Tossing and turning, I try my hardest to fall asleep. After about an hour, I give up, accepting that it’s just not going to happen.

I’ve been through too much tonight and my brain won’t stop replaying it over and over again. I keep reliving Ivan’s cold touch. Andrew’s smoldering eyes.

And Lucifer pointing a gun at my head.

Sliding my hand under my pillow, I check to make sure my necklace is still where I left it. Then I sit up. Carefully, I pull the blanket back without disturbing Abigail and slide out of bed.

My feet hit the floor and my toes sink into the plush carpet as I stand.

I take a moment to tuck the blanket around Abigail and resist the urge to smooth her hair back.

Quietly, I tiptoe my way across the room and open the door.

The hallway is pitch black. I pause for a moment, hoping my eyes will adjust to the dark, but every light in the house must be off.

I can’t see my own hand in front of my face, and I should probably just go back to bed, but it feels like some unseen force is tugging me, urging me to step into the dark.

Pressing my palm against the wall, I use touch to guide me down the hall. Carefully, I slide my foot forward, ensuring the floor is there before I move.

I focus so much attention on walking that I don’t realize I’m not alone.

I make it to the next door when I’m suddenly grabbed.

“Where are you going?” Andrew growls.

Grabbing me roughly, he spins me around and pins me against the wall.

So terrified I can’t scream, only gasp, my world spins and my eyes strain against the darkness, trying to make out his face.

It’s so dark I can’t see him, only feel him.

His warmth.

His angry energy.

His menace.

“Are you trying to run away?” he asks harshly, his hands tightening around my wrists and pinching my skin.

“N—n—no,” I stammer, my heart beating wildly behind my ribs. Of course it would look that way but, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So?” he rumbles ominously and takes a step forward, pressing me into the wall with his chest.

The length of his hard body presses against my body and alarm bells start going off inside of my head as he cages me in.

One wrong word and this could be it…

“I… I just wanted to get a drink of water,” I squeak, trying to ignore how warm he feels.

Seriously, he’s burning hot. The heat from his chest is scorching my breasts through my dress.

“Is that all?” he asks, his voice softening, and his fingers start to loosen around my wrists.

Thinking we’ve cleared up the little misunderstanding, I start to relax a little and take a moment to catch my breath before answering, “Yes.”

“You weren’t...” His knee nudges at my knees. “Trying to find your way to my room?”

“Of course not!” I gasp and lock my knees together, denying him entrance.

What the hell is he doing?

He pulls on my wrists suddenly, yanking them up, and stretching me out on the wall like I’m on a vertical rack.

I can’t squeeze my legs together stretched out on my tiptoes like this.

His knee spreads my knees easily now and then he’s fitting himself between my thighs. I’m so shocked, so disturbed, I freeze up, unsure of what to do.

Will he hurt me if I fight him? Or is he counting on my submission?

Warm breath caresses my face, stroking over my nose, my cheeks, and then puffs against my lips.

“That’s a shame,” he states softly.

The darkness seems to shimmer around us. I stare hard, wishing I could see his face. Wishing I had more than just the sound of his voice to go on.

“It is?” I ask tentatively, hoping I’m mistaken and he’s not meaning what I think he’s meaning.

“Yes,” he says huskily, his voice deepening.

“H…h…how so?”

“Because I want you.”

I jerk as if he just hit me and feel a spike of desire slam into my core. He wants me? Why does that revelation both frighten and excite me?

God, I’m so fucked up.

The longer he presses against me, the more I’m physically responding to it. My nipples tighten and tingle against the press of his chest.

His hips lock against my hips and then my core clenches as I feel a hard bulge pressing against my mons.

“Please,” I groan, trying to arch away from him. Trying to escape the intense sensation. “Don—”

His mouth covers my mouth, smothering the rest of my plea.

I start to struggle now but it’s too little, too late. I’ve already allowed myself to be lured into the trap.

I try to twist my face away. I try to rip my wrists free from his grip. But the more I fight him, the more it seems to turn him on.

The more the snare tightens.

His huge body crushes me against the wall.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he moans before his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

His tongue touches my tongue and all the little nerves in my body light up in response.

