Three days had passed since I’d last seen Ty. He’d sent a text the day before, saying he could still smell me in his sheets. Aside from that, I hadn’t heard much from him, at all, and I sure as hell had no intentions of chasing him, if he was so content keeping his distance.

I’d been wrong to think one night with him would be enough. I should’ve known better. And when I’d told him no man could leave his mark on me again? Yeah, I’d lied about that, too, considering every inch of my skin still burned from his touch.

The artist in me craved the pain, while my body craved his torment. Ultimately, I craved more of him. So much so, my thighs clenched with the urge to cross my legs every time my mind drifted to that night, tangled in his sheets, wrapped in his arms. I hated the way my pulse hastened, my body came alive at the mere thought of him. That angry look in his eyes warning me not to push him. The wrath of his lips against mine. The punishing drive of his hips, promising regret.

I’d reached the brink of desperation. Obsessed.

I needed distraction. Something that would keep me from overthinking everything like I always did, seeing as Bea had gone to Simone’s for the weekend.

A gallon of ice cream in the freezer begged me to crack it open and sob, while watching The Notebook, or some other sappy romance that’d never come close to the kind of messed up relationship I had with Ty. Instead, I cranked up Janis Joplin’s Piece Of My Heart, one of my mom’s favorites, and picking up a glass bottle of Dr. Pepper from the table beside my art easel, I lifted it in the air like a toast to her. “To fucking heartbreak, and the men who put us through that shit.”

The TV I’d paused showed a woman bound by her arms, her head tipped back, lost to pleasure, though it almost looked like torture, while a man feasted on her somewhere outside of the camera’s view. In time to the music, I stripped off my jeans, and popped my bra free, sliding it through my sleeve. I tossed both garments into my hamper, and kept on dancing in nothing more than a Guns N Roses tee, a pair of boy-shorts, and the knee-high striped tube socks I’d slipped on to help me slide across the hardwood floor.

The charcoal drawing set before me served as a decent diversion, the subject being the woman paused on the TV. Nothing but a still shot, which I’d turned into a sensual image of dark clouds surrounding her, seducing her, as she reached upward, desperate to touch something. The pain and despair I’d captured in her expression mirrored my own.

So not a complete distraction, to be honest. But, hey, I’d found my mojo again.

The pounding at the door made me jump, and I scrambled toward my phone, turning down the music that blasted from the Bluetooth speaker on my desk.

“Sorry!” I shouted, figuring it was the neighbors complaining, as they often did when Bea had her tunes cranked too loud.

Another wallop at the door skated down my spine, and I tiptoed toward it. With no intentions of answering, I peered through the peephole.

Ty stared back, the bright blue of his eyes nearly blinding me. The sight of him tugged free a gasp, and for whatever reason, I ducked, before wondering what the hell I was doing.

I unlocked the door, forgetting for a moment how little I happened to be wearing, until Ty’s gaze dipped lower and back. I tugged the shirt down, trying to cover as much of my thighs as I could. “Um. You weren’t …. I didn’t …. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I see that.” He peered past me as though looking for someone. “You alone?”

Affronted by his question, I frowned and crossed my arms. “You assume I’m sleeping with someone else already?”

“I thought your roommate might be home.”

Oh. Right. I rolled my shoulders, the heat of embarrassment flaring in my cheeks. “Sorry. No, she’s at her girlfriends all night. Do you … want to come in?”

I stepped aside, feeling small, as he passed me and stopped just inside the foyer.

The moment I shut the door, his hands were on me, pushing me into the wall behind me, my back sliding up the surface as he lifted me and dove head-first into my neck.

“You don’t know how bad I need you right now.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t know. We’re back to playing games again.” I tipped my head back, as he devoured my neck, the feel of his lips on my throat sending me into a lust-drunk stupor.

Fight it, my head battled, but his lips disarmed me like ninjas out for the kill.

“My head’s all messed up. I got this noise banging around my skull all the time, but when I’m with you, it’s quiet. It all goes away.”

