Ivy braced the upper half of her body upright on stiff arms. Her hair was a disaster, crushed roses and curls streaming in a waterfall over her shoulders. A lamp on a table beside the bed, along with a low fire in the massive fireplace, provided barely enough light to illuminate the room.

The heavy masculinity of the space was confusing, although the silver and midnight blue colors of the bed clothing and drapes seemed familiar in their pairing. Where am I?

Her gaze landed on him. Sucking in a breath of absolute horror, a dazed consciousness slammed through the fuzziness enveloping Ivy. Sebastian stood by the fireplace, half-undressed. His chest was bare, the broad expanse of muscles stacked like molten iron.

“What have you done?” Sloppy with panic and champagne, her words slurred together. “Have you gone mad?”

“Most certainly.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smile as he sipped from the glass he held.

The slabs of his abdomen rippled with his movements, gleaming gold in the light of the fire. Although she shouldn’t, Ivy stared as if hypnotized.

She forced herself to stand then just as quickly sank back down. The room actually tilted side to side, a rudderless schooner in a hurricane. At its far end Sebastian was a lost cork in an endless ocean, bobbing with relentless energy. Watching him was both fascinating and nausea inducing.

A bedpost would provide a sturdy anchor. Moving carefully, Ivy scooted to the end of the bed to wrap her arms around one of the massive supports.

“You monster. I d-demand you return me to the Faringdon’s ball at once. You’ve no right to bring me here…no right!” To her ears, the words jumbled together in an incoherent mess. Leaning her forehead against the cool wood of the post, she squeezed her eyes tight, determined to regain control by sheer willpower alone.

When she dared to reopen them, everything seemed to have changed course. The room now spun in slow, ever narrowing circles and in the middle of these spinning circles, she sat. A target.

Sebastian did not move. Leaning a shoulder against the corner of the mantle, the glow from the flames illuminated only half his face. Shadows danced across his cheekbones and lips and he…he...Ivy swallowed hard, nearly moaning aloud. God help her, he was as dangerously dark and exquisitely handsome as ever.

Seeing him was more devastating than she imagined it would be, her heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, the splinters painful and stabbing every raw nerve. Bloody hell, she could not tear her eyes away from him. Because he looked thinner, his features a tiny bit haggard. Was it just the dark stubble of a beard making it seem so? Grazing his chin, shadowing his cheeks, giving him the air of a pirate. She hated that his dusky eyes gave no inkling as to his thoughts.

“Do you know what those bastards planned for you tonight, sweetness?” His brow arched high. “Do you? You would not have enjoyed it. And were you fortunate, you would not have remembered it. I’ve seen the damage done to their playthings before. They do not play nice at all. They would have torn you apart. Although with Lady Wesley to rein them in, they might have shown restraint, just to have their fun again in the future.” Jealousy colored his words, turning them ugly and hurtful.

Ivy’s tongue was thick in her mouth. “I’ve no idea what you are talking about.” Licking her lips, she wished for something, anything to drink.

When he stalked toward her, she shrank back, but he only handed her a tumbler then resumed his stance by the fireplace. The distance appeared necessary as his hands clenched into fists.

“My dear, they could hardly resist your charms.” The words slapped her - a cold, hard drawl. “You were making it so damnably easy for them. Hell, each one of those jackals would have cocked up between your lovely legs tonight.” His gaze was contemplative and cruel. “Or, maybe you hoped Landon would claim you. He wanted to. He tried to. He had you in his hands for a moment. Did you like him touching you? Have you a taste for dukes now? He’s soon to come into his title. God knows he suffered no qualms in the past when stealing what is mine. Tell me, Ivy. Would you have let him fuck you?”

Befuddled by his calm demeanor, Ivy swallowed every drop in the glass he gave her.

The brandy scorched its way down her throat until her eyes watered. Then she choked and sputtered, the horrible ugliness of his words sinking in. Sebastian believed she wanted another man? After what he had done? Disgust washed through her, thick, hot, heavy. Without thinking of the consequences Ivy hurled the tumbler at him.

Ducking the hopeless aim, his brutal laughter rang out as the crystal crashed behind his head. Shards of glass tinkled musically to the floor in a harmless waterfall.

Fueled by something so black and searing it was unrecognizable, Ivy lurched from the bed. In a clumsy attack, she swung fists at his cruel grin, but Sebastian captured her wrists with one large hand, holding them with appalling ease in the small of her back.