Why do I like this? Why do I want to pull him closer instead of pushing him away?

Is it because it’s been so long since I’ve been touched? Or is it because I can’t see him in the dark?

I don’t know. All I know is that I feel like I’ve been barely treading water and now I’m being pulled under the surface.

I’m drowning in sensation.

In his warmth. In his presence.

His mouth slants over my mouth, over and over. With each pull, with each suckle, I feel like I lose a little more of myself.

He’s breaking me down, kiss by kiss.

And before I know it, I’m kissing him back.

My tongue desperately seeks out his tongue. My body strains and stretches towards his body.

I arch and moan into his mouth.

He rolls his hips forward, his trapped erection grinding against my clit.

Logic, reason, and conscious thought are all lost, replaced by a need I’ve never felt with Ivan. My brain is being lulled into a false sense of security by the slow building throb.

It could all be merely a survival reflex but I can’t seem to stop.

After being so close to death, I just want to live.

Something buried deep inside of me wants this.

I have the strongest desire to be joined with him. To be beneath him.

“Amy,” he groans, and to hear him say my name like that makes me feel so strong, so powerful. “Wrap your legs around me.”

I shouldn’t. This is insane.

“Amy,” he growls when I don’t instantly obey.

And that growl, god, it does things to me.

Wicked, sinful things.

Andrew, he’s not a good man. I have no delusions about that. And what he’s doing to Abigail and me, there’s really no excuse for it.

But he wants me, and it feels so good to be wanted.

My knees shake and my arms ache in this stretched out position. If I had any sense, I’d try to get away…

Not wrap my legs around him. Not give in to the moment.

But fuck it, I’m living in this moment.

I could be dead tomorrow.

If this is my last night on Earth, at least I’ll be in the arms of a beautiful, dangerous man.

And if he’s ordered to kill me… well, maybe just maybe he’ll think twice about it.

I wrap my legs around his waist.

Releasing my wrists, his arms snake around my back. His hands grab my ass and he hefts me up. Then he spins us around and I’m grabbing him.

I cling to him as he carries me through the dark hall, into a dark room, and lowers me down on something soft.

Now that we’re in a bed, all bets seem to be off.

His hands grab at my dress, yanking it up and over my head. My hands grab at his shirt, my clumsy fingers fumbling with his buttons for a moment before I decide to just tear it open.

I hope that shirt was expensive.

With a chuckle, his hands slide behind me and he unsnaps my bra. Then his mouth covers my mouth, his kiss hungry and desperate as he pushes my bra down and cups my breasts with his big hands.

Groaning, I arch into his grip, squirming against the bed. All thoughts of removing the rest of his clothing forgotten.

He squeezes me, his thick fingers wrapping around me. Constricting me with the most delicious pressure.

I cry out, throwing my head back as my core clenches, hard.

Taking his sweet time, he plays with me. His hands molding me, reshaping me.

Driving me insane.

And just when I think I can stand no more, he covers my nipple with his wet hot mouth.

“Andrew,” I gasp as he starts to suckle hungrily, melting in his arms.

Turning his head from side to side, he lavishes each breast, worshipping them with his lips, teeth, and tongue.

Then he begins to push me down.

My limbs weak, I go down easily, unable to put up much a fight.

His mouth leaves my breasts, kissing a wet path down my stomach.

As he slides my panties down my hips, and the cool air hits my wet sex, I try to sit up in alarm.

“Amy,” he growls and pushes me back down.

I thought I wanted to do this but now that we’ve gotten to this point I’m not so sure…

My panties slide over my ankles and then he spreads my legs wide.

“Wait…” I cry out but he ignores me.

Grabbing me by the hips, I feel his breath against my thigh and then his tongue is sliding through my folds.

“Oh god,” I groan, my hips trying to jerk out of his hands.

“No,” he growls angrily and takes another swipe at my folds.

“Fuck,” I whimper, almost bucking him off as his tongue slides up and down.

My pulse is pounding so hard I’m seeing stars.

Then his mouth completely covers my clit and I lose it. Suckling just like he did on my breasts, his mouth pulls on my clit, bringing me just to the brink of orgasm.

