He cut me off. “I don’t need to be naked.” His gaze fell to his lap. “Only this.” His face darkened as his hand stroked defiantly. The glint in his eye looked like he expected me to tell him to stop pleasuring himself. The tilt of his chin spoke of bravado for rubbing the silky hot flesh between his legs.

I couldn’t take my eyes of his cock already glistening with a bead of pre-cum. My heart raced as his breathing picked up.

“Imagine your fingers are my fingers. What would I do to you?”

My nipples tingled at the power in his voice. The domination laced with uncertainty and harsh desire.

A blush warmed my cheeks at the thought of acting out my fantasies. He watched me with such scrutiny. My body wasn’t perfect. I’d carried a child. I’d lost weight from stress and couldn’t hide the silver lines of stretch marks on my lower stomach. The list of my insecurities raced in my head, dousing my arousal.

“Stop thinking and do it.” Fox ran a thumb over the top of his cock, deliberately taunting me, smearing the drop of moisture.

I moved forward till my knees almost brushed his. His eyes fell to my pussy; his face etched with stress, the scar livid on his cheek.

“You’d push two fingers deep, feeling my heat, loving my wetness,” I whispered. “You’d work me just like you did in the greenhouse. You touched me like an expert. I want you to do it again.”

His throat moved as he swallowed. His quads tensed, cock rippling in his hand.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I stood transfixed, never taking my eyes off his slow assault on his erection, entranced by the small edge of control he had left on his violent nature.

The element of real danger dampened, but also accelerated my teeth-clenching need for him. If I touched him now, I doubted my tiny knives could fend him off. Obeying him was a matter of life and death.

“What else,” he murmured. “What else would I do to you?”

My blood thrilled, nipples hardened painfully. “You’d lick my clit and taste how wet I was. You’d kiss my inner thigh and bite.” I pinched my clit, so, so close to giving in to the spindling orgasm pulsing in my blood.

“I want to watch you come apart. I want to see you pant and tremble. I want you to imagine me sinking deep inside. Hard and fast and taking everything from you.” His voice rasped, sounding like pure sex.

Brazenly, I cupped my breasts, rolling my pebbled nipples. I forgot about being a mother or being responsible. I focused only on the sexy dangerous male watching me as if I could ruin him with one word.

I gave myself to him.

I lost myself to sin.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Sweet and utter fucking perfection,” Fox grunted, working his cock harder.

The fire in my blood raced like an inferno, incinerating my core.

My throat slammed closed; my eyes fluttered shut on their own accord. Fox successfully intoxicated me—made me drunk on desire for him. Feeling lightheaded, I swayed forward, craving his hands on me.

I loved holding his complete attention. Too often his eyes swam with ghosts and demons, never fully centred in the present.

Everything I’d agreed to, everything that I was, disappeared. It was just me and him—the world stood still. The connection between us grew.

Friendship.

Companionship.

But I wanted more. So much more.

Trailing my fingers from breasts to pussy, I cried out as Fox suddenly sat upright. His heavy hands landed on my hips, holding me still. The way he devoured me with his gaze didn’t make me conscious. It empowered me. It enriched me.

His eyes glowed white as, with no hesitation, he forced my legs apart and thrust a finger deep inside. I moaned loudly, shivering with need.

“Come for me. Fuck my hand, Zel. Fuck it.” Fox inserted another finger, and with his grip on my side, forced me to ride his hand.

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to collapse onto his lap. I wanted him to fill me, but all I could do was stand there and preform a miracle by coming and not touching him for balance. I’d enjoyed what he’d given me in the greenhouse, but I wanted more than that. I needed full body contact. I craved it.

But he gave me no choice.

His finger twisted inside, focusing on the extra sensitive area. His thumb pressed and swirled on my clit and every atom in my body self-imploded. He was a fast learner and the orgasm tore through me, rupturing my heart, seizing my muscles, shredding my womb with every pulsating release.

On and on, he fucked me with his fingers until the last ebb squeezed my entire body dry. I forgot where I was. I forgot who I was with. I tumbled forward into his arms and touched him.

Life went from heaven to hell in an instant.

Fox shoved me to the ground, tearing his fingers from me. I bounced off the carpet, my eyes flying wide as he loomed above me.

Gone was the lust and need and softness, replaced with sheer trembling rage. Cold calculation filled his eyes until he looked blind from everything else but the urge to kill.

“Fox. Wait.” I tried to scramble backward toward my discarded knife.

He fell to his knees, and with excruciatingly strong hands, flipped me onto all fours. Pushing my shoulder blades, he forced my cheek against the carpet and captured my arms behind my back. I squirmed, trying to get free, but it was impossible. “Fox. Stop. Please.”

“Shut up. To be inflicted is to inflict.” His voice was programmed—robotic. “I must obey. I must—”

My heart bolted, bringing with it terror and trepidation. His tone was military cold, remote and unfeeling. He’d relapsed and there was nothing I could do.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I begged, “Please… do—”

Then, he fucked me.

His hard cock plunged deep inside, filling me, distorting me. The wetness from my orgasm prevented searing pain, but the fierceness of every thrust made me ache instantly with bruises.

He grunted and rutted like a fucking beast. Fingers digging deep into my hips, jerking me back to meet his every surge.

I didn’t want him like this. Not again. It was like a horrible flashback of the first time. The violence, the way he seemed to hate that he needed me—hate the weakness of wanting to join.

My back bowed as he thrust deeper and deeper. My eyes leaked, adding salt to my stinging carpet-burned cheek. I hated him. Hated the brokenness inside him.

“I told you. I warned you. You didn’t fucking listen. Now look what you made me do. I can’t stop it. Goddammit, I can’t stop.” He drove into me like a monster. He was big. Too big. It wasn’t erotic or fun. It was purely punishment and nothing else. My heart broke, hating his coldness. Hating him for making me hope that he could be fixed.

Fox cursed in a foreign language. His hipbones dug into my ass, faster and faster.

I sniffed back my tears and hardened my heart. I was wrong to think we had anything special. Fox had eloquently shown me how stupid I truly was. It was over. I was done. This would be the last time he hurt me.

Shutting my emotions down, I let him fuck me. I switched off every sensation and waited for it to be over. I preferred to ignore what was happening and pretended none of this existed.

You brought this on yourself.

I told myself to shut up. I’d only done what I thought might work. I poured all my effort into him only to be thwarted in the worst possible way.

His hips thrust harder and instead of trying to get away, I pushed back, deliberately impaling him harder.

He gasped. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh, God.”

Wanting it over, I squeezed my inner muscles around him, rocking back, giving him everything I had left.

His breath came faster, harsher as he thrust again and again. He was violent and cruel, every stroke measured for pain rather than pleasure. He bumped against the top of my pussy, hurting me with urgency.