“Then, why do you avoid me? Why do you constantly push me away?”

Instead of answering, he shut me up with his kiss, and his hands slid up the hem of my shirt, fingers possessively digging into my waist.

“Did you think about me, Sera?”

Always the same question, designed to weaken me. To drag me into his bullshit, so the moment I gave in, he could swoop down and steal my dignity.

“You know I did. That’s how you torture. You’re a torturing asshole, Ty.”

“You know what torture is?” His whisper in my ear sent a shudder down my spine. “It’s wanting something more than fucking air and pretending like you don’t.”

“Why do you pretend? If you want me so badly, then why play games about it?”

He leaned in to kiss me again, his way of not answering my questions, and I kicked my head to the side before he could reach my lips.

My body slid back down the wall.

“You’re driving me crazy,” I admitted. It was true. I’d reached some codependent phase, and had to convince myself I was happy playing along, just so I could look myself in the mirror.

“You’re driving me crazy, too, Sera.” His breaths calmed, and for a moment, I thought we were done.

Instead, he knelt down before me, keeping his eyes on me, and lifted my shirt.

“Ty, I’m not doing this. I’m tired of the back and forth. I’m not going to be your cheap booty call.”

“You’re not cheap.” Fingers curled inside my shorts, he slid them down to mid-thigh, before I slammed my palms to his shoulders, pushing him back. His eyes turned pleading, and his tongue swept across his lips. The T-shirt tightened around my waist, as he rested his head against my stomach and kissed my navel. “Please, Sera, I just need one taste. One hit, and I’ll be straight again.”

Jesus, he sounded like an addict, fielding for pussy.

“Your charm and sad little boy eyes aren’t going to work.”

Except, they did. Goddamn it, he kissed lower, and in spite of the death grip I had on his skull, he kissed lower still, until the first sweep of his tongue reminded me that I had no choice with Ty.

My body lit up like a match with the first strike and came alive, while he held me against the wall, devouring me where I stood. “Why don’t you just … get it somewhere else?” I squealed, when his tongue flicked against my clit and he sucked my folds into his mouth. “I’m sure … eight mile—oh, God … has plenty …” Another long lick had my hands balling into tight fists around his hair. “Of pussy willing … to fuck you. No strings.”

“I don’t want a whore.” His teeth grazed my lips as he savagely ate me like an animal starved for too long. “I want your pussy.”

I turned my head to the side, catching a glimpse of us in the mirror that hung at the end of the foyer. I could see it in my face, my eyes, the upturn of my brows, the parting of my lips, his face buried in my cunt. I was fucked. Just like the woman paused on TV. So dirty and beautiful at the same time.

He yanked my panties down over my ankles and tossed them aside. Lifting me up into his arms, pressing my spine into the wall, he ground his bulge against my sex, silently confessing his appetite for more. “Can’t stop thinking about you, Sera,” he breathed across my jaw, before his teeth skated along my collarbone, and I closed my eyes. “Your smell. Your touch.” He grazed my throat and planted a kiss there. “Those little sounds you make when you come.” Another kiss. “The way you look at me after that makes me want to fuck you all over again.”

When I reopened my eyes, we’d moved to the first surface it seemed he could bend me over, which happened to be the arm of the couch. As soon as my feet hit the floor, he turned me around and pushed my head down to the cushion, leaving my ass high in the air.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop.” Hands prying me apart, he plowed into my pussy tongue first, and licked all the way up to my ass, the sensation jerking me forward.

“Ah, Ty!” I kicked my head to the side, watching him.

“When I shove my fingers inside of you, I want you to say my name again.” He tipped his head, prodding my entrance with those wicked pleasure daggers, and I did as he asked, his name searing my tongue, while my traitorous pussy welcomed his invasion with a wet slide.

Drawing his fingers out showed the glisten on his skin, where he held them up for me to see. “Always wet for me,” he said, and sucked my arousal from them. “Admit it, Sera. You say you don’t want to play, but you love this game. You crave it as much as I do. Deny it all you want. Your body doesn’t lie.”

