“Carmen, tell me what you want.”

She drained the glass of wine before she took the plunge. “Do you have fantasies?”

“What?”

She grasped his tie to reel him in. He came willingly and towered over her. His lips were so close, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. She cupped the back of his neck and ignored her heart which sped up as anxiety and lust mixed with alcohol and heated her blood.

“Fantasies, Marcus. Do you have any?”

Witnessing what Angel was capable of and what he dared made her hungry to be dominated. She was a strong, capable woman, but right now, she wanted someone else to call the shots and rule her life so she could take a break. Marcus watched her closely, probably trying to figure out where this was headed.

“You,” he said.

“What?”

“You’re my fantasy.”

“Me doing what?”

“Anything.” He shrugged. “Everything. You’re doing a good job of giving me variety.”

She looped her arms around his neck and went on tiptoes so their lips brushed as she said, “I want you to use me.”

“What?”

She stared into his eyes as she said, “Whatever fantasy you have, make me do it.” One hand slipped into his hair. “Make me submit. Wring me dry.”

There was a lot of activity in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. She wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

“I’m going to fight you,” she whispered, and his body locked against hers. “I need to battle tonight, and I want you to win.”

She stroked the side of his face. Her stomach jittered as she waited for him to respond. Only the sound of the gently dripping water filled the room. He hadn’t shoved her away and called her crazy yet. Words tumbled out of her mouth, desires she didn’t know she possessed.

“I need you to make me believe I’m yours. Completely, irrevocably. I need to believe things will go right in my life because it’s yours, and you won’t let anything happen to your fuck toy.”

The night of Vinny’s murder marked the beginning of her perfect life being torn to shreds. She lost Vinny and her future, her father, and Uncle Manny. Fast forward three years and she was still floating through life with no anchor or true North. She wanted to imagine she belonged to someone, even if it was only for an hour. She had been alone for so long. The need to feel bonded to someone, to be connected on a visceral level burned in her gut. Before, she arrogantly believed she could control her life, Vinny’s life, Lyla’s life. Vinny was gunned down, Gavin cheated … She couldn’t control people, she couldn’t control anything, so she would give someone else the reins … temporarily, if he accepted. She didn’t know who she was anymore. She wanted someone to mold her into someone worth keeping.

She stroked the side of his face with a trembling hand. “Use me, Marcus.”

He searched her eyes. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Oh. My. God. He was willing. Her eyes stung with tears of relief and that awful wrenching feeling in her heart subsided. Her heart swelled with emotion. Holy shit. Marcus Fletcher would let his caveman free. Anticipation and excitement made her breathing heavy. This was dangerous, but she trusted him. Marcus matched her time and again, and he was willing to step off the cliff with her again. She role played with Vinny but never like this. She’d never had these urges before, but they were here now and not going away. It was time to purge. She hoped Marcus was up for it. 

“Let yourself go,” she whispered as she kissed the side of his mouth. “You’re a man. Let your animal instincts take over. Forget about morals and proper behavior. Do what feels good. You’re in control here.” She pressed a close-mouthed kiss on his lips before she looked up at him. “That’s the last one you get unless you make me.”

She shoved him hard. He stumbled back and dropped his cup. Glass shattered, and expensive wine leaked across the floor. Neither of them acknowledged it. They stared at one another as the colored lights from The Strip played over their faces. She couldn’t read his expression. His rigid body, narrowed eyes, and silence was so unlike him. It made her heart flutter with excitement. She’d caught glimpses of his dominant side, but he’d never given it free rein. He was always cool, effortless control. He was comfortable playing the nice guy, but there was more to him. She knew it. Now, how to incite his beast?

She hurled her empty glass at him. He sidestepped and turned to watch the cup shatter before he turned back to her with a scowl. Her badass bitch rose to the surface and raised a brow.

“What are you gonna do about it?” she asked with a hand on her hip.

Marcus stared at her.

“Nothing?” She sighed dramatically and examined her nails. “Figures. I know I should have fucked—”

One moment, he was standing three feet away, and the next, he was in front of her. He clamped a hand over her mouth and propelled her backward until she collided with the glass wall. Her nails dug into his wrist, but he didn’t loosen his hold. She looked up, and her heart stuttered. Holy fuck. The polite, amused businessman was gone. His whole demeanor had changed. His eyes were calculating, cold, and hungry while the lines of his face seemed sharper as he morphed into a character who would match hers.