“You bastard,” she gasped. “You’ve no right to question me. You do not own me and you never will. I will bed every single one of them if I wish! Every single one! It’s what’s expected of me, isn’t it? A woman like me?”

Sebastian’s eyes turned darker than the night around them as she flung his words at him. His gaze pinned her, drinking her in. Like early moonlight frost, the gown swirled, illuminating Ivy’s features. “Shut up, damn you.” He gave her a rough shake. “You think my hunger for you is satisfied? That my desire is quenched? Far from it, little hellion and I’ll be damned if another tries to take what is mine.”

“I’m not yours!” Ivy cried out. “I’m not! I don’t belong to anyone! I-I hate you.” Her struggles were already fading as brandy coursed through sluggish veins to blend with champagne. Waves of dizziness rose and fell. She could not allow him to be stronger than her now. Please, not now. “I hate you!”

“No, you only wish you did. And it wouldn't matter anyway. I can't keep myself from you and you can't keep yourself from me,” he snarled. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling until Ivy had no choice but to look into his eyes. A white rose crumpled in his fist, crushed petals falling to the floor. “How many of them have you slept with, Ivy? And who? Tell me. Now.”

“I cannot count the number.” Let him decipher the meaning of that, if he could. If he dared.

“Who was it?” The question was a roar. “If one of those bastards hurt you…”

“Not a single one took me by force,” Ivy sneered. “That distinction is yours alone. The only man to go so far. The only one who had to.”

Pinpoints of unholy fire flared in Sebastian’s eyes as he realized she twisted what had happened between them and molded it the situation now.

“Goddamn it,” he breathed. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Countess.”

Were it not for the tight grip he held on her hair, Ivy would have tossed her head, beyond caring for her safety. “A game I am winning. Shall we place it on the books? We will lay our wagers and I’ll have you mucking a hundred stalls when it’s all over…”

Sebastian gave a strangled curse, a muscle ticking in his jaw as her taunt hit home. Lust and anger drove him now, all traces of civility melting away.

Hooking his fingers into the top tier of the diamond necklace, Sebastian used it to jerk her closer until their faces were mere inches apart, the scent of crushed roses swirling between them. Where his knuckles rested flush with the hollow of her throat, Ivy’s pulse beat with frantic thumps. He controlled her as a master would an unruly pet. “Careful, love. I am a very poor loser.”

“You told me once you rarely lose anything,” she retorted just before her teeth sank into his bare shoulder.

He flung her off with a grunt of surprised pain. Ivy staggered away. With the newfound freedom, she slipped off her shoes, using them as weapons to hurl at his head. While not quick enough to outpace him in such an inebriated state, she nevertheless turned toward the bedroom door.

Dodging the missiles, Sebastian caught her about the waist. He flung her with unceremonious disregard onto the bed, pinning her to the mattress before she could bounce up. One of his hands anchored hers high above her head while she bucked like a wild mare to dislodge the crushing weight of his body.

“Bloodthirsty little bitch.” His eyes blazed with silver fire. “Holy hell, I will tame you…I will get my fill of you. If it kills me, if it is the last goddamn thing I do…”

A stream of colorful oaths poured from Ivy in response. When Sebastian abruptly rolled half off her, she stared in open-mouth surprise, silenced by the success of her efforts.

The relief was short-lived. His hand snaked between them to disengage the concealed hooks in the bodice of her gown. Ivy flailed and cursed but the bodice parted into two halves. In a matter of seconds only the grace of the corset covered her.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed in appreciation. Her breasts swelled to the top of the undergarment; the exquisite lace and ivy trimmings quivering with her anger and gulps for air, the diamond necklace glittering like drops of ice on her warm skin. With an impatient movement and a quick twisting of her arms, the entire gown was swept away. Ivy cried out in horrified distress, left only in stockings and roses, diamonds and that damned corset which would have given a monk plenty of reasons to question celibacy.

Ivy was far from vain but hoping her appearance would not inflame a man’s passions was foolish. Red-hot rage flowed like a river, over and through her. Sebastian had no right to see her like this…no right! But there was no stopping his gaze from devouring her, burning her, from memorizing every detail of her body. She could only tremble and endure it.

