"Oh, yes, I quite forgot. You trust me." Velvet ripped, and then his bare hand spread over her belly, sending small shock waves through her skin. The other hand glided down, spreading the humming warmth along the cleft of her buttocks before it pushed between her legs. "Do you trust me now?" His fingers went still, and Sam felt her own wetness as they pressed against it. "Your body does your pleading for you, Samantha. It begs for mine. Mine will be happy to oblige."

"The only reason you want me is because I look like your old girlfriend," she said tiredly. "Her name was Frances, right?"

One or more of the windows in her bedroom shattered.

He flipped her around, slamming her back against the wall. "How did you know?" He bent until their breath mixed and she could see nothing but the ghosts in his eyes. Lightbulbs in her lamps began to explode, sending sprays of sparks into the air. "Who told you?"

Sam felt an overwhelming sadness that had nothing to do with what they were and everything to do with what they might have been. They'd found each other too late; they'd gone in different directions. It made no difference. Whatever Lucan was, she knew that he was the man she had been born to love.

"It doesn't matter." She touched his cheek with her scarred hand, felt him flinch. "I still love you anyway."

His eyes narrowed. "Do you."

The plate glass in the sliding door came apart, the pieces sliding down to fall out of the frame and crash onto the concrete pad of her balcony.

Lucan dragged her down to the carpet, laying her out on her back as he tore at the front of his trousers. Sam latched onto his shoulders, curling her legs around his as he came between them, his hand around his cock, the head punching into her like a fist before the shaft followed, slamming into her with so much force that she slid back on the carpet.

Sam's shoulders ground into the rug fibers as Lucan draped her legs over his arms and lifted her hips, fucking her hard and deep, ramming through the sudden, terrifying orgasm that racked her without stopping. Holding on for the ride was all she could do, and then he picked her up and got to his feet, still working her over him as he walked across the room. He bent, using his arm to sweep everything off her little dining room table, and then pulled out of her, dropping her on her feet.

"What are you—"

He whirled her around, pushing her down against the table-top, using his knee to separate her legs from behind. When Sam got her hands under her and tried to lift up, he gripped the back of her neck and held her down, pushing her cheek against the smooth wood surface.

"Don't move." His voice sounded guttural, thick with anger and desire. "I'm not done with you yet."

Sam felt his fingers push into her, and saw one of her kitchen cabinets fly open and release a burst of broken glass. Then she realized why he had brought her here. Directly above her was a hanging light made of dozens of pieces of dark gray glass that had been shaped to look like flowers.

If it broke, it would fall on her.

He felt her muscles clench against him. "Are you worried about something, Samantha?" he murmured against her tangled hair. "I thought you loved me."

Lucan was deliberately trying to goad her, as if nothing were more important to him than tearing down her feelings for him by flaunting his power. On some level Sam knew that if she fought him now, he wouldn't force her, but he'd win the battle of wills.

She was exhausted, and ready to let him win.

What he didn't realize was how he'd given himself away by not hurting her. He may have broken every glass, window, and light in the apartment, but not a single piece of glass had touched her. His bare hands were all over her, but she wasn't being torn apart.

He doesn't want to hurt me, even when he's trying to. That knowledge made her blink back hot tears.

"I do love you." Sam made herself go boneless under his hands, only lifting her hips a little to give him better access to her.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you what you want."

Again she felt Lucan go still against her, and then the smooth head of his cock replaced his fingers. With a slow, steady pressure, he pushed, wedging himself inside her body.

The hanging glass above her crackled.

Lucan's hand curved around her hip, his fingers inching down to the top of her sex, where his thumb pushed into the soft notch. He stroked the pad of his thumb over her clit as he pressed deeper, and Sam trembled between pleasure and panic. She could feel his big frame shaking now, and heard a deep, rumbling sound that might have been a groan. The tight bulge of his scrotum brushed her vaginal lips as he sank in to the hilt.

"Brave girl." With a curse, he started to ease out of her. "I'll make you a happy one. I'll leave you alone."

Sam reached down to catch his hand and brought it back to her clit. "No." She pushed back against him before he could withdraw completely, using the muscles that had tried to keep him out to clamp down on him and hold him inside her. "Do it again."

"I'm frightening you."

