As soon as we were in the safety of our home, I lost my shit, slamming my fists against the nearest wall with a thundering bang that sent Flower, who had come to greet us, skittering under a table to peer out with wide eyes.

Jonah's hands closed over my shoulders and massaged them firmly. "I know, babe, it's not easy seeing something like that up close and personal."

"It's not that," I said, feeling guilty about scaring Flower, and even guiltier for not saving Sara. "I've seen people die. You keep forgetting that, Jonah. I know normal people should be upset by death, but you and me? We're not normal. We've seen too much."

Jonah pulled me away from the wall and guided me to the couch. "You can't say you're not upset by Sara's death."

He tucked me under his shoulder in a protective position, but it was too much. I wanted him near, but I couldn't handle the weight of his arm over my shoulders along with all of the emotion weighing down on me right now.

"You're right. I am upset. But not in a… a normal way. I should have seen Chad sooner. I should have shouted. I'm a damn shifter. I can move faster than normal people whether in wolf form or not. I should have picked a better meeting place."

"That's a lot of should haves," Jonah said. "And a lot of blame."

"Who else is to blame?" I said, bile itching at the back of my throat.

"I would start with the man who actually killed her, for one."

Jonah's tone was frustratingly calm and reasonable. It did nothing to ease my mood. I'd seen plenty of shit, and nothing before had sent me into the black mood I now found myself. I wanted to rip the world to pieces. I wanted to see Chad Deamer's eyes as their light faded, and know that he knew that I was the cause of his end.

A soft touch feathered over my hair and I jerked away, feeling like an ass at Jonah's hurt expression. Immediately, I grabbed his hand and kissed it.

"I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me," he said, though his tone indicated that wasn't the full truth. "I just want to help."

"Are you happy now?" I asked.

He blinked in surprise. "I'm afraid I don't see anything to be happy about."

"Because I came around to your way of thinking. We're going in hard and heavy. Shifter justice all the way. Fuck the man, fuck the system." The dark in my soul was a roiling, blistering slime that was seeping into everything I touched. Yet another thing to hate myself for.

Jonah suddenly pinned me to the couch. "Let's get one thing straight, Matthew. I would never be happy for anything to cause you pain. Ever. Do you understand that?"

It felt good to feel his strength, to feel his control. Just this small expression of intensity sparked a need in me that craved more.

"Maybe I need you to make me understand," I said, hating the pleading note in my voice.

Jonah's face softened, and he leaned down to kiss me gently, but I twisted, throwing him onto the floor. I rolled with him and landed on top, straddling him.

"Is the baby okay?" he asked immediately, hands pressing against my rounded belly.

"I don't need gentle, Jonah. I need to be used."

His mouth pressed in a determined line. "You're pregnant. I'm not going to be rough with you."

I stood in frustration and started walking away. I didn't know where. There weren't many other rooms I could go. "I can take it. But you don't trust—"

Jonah suddenly scooped me in his arms and I flailed wildly as he carried me down the hall to our room.

"I will not be rough with you," he repeated. "You think I don't trust you? I trust you completely. No one else has buried themselves so deeply in my heart and soul as you. But I value you more than I value myself, and I will not put you or the child at risk. If you need me to be in control, I can be in control. But if you want me to throw you around, you've got a couple of months to wait."

The tone in Jonah's voice had given me a raging hard-on, and the idea of him actually dominating me with no holds barred didn't help. Jonah laid me on the bed and started stripping. My hands went to my belt and he barked out a sharp, "No."

I froze.

"That's my job tonight. If I need to bind your wrists, I will, but only if you make me."

Was that a challenge in his eyes? I had to test it. My hands had barely touched the metal buckle before Jonah was on me, dressed only in his shirt, his fingers wrapped around my wrists like iron cuffs.

"Bindings it is," he purred, and somehow there was a silk tie in his hands. Within moments, my hands were bound securely. Even I, who had spent three months studying knots and all the ways to get out of wrist bindings, couldn't break free. Not that they were uncomfortable—but no matter which way I twisted, I couldn't get a grasp on anything that would let me escape.

I felt my anxiety start to drift away from me.

"I always wondered if tying my partner up would work for me…" Jonah said, mostly to himself.

"So this is working for you?" I asked.

Jonah stripped my pants and boxers off and raised one eyebrow. "Looks like it's working for you."