Then his mouth goes slack.

“What?!” I cry out in dismay, and feel him chuckle against my swollen, sensitive flesh. “Why did you stop?”

He pushes up from the bed, looming above me in the darkness.

I blink my eyes, and much to my dismay they start to adjust to the dark. There’s just enough light coming through a window to light him up.

I watch him unbuckle his pants and then shove them down. “If you want to come, you’ll have to come on my cock.”

He shoves his boxer briefs down and then the biggest, thickest cock I’ve ever laid eyes on springs upwards.

Gulping, I stare at him and then slowly begin to crawl backward.

I’ve made a mistake. A very big mistake.

If he tries to thrust that thing inside of me he’s going to split me in half.

Reaching down, he grabs me by the ankles and drags me back down the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I…I…” I stammer, trying to think up a good excuse.

“You’re not afraid, are you, Amy?” he grins down at me.

I shake my head at the same time my hands come up, pushing on his chest as he comes down on top of me.

He covers me, his weight heavy and solid.

“Good,” he says, grabbing up my hands. His fingers slide through my fingers, squeezing almost tenderly, before he pins them above my head. “Because I would never hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me?” I blink up at him in surprise.

Slowly, he shakes his head.

How does that make any sense?

Before I can question him further, he bends down and presses a wet kiss against my lips.

Fingers tightening around my fingers, the rest of his weight comes down, crushing me against the bed.

His leg slides between my legs, spreading me open. Then something thick and hard pushes against my sex.

“Wait,” I mumble into his mouth. “I’m not on any birth control…”

“Good,” he groans and pushes forward.

Inch by slow inch, he eases himself inside, filling me up.

Oh my god.

He’s so damn big… if I wasn’t already soaking wet he would have split me wide open.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts, bottoming out.

I’m so full, so overwhelmed, I can’t respond.

Voice strained, he remarks, “You feel like a fucking virgin.”

He begins to slide out, and the sensation is so sharp, so strong, I want to beg him to stop.

But then he pushes back in and all I want to do is beg him to do it again.

“How long has it been, Amy?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to talk right now, I just want to feel.

In and out, he glides. Stretching me. Touching every little sensitive spot inside of me.

Reawakening my aching throb with a vengeance.

“Amy,” he growls. “I asked you a question…”

Deeper and deeper he pushes, my body beginning to adjust to the sheer size of him.

“How long,” he grunts, his teeth nipping my bottom lip.

“Years,” I groan. Amazed I could get that much out.

“How many years?” he presses, slamming forward and grinding himself against my clit.

Trapped beneath his weight, I writhe and squirm against the bed as he uses his body to drive me to the brink of blissful madness.

Then, just as my orgasm is within reach, he stops.

“How many years, Amy?”

Desperate for my release, I clench down on him and cry out, “Four or five! I don’t know! Before Abigail was born.”

“Good girl,” he grunts and starts pounding his cock inside me like he’s trying to pound me through the bed.

And then, quite suddenly, I’m tumbling over the edge of my release and shattering into a million pieces.

My fingers squeeze his fingers, aching to grab him. Aching to sink my nails into his skin.

Muscles locking up, my insides melt and I feel like I’m gushing all over him.

“Oh fuck,” he cries out in surprise. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he repeats over and over again as my pussy spasms, milking him.

Sucking him in.

A moment later he roars and I’m filled with the most delicious warmth.

Grinding his cock deep, he pours himself inside of me until he has nothing left to give. Then he collapses on top of me.

Spent.

Crushed beneath his weight, I begin to struggle for air. Sensing my distress, he rolls off of me, giving me room to breathe.

Side by side, we stare up at the ceiling, panting as we catch our breath.

The euphoria of the orgasm begins to wear off. Reality comes crashing back in.

Did I really just do that?

I glance over at him.

Yep, I just did that.

Fuck.

Panicking, I start to jump up but he must have anticipated it. Grabbing me, he drags me close and wraps his arms around me like a vise.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks gruffly, trapping me against his side.

“I was going to return to my room…”

“This is your room now.”

“But…”

“No buts, Amy,” he says, his arms tightening around me. “You made your choice. You’re mine now.”