He leaned down so their faces were inches apart. “Behave.”

She brought her leg up, but he jerked back in time and gripped her by the throat. He squeezed hard enough to make her aware of his strength. No man had ever manhandled her before. No man dared and now … now she could let loose as she never had before.

She went for his eyes with her nails. He blocked her hand at the same time that he kicked one of her legs out from under her. She screamed as she fell. Marcus followed her down and stopped the back of her head from hitting the floor with the grip on her throat. He crouched over her, a beast in his six-thousand-dollar Brioni suit.

“I told you to behave,” he said.

His placid tone sent a chill down her spine. His actions were nothing like the Marcus she knew. What had she unleashed … and how could she get more? She made her eyes as wide and vulnerable as possible and let her lips quiver.

“M-Marcus?”

He blinked twice, and his hand on her throat fell away. “Carmen?” When she didn’t answer, he cupped her face. “Did I hurt—”

She grasped a handful of his hair and yanked savagely. As he toppled to the side, she leaped to her feet and ran as fast as she could in her stilettos. She was feet from the stairs when Marcus tackled her from behind. She lost her breath as she took his weight.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he said.

She panted as her cheek pressed against the cold floor. He stood and yanked her up with him. She sucked in a breath as he twisted her arm behind her back. She walked quickly to avoid him breaking it. He shoved her on her knees in front of the couch and sat in front of her. He spread his legs and dragged her forward so she was between his thighs. The angle he kept her arm twisted at made her bend forward so her nose was pressed to his crotch.

“Undo my pants,” he ordered.

“I need both hands.”

“You can do without one.”

She fumbled with the belt buckle, undid his button, and tugged the zipper down. Her hand brushed against his dick, which was already hard. She looked up at him as she pulled his cock out of his underwear.

“Suck me.”

She bared her teeth at him. “Make me.”

His hand clamped on her cheeks, making her mouth fall open. He pushed her head down, and the next thing she knew, his dick was in her mouth, and he was balls deep. She gagged and tapped his hard thigh. When that didn’t work, her hand dug into his chest, but it made no difference since he was still clothed. He had a grip on her hair and her arm still bent behind her back, effectively pinning her. Holy shit.

“Suck me.”

She wriggled her tongue, and his grip on her hair eased. She bobbed tentatively and was rewarded even more. The piercing pain in her arm eased. Rewards for good behavior. He held her too close for her to see his face. He could have been anyone except that his scent reassured her she was safe. She tried to relax as she worked him, but she couldn’t. She had never done anything like this before. She expected this of Angel, but Marcus? She wasn’t sure if she was exhilarated or terrified.

“Use your hand.”

She hesitated, and he forced her head down. She immediately wrapped her hand around his dick to stop herself from deep throating him again. Her diamond rings sparkled as she fisted him hard.

“Good girl.”

That made her pause, but the grip in her hair forced her to continue moving.

“I learned to hold back from a very young age. I’ve never done what I wanted, I always did what was required, and I was fine with that.” His voice roughened as she swirled her tongue over the tip of his cock. He stroked her hair. “You come to me, asking me to forget years of conditioning.”

He yanked her head back and stared at her, eyes devoid of anything civilized and gentle.

“It’s dangerous to tell someone to let go when you don’t know what’s inside them.”

She licked her lips as her heart galloped in her chest. “What’s inside you?”

“I’ll show you.”

He yanked her up with that brutal grip on her arm and threw her on the couch. He ripped off her thong and clutched her thighs against his chest and rose. Her top half hung upside down, back arched and hands planted on the couch cushions. She wasn’t prepared for him to enter her, and she let out a choked scream. Before her body could fully adjust to the intrusion, he was moving—hard, brutal thrusts that took her breath away. He was hitting spots that made her eyes roll. She was as helpless as the girl Angel finger fucked.

“Marcus, Marcus.” She wasn’t sure whether she was pleading for mercy or for more.

She would come. It had to be the fastest climax on record. That couldn’t happen. It wasn’t enough—not yet. Her body might be sated, but her demons were still bloodthirsty for more. It would be over too soon. She began to fight—twisting, screaming, thrashing.

“What the fuck?”