Sebastian seemed almost dazed when his eyes finally rose to clash with hers. “Goddamnit, Ivy. You would tempt a saint.”

“You are hurting me,” was her hissed response.

“Am I?” Sebastian blinked, his words softly chilling. And gentle. “Maybe I want to hurt you. Maybe this is the only way to handle you and what lies between us. Or perhaps this is some horrible form of self-torture, something I deserve…”

A flash of pain stabbed Ivy. Memories of teasing one another during a game of whist, laughing over bumblebees, and soft, hot, soul-searching kisses by a babbling stream bombarded her. Waltzes by moonlight, playing piano for him. The sweet gifts he gave her, the thoughtful gestures no one else probably noticed. She recalled every instance he held her hand tight. The occasions he steadied her on the steps into Kinley House because a sheet of ice lay over them. She remembered when he tugged her to him, her head resting against his shoulder in sleepy contentment coming back from seeing a play. The quirk in his lips whenever he called her “little butterfly.” And she relived each and every kiss they’d shared, starting with the first disastrous one in her music room.

A hysterical sob caught in Ivy’s throat. She tried turning her head but he would not allow it, would not let her escape so easily.

“You are driving me to goddamn madness. Do you realize that?” Sebastian's voice lowered, became softer. “I’ve said things that I should never…done terrible things. Dear God, what are you doing to me? What have I done to you?”

Frustrated regret shaded his words, regret Ivy did not have time to dwell on as his mouth closed over hers in familiar, searing possessiveness. Panicked, she kicked at him, but he simply threw one muscled leg across both of hers. For a long time, with exquisite, beautiful roughness, he simply kissed her.

Only when she stilled beneath him, limbs quivering, did his approach become gentle. Nibbling at her lips, sucking her mouth into the heated vortex of his own, his tongue delved in and out, stroking persuasively. The grip on her wrists loosened, not enough to release her, but enough so he would not bruise her.

Ivy struggled to hold herself from him, to hold tight to her anger, her fury. She tried, oh how she tried, to ignore the shivers vibrating through her, to ignore the awful trembling in the pit of her stomach, the thrill when his tongue coaxed hers to mate with his. Each time Sebastian lifted his mouth from hers, she turned her head, determined he would not kiss her again. But he was stubborn and relentless and she was drunk and tired, heartbroken. He wore her defenses down, and she had missed him too much to remain frozen forever in his embrace.

Nuzzling behind her ear, his teeth raked a sensitive spot where the line of her neck met the curve of her collarbone. She inhaled sharply, hating him when her pulse jumped in instant response. When his mouth drifted to her breasts, her low moan could not be contained. The last bit of flimsy protection the corset provided drifted away, magically disposed of. How he accomplished it she did not know, but with the exception of stockings, the last of the roses tangled in her hair and the diamond necklace, she was bare.

“Shhh…” Sebastian’s lips burned everywhere they pressed, his words a litany of desperate hunger sucking her in. “Quiet now. Easy…easy. Sweetness, my beautiful little butterfly. Let me touch you, Ivy, yes, yes, that’s it. Let me have you…let me love you. This is madness, what is between us...a fire that cannot be extinguished. A thirst I can't seem to quench. Somehow, you’ve destroyed me and I cannot bear it. God, I’ve missed you so terribly.”

One hand roamed her body, gliding, touching wherever he desired. Easing the weight of his leg away, he traced an intricate pattern on the soft skin of her knees, trailing his fingers up between her thighs and Ivy helplessly, hopelessly, opened to him.

It was a losing battle to the warmth of the room, the heat of his kisses, the beguiling scent of lush blooms. A sly lassitude stole her will to fight him, easing Sebastian’s path. She floated, weightless and dizzy. She was supposed to be angry. She must attempt to free herself, but she found it difficult to muster the required fury when sapped of all her strength.

As his mouth closed over the peach perfection of one breast, Ivy twisted against his grip in one last act born of desperation, moaning in despair at her own weakness.

Sebastian growled against the honey softness of her flesh, applying the same attention to the other breast until she was breathless and straining against him. Unable to fight him any longer, she returned his kiss when he claimed her mouth again. His fingers danced lightly over the flesh between her thighs, finding her wet and velvety. When he slid one devilish finger into her depths, her stomach clenched. The sensation was almost unbearable. He stretched and filled her, pushing deep to slide against a secret part of her. His mouth remained locked on hers, mimicking the drawing and stroking motion of his finger until Ivy dissolved in knife-sharp pleasure.

