Page 220 of Safe Word

And I had.

Fuck, had I ever.

And I would again. And again.

I could still taste her on my tongue, feel the scratch of her nails, the way her breath had caught right before she splintered beneath me. She was a contradiction – sugar and venom, curves and steel. She fought me even as she yielded where it counted. That made the chase so much better – a fucking high.

And Christ, I loved breaking her.

Not in the way that weak fuck before me had tried to. Not in the way that left bruises in places meant for affection.

I broke her in the way that had us both begging for more. In the way that had her whispering my name like a confession.

But love?

I didn’t do love. I wasn’t entirely sure I knew how to.

Not the way she deserved. Not the way she needed.

I wanted her. I fucking needed her. But I was well aware I wasn’t a man for happy endings. I was made for violence and sin, for bloodied knuckles and things I had no intention repenting for. And she?

She was the one thing that made me wish I could be something more.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders as the vision of her sleeping in my arms burned. In me, over me, through me. Incinerating everything I thought I was.

The way she’d looked at me just a few minutes ago – wrecked and undone, but defiant as hell – had made the feral arsehole in me go rampant.

Because she’d thought I would let those sins slide.

Fuck… I could lie to myself all I wanted. But I knew. I fucking knew.

She was mine. I was hers.

And though I didn’t know how to love, I couldn’t get my claws out of her. Even if it tore us apart.

If she ever forgot that, I’d be there to remind her. Thoroughly.

When her breathing slowed, evening out into that telltale bliss-drunk daze, I wrenched my gaze away before I did something reckless – again. Like dragging her back under me and wrecking her until she couldn’t stand for a week.

The silence pulsed in my ears, taking me back into the real world.

I slid off the bed, walking over to the battlefield of clothing I’d torn from her earlier. My shirt was a wrinkled casualty. My jeans hung half-open, and as I buttoned them up, my gaze glided – unfortunately – back to the bed.

Which was a monumental mistake. Because there she was, lying face down, her perky bare ass streaked with the evidence of my earlier punishment like the sweetest fucking painting I had ever done.

My dick jerked – an impatient bastard with no sense of restraint.

I had to get out before I ended up filling that ass.

As if on cue, my phone lit up, the vibration stark against the stillness of the space.

Vinnie: Meet you at the office. Issues.

Great. Well… the night was still young. I couldn’t imagine what other shitty things it had in store for me. But I was heading out anyway. There was an itch I needed to scratch.

With the last of my self-control, I made myself move towards the door as I collected my shoes on the way, and step into the hallway. The house was steeped in heavy silence, the kind that stretched thick between the walls housing people who had seen too much.

My bare feet didn’t make a sound against the cool wooden floor as I padded downstairs, heading for the door.