Marcus dropped her, and she landed on the couch. She rolled off and stumbled toward the stairs on unsteady legs, but once again, she didn’t make it. Marcus grabbed a handful of her dress and yanked. The sound of ripping fabric made her scalp tingle as she fell forward. She ignored the sting in her hands and tried to get away, stilettos trying to find purchase on the slick floor. They ripped her dress as they fought, and she felt a draft on her back before the dress fell away. He pinned her on her stomach and placed his thighs on either side of hers as he entered her again. He rode her hard. She cried out and clawed the floor as she tried to get away from him. He was so deep, he was stabbing her cervix. The pain and pleasure of it silenced her clamoring demons. Color returned to her world and her senses came back to life, throbbing and pulsing. She could smell a faint lemon scent wafting off the cold, unforgiving ground beneath her as she panted. She could feel the tiny hairs on Marcus’s arm brushing against her cheek with each thrust. He was fucking her back to life.

“Do you know what it does to me to see you like this? At my mercy?” Marcus growled.

She thrashed beneath him. Her pussy was burning; she was high on lust and craved more. She wanted her head to explode. As if he sensed this, he pulled out. His weight disappeared, and she lay shaking on the floor until he grabbed her by the hair. She followed on her knees to the glass wall. He leaned against it and forced his dick in her mouth with both hands clenched her hair. The taste of them made her moan. She gripped the leg of his pants as he fucked her mouth.

“Your lipstick is all over my dick. I love that. What did you say before? That you were thinking of fucking someone else?”

She hummed, and he yanked her away from his cock. She needed it so badly that she wrapped her hand around it and continued to stroke it. His face was carved with savage lust. He was out of control and so was she. She was cock drunk and loving it.

He gripped her face. “Who owns you?”

“You do.”

He leaned down and kissed her, biting, licking, sucking as she panted with her eyes closed.

“You give yourself to me?”

“Yes. Take me. Everything.”

“I’m glad you said that.”

He yanked her up with a hold on her throat. She staggered on legs that felt like water. He bent her over. Her hands came out instinctively and hit the glass. She moaned as his fingers slid into her raw pussy. She was dripping, even down her legs. His slick fingers circled her asshole and then slid in. The new burn made her clench her teeth.

“Did he fuck your ass?” Marcus murmured.

“I-it wasn’t his thing.”

His chuckle made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand. She opened her eyes and saw his reflection in the glass as his fingers played with her ass. He looked as if she was putting him through excruciating pain. It made her lightheaded with anticipation.

“It’s my thing,” Marcus said as he stretched her.

She pranced on her stilettos. “No.”

His fingers paused. He yanked out without warning and slapped her hard enough to make her shriek and ram into the glass to get away from him. Holy shit. He crowded her against the glass and gripped her throat. She reached back and grabbed his wrist in panic as his hand slid back into her ass.

“You take what I give you,” he hissed in her ear as he fucked her brutally with his fingers.

She trembled and nodded.

“Tell me again.”

“Tell you what?” she panted.

“Who owns you?”

She took too long to answer and screamed when he jammed three fingers into her. She bounced up on her tiptoes.

“You,” she cried. “You. Only you.”

“That’s what I want to hear.”

She stilled when she felt the head of his penis touch her puckered ass. Holy shit. It felt as big as a fist. Good thing she had slobbered all over his dick. She blew out a breath, which caught in her throat as he eased in. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her backward until he was embedded inside her. She screamed and bowed her head, her nails threatening to snap off as she pressed them against the wall.

“Take it,” he said.

She hung her head and did as he said. Her body was lax as all the fight left her. She trembled uncontrollably as he eased in and out of her until he was balls deep.

“Now who owns all of you?” he whispered.

“You,” she whispered back.

“That’s right.”

He bent her over and began to move. His movements were rough and uncontrolled, betraying how far gone he was. He sounded more animal than man while she felt more like a throbbing ball of need than a human being. He shoved her forward, pinning her face, breasts, and half her abdomen against the wall. Pain and pleasure made her buck against him, inciting him to go faster and make him more aggressive. He obliged, fucking her so hard, she screamed.

“Marcus!”

Starbursts went off behind her eyelids as ecstasy crashed into her. She screamed as she came—the contrast of the freezing glass and the hot male behind her blowing her into oblivion. Marcus rode her through it and continued to fuck her, grunting and grabbing handfuls of her skin as his control shredded.

“Down.”