"Not really." She glanced up at the hanging light. "If that thing falls, it'll hit you first." She pushed her fingers between his and used both to rub her clit. "Finish it, Lucan. Come inside me. Make me come."

Sam didn't think he could, not when he pressed slowly back into her. The only thing that kept her from looking at the glass above her head was their stroking fingers—and the suspicion that something was waiting for her just out of reach, something more important than being afraid.

"Samantha," he breathed as he withdrew and pushed back in smoothly, one hand on her hip to steady her, the other working her aching clit without mercy.

Samantha felt the fear inside her change to heat, and then all that mattered was the melding of their flesh. She didn't know where he was taking her, but there was no holding back now, not against something as primal as this.

His hips slapped against her buttocks, swift kisses of damp skin as he slid in and out of her with thorough, relentless repetition. The tops of his thighs brushed hers as he pulled her back, making her meet him as he buried himself inside her.

"Give it to me, Samantha," he muttered, tensing every muscle pressed against her as he went impossibly deep. "Now."

He did something with his fingers and hers, dragging them over her labia and then her clit as he twisted his hips against her, and Sam shattered into a horrendous, endless climax that sent her rocketing up and over and back again until she thought her heart might explode. A moment later Lucan stiffened and flooded her, holding her so tightly as he did she thought bones might snap.

The gentleness with which he drew out of her made her catch a sob, and then he had her in his arms, lifting and cradling her against his chest. "If you start to weep, so will I."

That was all that was left now, Sam thought as he carried her through the bedroom and into the bathroom. The crying part. What had he said to her, the first time they'd made love? Perhaps all of your life's miseries were to prepare you for what I would do to you.

She let Lucan put her in the shower, standing silent and docile as he washed her from head to toe. All the glass in the bathroom had shattered, so he wouldn't let her put a single foot on the floor or touch anything. He did everything for her, drying her with a soft towel, carrying her naked to her bed, and lying down with her in his arms.

"Look at me."

Sam did, and saw that the icy metal of his irises had softened and darkened—with pain, with regret, she couldn't tell. But the rage was gone, and he was handling her as if she were made of silk. "I'm okay. You didn't hurt me."

"Liar." His hand moved down to stroke the curves of her bottom. "Come here."

Sam didn't think she could, and then she was on top of him, and he was sliding into her, not pounding or taking but gliding easily, caressing her from the inside. The sensations became sweet and thick, as if she'd been covered in cream and slowly licked clean, and when he brought her mouth to his she moaned.

"Remember this, Samantha." He tasted her mouth again, catching her lower lip with his teeth for a moment before releasing it and rolling with her until she was under him and he pushed into her with smooth, firm strokes. "Remember us like this."

Sam was so tired she shouldn't have been able to move, but he wouldn't stop, and her body refused to lie there and do nothing. She arched, shifting her legs to cradle his hips, bringing him deeper.

Lucan never stopped kissing her. His tongue went deep, curling around hers, making her return the kiss. He would pull back to trace her lips with small, light brushes of his, and then coax them open to come inside to taste her again. She felt his fangs brush her lips more than once, but he was so careful that he never drew blood, even when he kissed her so deeply that she couldn't tell where his mouth ended and hers began.

It couldn't last forever, even when she thought it might. Her breasts heaved as she felt herself tighten from her toes to the back of her neck, and something gave way inside her, making her clench and gush around him at the same time. As her orgasm shimmered through her, as bright and silent as sunrise on the ocean, Lucan buried himself in the center of it, lifting his head and watching her eyes as he released his semen in slow, heavy pulses.

When it was over, he kissed her again, then shifted to his side, staying inside her as he held her against his heart.

They lay together until Samantha was almost asleep, and then she felt him rise and leave her. He came back dressed, and used a damp washcloth between her legs before he dressed her in panties and an old T-shirt. He disappeared again before bringing a large glass of water and two of her granola bars, which he set on the night table beside her.

"I'm okay." She looked at the empty bucket he'd also put by the side of the bed. Did he think she was going to be sick? "I'm going to pass out. I don't need anything."

"You will." He took her right hand in his. He'd put on another pair of gloves, she noted absently; of course he would carry spares. The way she wore a backup piece. "You'll never forgive me for this, but I am sorry, Samantha." He bent down and put his mouth on hers, kissing her as though starved for her, as if he'd never touched her once the entire night.