“Fuck!” he roared, and pulled out so he could thrust back in.

Hard.

Fast.

Rough.

Thank fuck.

He slammed in and out of me, and I clung to him for the ride.

Frantic.

Wild.

Carnal.

I’m never letting go.

He exploded with a load roar, and I came a moment later, screaming his name.

We stilled and let it wash over us, limbs entwined, skin-to-skin.  I drifted off into a pleasure-induced fog.  His lips on mine snapped me out of it.

“Fuck me,” he muttered in between kisses.  “Fucking amazing . . . ” His voice drifted off as he deepened our kiss.  We stayed like that for a long time, him lazily kissing me and not letting go.  I could have spent eternity like that.

Eventually, he broke away from my lips and pushed himself up off the bed and left the room.  When he returned a moment later, he’d disposed of the condom.  Standing at the side of the bed, he let his gaze drift over my body.  “Don’t ever change,” he murmured.

I frowned my confusion.  “What?”

As he bent to retrieve the bottle of scotch and glass he’d placed on the floor next to the bed, he said, “You’re perfect just the way you are.  Inside and out.  Don’t change that for anyone.”

His words went straight to my heart and I felt breathless as I soaked them in.

He sat on the edge of the bed and poured himself a drink before placing the bottle back on the floor.  Turning his upper body to look at me, he held the glass out to me.  “Do you want some?”

I took the glass and downed half its contents.  It burnt going down, but I wanted that.

Anything to counter the intoxicating happiness floating through me.

This is too good to be true.

I handed it back to him and watched as he drank the rest of it.  He put the glass on the floor and then moved onto the bed next to me.  Lying on his side, he propped himself up on his elbow and placed his hand on my stomach.  My belly fluttered at his touch, and I rolled into him to press a kiss to his lips.

When we pulled apart, he whispered, “You’re okay with what I did today, aren’t you?”

His body grew tense while he waited for my response.

I nodded.  “Yes.”

He took a long breath, held it for a moment and then expelled it on a, “Fuck.”

I cupped my hand to his cheek.  “Is that not okay?”

His hand gently smoothed my hair as he stared intently at my forehead, almost like he was avoiding my eyes.  Then he gave them to me and said, “You’ve no idea how okay that is.”

I smiled, and said softly, “Good.”

He didn’t return my smile, just continued to silently watch me.

Eventually, I asked, “Are you okay with what you did today?”

Surprise flashed on his face for a split second.  “You don’t think I am?”

Why’s he avoiding the question?

I chose my words carefully.  “I think your feelings on it are split down the middle.”

Again, he didn’t say anything, so I continued.  “You strike me as a man who isn’t afraid to do whatever it takes to keep people safe.  I also think you like the violence, so I’m not sure why you’d have any doubts about it.”

This got a response.  He moved fast, rolling me onto my back and moving on top of me.  One of his hands restrained mine on the bed above my head; the other one traced a line down my face.  His breathing was rough and his eyes were flashing something I couldn’t quite pick.  “I don’t do what I do because I want to do it.  I do it because it’s in me and I can’t deny it most days,” he said bitterly.  Pushing an angry breath out, he continued, “As much as I fucking try to keep it caged, it won’t fucking leave me alone.  And yes, I do fucking like it, but, fuck, I don’t want to.”

He let me go and pushed up off the bed.  In one fluid movement, he was up and getting dressed.  His face was a mask of fury, and I didn’t know what to say or do to calm him down.  I figured, if it were me, I’d want to be left alone to deal with it until I felt calmer.  So, I let him do what he had to, and a moment later, when he stalked out of the room, I let him go.

Shit.

Chapter Twelve

Blade

“Ashley!”

She couldn’t hear me, so I screamed louder.  “Ashley!”

Still couldn’t hear me.

Fuck.

Why couldn’t she hear me?

Her attacker moved his hand between her legs and roughly pulled them apart.

No!

“Ashley!”

I tried to run to her, but my legs were like lead, and I couldn’t lift them.

Fuck.

He slipped his hands in her panties, and she screamed until he slapped her.

I tried yelling for her again, but she didn’t turn to me.

And then my legs moved, and I ran to her.

As her attacker thrust inside her, I finally got to them, but she still couldn’t hear me.  And when I stood right in front of her, she looked straight through me as she screamed her horror into the air.

“Ashley!”  I begged her to hear me, but she couldn’t.

I didn’t exist to her.

I sat bolt upright in bed, my skin clammy with the sweat the dream had induced.  So much sweat tonight.

Fuck.

I turned to the bedside clock.

Four fucking am.