There was no need to hold her prisoner now. Melting against Sebastian in a tangle of legs and arms, warm, adrift, every bone in her body disintegrated, her climax shattering her with its intensity. She was nothing more than a pliable doll, to be toyed with as he wished.

He rose from the bed to tug her stockings off, tossing them aside so they fluttered to the Turkish carpet like ivory feathers. Rustling noises drifted to her ears as if from far away and when Sebastian’s nude body covered hers, Ivy was not shocked. He fisted one large hand in her hair, pulling her face to his. Kissing her with a restrained roughness, he slid between her legs, and she tasted the sweet bitterness of brandy on his lips.

He branded her, flames of fire licking her flesh everywhere their skin touched. The muscled length of his legs parting hers was strange and thrilling, the coarse hair of his thighs slightly abrasive against her smooth skin. Dreading the pain felt the first time, her knees instinctively bent as he fit against her. She tensed, waiting for him to thrust inside her.

Sebastian immediately stilled. He removed the red rose from the tangles of her hair with careful fingers. His eyes never leaving hers, he deliberately tore the blossom apart, cascading the fragrant petals over her breasts and stomach.

Ivy’s heart jerked, stopped, then found its beat. Her ritual with the roses. He knew why she did it, understood the unspoken message directed only to him. She wanted to sob. She wanted to scream. To laugh.

She wanted him to never let her go.

Splaying her fingers against the hard plane of his chest, she neither pulled him close nor pushed him away. She simply waited, covered in rose petals. A log in the fire cracked apart, the shower of sparks highlighting the depths of his eyes. His hips tilted to the entrance of her body and Ivy swallowed convulsively. His shaft felt impossibly large and hard against her tense softness. How did that ever fit inside me?

“I hurt you before,” he whispered. “My poor darling girl. Forgive me.”

Ivy’s eyes fluttered shut. Did he speak of when he took her virginity and broke her heart? Or earlier tonight, when his cruel words lashed her and striped her soul? Then she could not think at all as he slid with excruciating deliberateness, with heart-stopping finality, full length into her. Once sheathed to the hilt, Sebastian paused, a shudder of a breath escaping him. His arms trembled slightly.

When he took her on her father’s desk, the act hurt so terribly. But even then, that terrible night, a confusing compulsion to keep him inside her, to have him slide deeper, made the possession feel strangely beautiful. That same bewildering urge overcame Ivy now as Sebastian’s body stretched hers. The stinging pain she felt was not as sharp as she remembered, not as painful as before; in fact, the discomfort was short-lived, quickly melting to become something else. Something wicked and dazzling and just beyond her reach. The rich fullness of him inside her ignited every nerve ending she possessed and ones she never knew existed. Invasion drove all coherent thought from her brain. Unexpected ripples of ecstasy cascaded throughout her limbs. Shameful how easily she succumbed to his caresses. Later, when she was sober, she would hate herself for it, but right now, pleasure swamped her until she was drowning in it.

Seconds ticked away as he waited. And waited. Until Ivy realized he waited for her.

A twinge pulled at her, tugging at the depths of her stomach, the very depths of her soul. Whether it was the alcohol or his touch, or both, her senses reeled in a kaleidoscope of intense delight. A tiny portion of her brain still howled in protest but the last bit of willpower to resist evaporated. She would not stop him.

She shifted, her hips lifting in a tentative gesture. Sebastian’s sigh was almost imperceptible. His dark head dipped to her breast. Easing one nipple into the moist heat of his mouth, he rolled his tongue over the peak, biting down, gently at first, then with increasing pressure. And Ivy was lost.

Clutching at his broad shoulders, her palms smoothed over the rippling muscles. His body joined with hers felt so different from the other times when he brought her to a shattering peak with his fingers. This, this possession felt more intense, more powerful. More everything.

“Sebastian.” Her moan was soft. “Yes...”

Sebastian's dark head lifted, a flame of triumph glittering in the depths of his eyes. Ivy didn’t care.

“You are mine, Ivy, although you may believe otherwise.” His words curled around her. “I won’t let you go now. You belong to me. Damn you…damn us both…damn this crazy world and everyone in it, but you belong to me. Do you understand? You’ve always been mine. You always will be. Mine.