Unbuckling his pants, he didn’t take his diamond eyes off me once, not even when he slipped the buckle from its loops and tied it around my wrists, above my head. The leather bit into my flesh, as he tightened it, then he knelt down beside me, brushing the hair from my face. “I’m going to fuck you everywhere in here, until you feel me in every corner of your mind. Every time you sit on this couch, you’ll think of the night I bent you over and fucked you against it. Every time you walk through that door, you’ll think of my mouth sucking your pussy. And every time you go to sleep in your bed, you’ll think about the sweat and pain you endured, having my dick buried in you for hours. Only then will you know how badly I’ve wanted you this week.”

“Why bind my arms?”

“Because this isn’t about you touching me and tormenting me all over again. This is about me tormenting you. Showing you how it feels wanting to grab onto something, all while knowing your hands are tied.”

My whole body shuddered at his words, and I submitted to them, tucking my bound hands beneath my body.

Ty peeled off his shirt and pushed his jeans to the floor, stroking his fully erect cock in front of me. The perfection of his body, the tight cords of muscle, long and lean, and the chiseled grooves in his chest and abs drew my focus away from the scars. “I’m going to feed off of you until I’m no longer hungry.”

Swallowing a harsh gulp, I tacked my eyes shut, as he lined his tip to my entrance. At the first thrust, I screamed into the cushion, the muffled sound ringing in my ears. My fingers clawed for purchase against the cropped fabric, sliding against the tiny fibers.

He pulled back to the tip, and drove forward again, his thrust nearly tearing through my womb. In and out, he pumped a vicious rhythm, his cock filling me with every punishing slam from behind.

The angle, the depth of his cock, the excitement of having my hands bound, all culminated into the kind of ecstasy I’d never had before. Wetness pooled beneath my cheek where I’d leaked drool from the corner of my mouth.

All I could think about was Bea and I sitting on that very couch come Monday, drinking our morning coffees, as usual, only nothing about it would be usual. I’d be wondering if she could sense, maybe smell the sex clinging to the upholstery, or feel my dried saliva beneath her.

Ty’s relentless assault kept on, thumping the couch, squeaking the wooden frame inside of it, while he rutted against me like we were animals in heat. Sweat poured down my face, and I could feel more in the wet slide of his hands digging into my waist. My skin burned fever-hot.

I held my breath, face planted in the cushion, as tingles climbed my spine, higher and higher, building in my stomach like a knot wound too tight. I arched my back and cried out through the first blast of climax exploding across my limbs, my legs shivering as the orgasm shattered along my muscles, weakening them.

Ty pulled out, and I paused to breathe, only to be lifted from the couch into his arms. He carried me into the bathroom, just as he had at his apartment, and flipped on the shower. As it warmed, he held me up, my legs like jelly, and tugged me into the stall. Arms still bound, I lifted up on tiptoes, when he hoisted my wrists over the shower spigot, slicing through the warm spray. He stepped back, stroking his still-hard cock. He didn’t come—a thought that tripped my confidence button for a moment, until I realized he hadn’t wanted to. Yet.

“Don’t move,” he commanded, watching me.

My toes slid across the shower floor as I tried not to put too much weight on the neck of the thing.

His hand reached out, spreading the water over my breasts, and he held a puckered nipple between his fingers, giving a light pinch. The sensation built inside of me again. I didn’t know how, but when he set his mouth to my breast and suckled it, want beat through me as wickedly as before, and I ground my ass against the cool tiles behind me.

Abandoning my breast, Ty reached up and pulled the detachable showerhead from its hook, the same hook I was desperate not to bust from the wall. Fist still pumping his cock, he set the showerhead against my swollen and sensitive pussy, nudging my leg up onto the ledge beside me. While the determined pulse of water titillated my clit, he clamped his mouth on my neglected breast, and I squirmed, letting out a desperate moan as the insane little tickles beat against my flesh.