There was certainly no hiding that this bondage thing was definitely working for me. I tried to reach forward, to grab the bottom of Jonah's shirt and tug it up, but he dodged my grip, pushing my arms above my head.

"I was probably a little impatient." He ran one finger down my t-shirt, and it snagged at the fabric. Hell, his claws were popping out. This was definitely working for both of us. "It would have been better if I'd stripped you before binding you. Oh well."

In one strong motion, he ripped my shirt down the front with his free hand, exposing my chest and stomach. Jonah growled in pleasure, and bent to kiss his way down my chest, down my round belly, and then slowly, so slowly, licked his way down to my cock.

I had wanted rough and ragged—something to match the wounded state of my soul—but Jonah wasn't a fighter at heart. He preferred answering a puzzle to shooting a gun, and apparently tonight I was his puzzle. He'd taken what I thought I wanted and turned it sideways to what I needed. I didn't need violence, I needed to give up my control.

Even while I thought I was dying, I had still maintained a sense of control with the knowledge that my actions would lead to good. Today, they had led to my friend's death.

But I could trust Jonah. I slipped into a mindless space of obedience and need, craving Jonah and only Jonah as he worshipped my belly, teasing my dick and hole, kissing every inch of my body, whispering words of love until I had no other choice than to believe him.

Slowly, the darkness receded. No matter what was happening in the outside world, no matter how many mistakes I might make, right here, with this beautiful, strange, dear man, I was loved and safe.

When Jonah slid into me, I was so in tune and sensitive to my body that I swore I felt every vein and swell of muscle. I gasped, nonsense babbling out of my mouth as he thrust in and out of me, answering me with words of love. I twisted and strained, desperate to lay my hands on him, but still he held my hands above me, stretching my body out, revealing its every flaw to him, and yet he still told me how strong I was, how handsome, how perfect.

I cried as I came, the sensation not the lightning burst I was used to, but like being trapped under a wave, a relentless sweep of water, circling over me, pushing me down, letting me float up momentarily, and then burying me once more.

I was not ashamed of my tears. They were tears of freedom. Of being stripped completely bare in front of my mate, my lover, and being declared more than enough.

As soon as Jonah reached his release inside me, he jerked at the tie binding my hands and it fell free. I clasped my arms around him as if he were a buoy in a wide, empty ocean, my only hope of survival. He turned us to our sides, locked together, but comfortable.

He wiped a drip of sweat off my forehead. "Feel better?"

I sighed, my eyes threatening to fall shut, but I didn't want to lose sight of him. I wanted to hold on to this moment, this perfect, shining moment in a dark sea, for as long as I could.

"That wasn't what you asked for," Jonah said wryly. "But was it satisfactory?"

I laughed, my belly jiggling against his. "You keep surprising me, Shakespeare."

He smirked. "Not bad for a research nerd."

My eyes had almost closed, but flew open at that. "You're going to have to show me your resources someday."

Jonah closed his eyes with a satisfied smile. "All I'm going to say is that Tumblr is a magical place."

A soft meow drew our attention to the door, where Flower poked her head tentatively in, as if asking if it were safe now.

“I’m sorry, princess,” I said. “Come here, Flower. Come on, kitty kitty.”

She padded softly into the room, then bounded across the carpet onto the bed all at once.

“You are not letting that cat come between us while we’re canoodling,” Jonah complained.

I snorted. “Canoodling? Might as well say we’re post-fornication, Shakespeare.”

Flower climbed the mountain of Jonah’s thigh and I reached out to rub her head. She leaned into my fingers with a fierce rumble.

“Who’s daddy’s princess?” I murmured, feeling like I had to make up for scaring her earlier. “Who is? You are! That’s right, gorgeous.”

Jonah groaned. “Do not let her up near your face. I haven’t had a chance to wipe her down with a disinfectant wipe.”

My mouth opened in horror as he scooped Flower up and set her behind his back. She immediately jumped onto his bare side, and he winced.

“She claw you?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Serves you right. I can’t believe you’ve been disinfecting our precious!”

“I don’t see her every time she goes to the bathroom!” Jonah said. “We have to be cautious.”

I shook my head as Flower flopped down, sliding down Jonah’s abs to a fluffy puddle between our stomachs. “I can promise you right now, Jonah, even without the wipes, no one would ever accuse you of not being cautious.”