Fox snorted. “Make love. I don’t even know the meaning of it. How can I do something I’ll never understand?”

I’ll make you understand.

My eyes flew open. Somehow my need to help him became tangled with the desire to make him fall for me. To keep him, so I could always be there to bring him back from the dark.

It didn’t matter that I’d be shackling myself with more problems than support—or that I never wanted him near Clara. It was a stupid fantasy.

It didn’t stop my skin burning for his mouth or my pu**y growing wet for his cock. I wanted. I wanted. I wanted.

Yet he never came near me.

Angry tears glossed my eyes. “If you can’t give me what I need, then this deal is done. I told you I agreed to your terms not just for the money, but because I wanted you. Well, try wanting someone who can never give anything in return.”

My fingers dropped from pebbled ni**les to my button and zipper. Undoing my shorts, I pushed them down in angry jerks—nothing sensual or alluring. I was f**king angry, and I needed to get rid of the insane need in my blood.

Fox made a tortured noise in the back of his throat. “Stop it. I’m not safe. Put your clothes back on and give me time to get my shit together.”

I should’ve heeded his warning. I knew how dangerous he was. But it didn’t stop me. I snapped, “I want to see you naked. I want to run my hands all over you. I want to lick your chest and trail kisses down your stomach. I want—”

Fox froze. His entire body locked down. “If you think you can touch me like you did when you stitched my leg, forget it. I was in pain—that same pain helped distract me while you stupidly touched and provoked me.”

“Provoked? You call sucking you until you exploded down my throat, provoked?” My body flushed with heat. “You wanted me to touch you. You craved my tongue and the warmth I could offer your frozen soul. You let me own you in that moment, Fox.”

“I was f**king weak and stupid.” Dashing a hand over his face, he growled, “You were lucky I had enough control to obey. But I’m done obeying anyone. I want to obey myself. I don’t want you to tell me what to do.” He punched himself in the chest. “No more, you hear me! No more f**king orders. I’m out.”

His tone had changed from pissed to belligerent like a child speaking to an authority figure. He didn’t talk about our fight; he spoke of yet another issue inside him. Something I would never understand.

“I’m not asking for your compliance. You don’t have to obey me. You were strong enough to seek pleasure. You were the one who controlled me in the greenhouse. Your fingers, your touch, you consumed me. You can do it again.”

A smidgen of fight left him and his shoulders sank. “I—” He looked away before gritting his teeth. “I don’t trust myself to try again. No matter how much I want to.” His eyes flew up, locking on my na**d br**sts. “Fuck, how I want to.”

My heart fluttered with delicate wings. He wanted me. He wanted what I did.

He wanted me all the while keeping his distance to protect me. My heart thudded harder, forcing more lustful blood through my system.

Fox stood glowering, chest pumping, the front of his trousers tenting with arousal. “Put your clothes back on.”

I shook my head. “I want to f**k you, that’s why I’m taking my clothes off. You should try it. It makes the whole experience that much more enjoyable.”

Picking up the knife on the bedspread, I deliberately cut the lace on my hips, letting my knickers flutter to the floor. Standing na**d before him, I murmured, “Let me undress you. Let me touch and kiss you. Let me see what you’re hiding beneath all that black.”

He shook his head. “Not going to happen. Your bruises are only just fading. What if I kill you next time? You’ve forgiven me for so much. Don’t ask me to hurt you more.”

Annoyance chased my need and I kneeled on the bed, crawling toward him. “I haven’t forgiven you. I’ll never get over you strangling me half to death. But I don’t care because you owe me. You owe me another orgasm. You owe me to let me try and help you.”

I reached the side of his bed, and he backed away. I climbed to my feet, advancing.

Keeping the same amount of distance between us, Fox moved backward, heading toward the seating area by the windows.

While we danced across the room, I gave myself over to my insanely foolish plan. My feet moved toward him as I began my idiotic seduction. “Working beside you makes my heart pound…” I swirled my fingertip on the swell of my breast, directly above my heart. “Here.”

Another step toward him. “Talking to you makes my breath come faster, dragging your smoky scent into my lungs…” I pressed my fist against my solar plexus. “Here.”

Fox waged a battle, his face flickering with so many thoughts. Every step that took me closer to him, I feared he’d snap and kill me, but I never stopped.

“Staring at your lips makes me fantasise about you kissing me.” I trailed my finger across my parted mouth. “Here.” Every part of me sparked and fizzled and pinpricked with need.

Fox shook his head, eyes shadowing with urges I didn’t comprehend.

Dropping my fingers, I tugged on the bar bell through my right nipple. “I want your mouth here.” My hand drifted lower, trickling over the chain, darting over my caesarean scar from Clara, and boldly going between my legs. “I want your tongue here.” I gasped as my finger swirled my clit.

The back of Fox’s knees connected against a chair; he slammed into it. His hand clutched at his erection, almost unconsciously, his gaze raking over me greedily.

My vision darkened as bubbles of lust sprang into a wrecking ball of desire. “I want to feel you deep inside me. I want to hear you groan and pant and moan as you plunge deeper and deeper.”

He swallowed hard, his throat contracted with fear. “I’m—you’re, f**k me, Hazel.” His snowy eyes flinted to dark grey, erupting a flurry of need in my stomach. “I want you so f**king much. Do you know how hard it’s been keeping my distance and then you go and practically beg me to plunge inside you? I have self-control but I’m not a saint.”

Wetness trickled at his confession; my heart burst with hope. “Please, Fox. I am begging. I need you to make me come again.”

His jaw locked as his hands fumbled at his fly. In a matter of seconds, he undid the material and shoved them around his thighs. His glistening, rock-hard erection sprang free, only to be captured by a brutal unforgiving hand.

He pumped himself demonically, eyes wild. “Touch yourself. Make yourself come.”

My fingers turned harsher on my skin, adopting the same violence Fox used on himself. “I’ll do anything you want if it means you’ll get na**d and make love to me.”

He groaned, hand slowing to a tantalizing stroke on his hard length. “I can’t.”

Biting my lip, I slid two fingers between my legs. My eyes swam with passion; I breathed, “You have to get na**d at some point. That’s what sex is, Fox. The joining of two bodies. The joy of exploring each other, touching, stroking, licking, tasting—”

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 c**k already glistening with a bead of pr**cum. My heart raced as his breathing picked up.

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

My ni**les 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 pu**y; 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, c**k 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, ni**les hardened painfully. “You’d lick my cl*t 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 br**sts, rolling my pebbled ni**les. 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 f**king perfection,” Fox grunted, working his c**k 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 br**sts to pu**y, 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 cl*t 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 f**ked 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 f**ked me.

His hard c**k 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 f**king 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 f**king 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.