“Oh, God!”

“Don’t come yet.”

His teeth pinched my nipple, like a zap of electricity sizzling across my flesh, and I tipped my head back with a whimper. My stomach muscles tightened, as the unremitting warm thumps of the massage setting taunted me to climax.

“I can’t …” I murmured, willing myself to ignore it. Wrists burning with the wriggling of my hands inside the leather cuff, I chuffed an unintelligible noise, like that of an animal, as I held back the monstrous urge to come. My breasts tingled, standing at peaks to his merciless lapping.

Still pounding away at his dick, he stepped back just enough to keep that goddamn spigot positioned against my clit, and I watched him come all over his palm in fountains of hot seed jetting from the tip, watering my mouth.

I couldn’t hold on anymore. The satiated expression plastered to his face. The release on his hands. The stomach-knotting pressure pounding against my pussy.

I kicked my head back and let it crash over me, half-sobbing, as the intense heat shot through my body. Dizziness swept over me, and I stumbled forward, caught in Ty’s arms. Holding me up with one hand, he set the showerhead back and lifted me into his arms.

Weakened to the point of exhaustion, I couldn’t muster a single twitch of my muscles, as I rested my head against his shoulder. His lips found my throat, and the cool tiles hit my back, soothing the burn of my skin. Chin held in his palm, my eyes shut to the shower’s warm sprays against my face, Ty crashed his mouth over mine, his tongue impaling my lips, as he sucked the water from them.

“There is no other woman for me, Sera. It’s only you.” His lips slanted over my own, my head still caught in a haze of pleasure. “Like a fucking addiction I can’t shake.”

I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could hear the quaver in his voice, the unstable sound of a man on the edge.

“I’ll never be good enough. Not for you. But tonight, I’m going to make you feel good.”

“Ty.” Turning my head to release his grip of my chin, I rested my forehead against his shoulder to get out of the water’s spray. “You are good enough.” Hands still bound, I ran my knuckles over the groove of his chest and kissed his throat. “You are good.”

* * *

Cool air danced across the sweat clinging to my body, as I lay in bed, listening to Ty’s steady heartbeat thumping in my ear. Sleep tugged at my eyelids, as he sat circling the pad of his finger over my skin, lulling me.

He’d finally removed the binds from my wrists, and I clutched him with the dreaded feeling that he’d slip away any minute.

“Why does she look to be in pain?”

I followed the path of his gaze to the sketch propped on the easel across the room. “It’s longing.”

“For what?”

“Something out of reach. Something she’ll never have.” I mustered the strength to lift my head from his chest and traced the grooves of his muscles. “Hits home.”

“Yeah. For me, too.”

“How so?”

“You’re lying in my arms, but I feel like I’ll never really have you. You’ll never be mine.”

“Why do you say that?”

His brows knitted, and he ran his thumb over the deepening creases in his forehead, but he didn’t answer.

“You keep telling me there are secrets and things I don’t know about you, but you’re not giving me any more than that. Is it a terminal illness? Are you moving across the country? Whatever it is, Ty, I’m willing to make this work out. I told you before—no regrets.” I lay back down on his chest, possessively drawing my arm across him, as if he’d up and leave right then. “I lied when I told you I wanted the pain of being with you, even if we never saw each other again. I didn’t expect to feel so connected to you. I thought it was just sex.” Head still resting against his heart, I stared up at him. “I’m sorry, Ty. I can’t just do sex with you. I want more.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes clasped shut. “Have you ever told a lie so profound, it could destroy lives?”

The frown on my face only exposed a fraction of the confusion swirling in my head. “What do you mean? Like what?”

The silence between us skated across my nerves, as he turned his head toward the window, casting his gaze from mine.

“Hey.” Hand set to his cheek, I guided his eyes back to mine. “Tell me. I promise it won’t change anything.”

His brow flickered, jaw shifting with either annoyance, or disbelief. “What if I told you I needed something.”

Without so much as a flinch, I held his stare. “Tell me.”