sucked that someone felt compelled to chase and threaten her, but that had brought them together—twice. Things happened for a reason, at least to her way of thinking. Maybe all this grief was meant to be because she and Axel were meant to be.

One step at a time.

“Anything hurt? Sore?” he murmured.

“Beside the obvious?” she winced, then laughed. “Not sure how well I’ll be walking tomorrow, but at least I’ll be smiling.”

“I’m hoping so. I’m also hoping that tomorrow I’ll be inside that sweet pussy again. Maybe even sooner.”

Even if she was tender, that sounded great to her. “I won’t complain.”

He laughed, then eased off the bed. Mystery lay in a dreamy haze, staring at the ceiling, wearing what was probably a stupid smile. And she didn’t care.

She heard the shower in the adjoining bathroom cut on. A spray of water hit the tile. He flipped on a harsh overhead light, dimmed it to something soft, then prowled toward her in all his big, masculine glory, minus the condom. He looked so amazing naked that she could barely remember her name.

When he reached her side, Axel uncuffed her before he wrapped an arm around her waist. Sluggishly, Mystery got to her feet and let him lead her to the bathroom. Steam now fogged the edges of the mirror, and heat rose from the sleekly tiled shower big enough for five. He opened the heavy glass door, and she entered the stall, moaning as soon as the warm spray hit her chest. Axel slipped in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her shoulder.

“If you don’t force me to stop touching you, I may not be responsible for what happens next,” he warned.

“Force you?” She giggled at him. “How would I ever do that? And why?

Axel would never cross a line with any woman. Mystery knew that personally. He’d make damn sure he had consent before he touched her. She was just so euphoric that he’d finally chosen her.

From a nearby soap dish, he grabbed a bar and lathered it in his big hands. “Hold up your hair.”

She did as he asked, and he rewarded her, gliding his wide, soapy palms over her shoulders, back, hips. He bent to wash her feet, her legs, her ass, all the while kneading and rubbing at any knots of tension.

Mystery moaned. Was Axel just the perfect man? Hmm, no one was absolutely perfect. But he was perfect for her. Vaguely, she wondered what she’d tell her father about them when they talked next. He’d known years ago that she had a crush on Axel. She wondered if her dad would be surprised that nothing had changed.

“By the way, any worries that my father would care where you came from? Empty. Now, if you let him, he might ask you how to make his films about soldiers and war more realistic, but he’s already got a soft spot for you because you saved me once.”

“Rinse,” he demanded softly, not commenting.

She did as he’d bid. “It’s true. You know, he set up a college fund for Alvarez’s son. He paid for the extras the government didn’t provide for the burials of both your friends who died that day.”

“He tried to give me an obscene amount of money, too.” He grimaced. “I turned it down.”

Mystery knew it would sound crazy to most, and few men would have made that choice. But that summed up Axel. Her heart constricted. Oh, yeah. This was love. It had come hard, felt sappy and drugging—and she loved every minute.

She turned and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “If I’m happy, he’s happy.”

He paused, then began soaping his wide, bulging chest. She followed his movements with her hungry stare. It seemed impossible that she could want him again when she felt this wrung out and more than a little sore. How could she ache to feel him inside her again already?