She heard the command a second before he spun her around and kicked her legs out from her under. Her knees hit the floor, and she looked up as Marcus stroked himself.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

Before she could comply, he gripped her cheeks again and her mouth dropped open to accept his cum. Jets of milky white covered her face and spurted into her mouth. She closed her eyes as he climaxed and licked the cum from her lips.

“Carmen,” he panted.

She opened her eyes and saw him staring down at her, dazed and shell-shocked. She took his cock into her mouth and sucked gently. He shuddered, tipped his head back, and stroked her hair. When he released her, she began to sink to the floor, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her up. There was a marked difference now in his grip and the way he picked her up and held her to his chest. She was limp as a noodle.

“Okay?” he asked gruffly.

His voice echoed strangely. She opened one eye and saw that they were in a lavish bathroom. He leaned into a shower and turned on the water.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

“Mmm.” She couldn’t talk.

He set her on her feet, and she threw out a hand for balance.

“Lean against the wall,” he ordered as he unbuckled her shoes and stripped off his suit.

He carried her into the shower. She leaned her head back and enjoyed the warm water cascading over her aching body. Marcus washed her while she leaned against him for support. When he finished, he picked her up again. She dropped her face on his shoulder and allowed him to take her wherever. She roused when icy wind touched her wet, nude body. She shifted and burrowed against him.

“Marcus.”

“Hold on.”

He walked into the Jacuzzi with her in his arms. She relaxed once she was shoulders deep in hot water. He set her on her feet, and she floated.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t drown.”

She giggled weakly as he left her. She tipped her head back and spread her arms wide. She felt empty in the best way possible. No needs, compulsions, guilt. It had all been burned away. She had been cleansed. The purge had been successful, better than she could have imagined. She wasn’t sure how long she waited, but a sound made her eyes open. Marcus came toward her with a tray of appetizers in one hand and two bottled waters in the other. He was buck naked. She watched his muscles shift beautifully as he moved. He set the tray and waters near her before he jumped in. He waded toward her and took her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“Mmm.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

He sat on the underwater bench and maneuvered her to sit sideways on his lap. He snagged a bottled water and held it to her lips. She didn’t realize she was thirsty until the first cool drops hit her tongue. She drank half of it before she pulled back.

“Thanks,” she rasped.

“Here.”

He pressed something against her lips. She didn’t hesitate. She opened, and he placed something crunchy in her mouth. She hummed as the flavor burst on her tongue.

“Yum. What is it?”

“Lobster wonton.”

Something else touched her lips, and she opened. She chewed and swallowed.

“Amazing,” she said.

“Grilled artichoke with roasted garlic aioli dipping sauce,” Marcus said.

He fed her while she floated, utterly content and at peace with her world.

“Borsin breaded mushrooms.”

Marcus went on and on until she tucked her head under his chin in surrender. “I’m full. Thank you.”

She could hear the faint traces of a musical score playing for the Bellagio water fountain show. Between the warm water bubbling around her and Marcus’s body, she felt as if she was near a roaring fire. She was lax, lethargic, and for the first time in a long time, she knew everything would be okay. She would get past the pain, the relapses, the guilt. The battle with Marcus challenged her physically, mentally, emotionally. She had never felt better.

“You scare me.”

For a moment, she thought she was hearing things. She raised her head to see his face.

“What?” she slurred, so exhausted she was having a hard time thinking straight.

“You scare me,” he repeated as his eyes tracked over her face.

“Why?”

“You have no fear. I could have … If I had been a different man …” He shook his head and tightened his hold on her. “You bring out things in me. I don’t like the man I am with you.”

She chuckled. “I love him. He’s perfect for me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You like the man who mouth fucked you? Pulled your hair? Almost broke your arm?”

Just the memory of it made her pussy tingle. “I loved that it was you doing it. I would have killed any other man who tried. I knew I was safe. I trust you.”

His silence was fraught with tension. She shifted to straddle him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed gentle kisses over his face.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

His grumpy, disgruntled tone made her smile. She sat back and looked straight into dissecting green eyes.

“For always being there when I need you.” She stroked his cheek. “I cried during our first hookup, and you still came back for more.” She chuckled and kissed him, soft and sweet. “I pulled a gun on you, turned you into a teacher, fucked you in a laundry room, and just now you gave me something you’ve never given anyone else.”

He stared at her for a long minute. “What’s that?”

She rested her forehead against his. “The real you.” He tensed, and she wrapped herself around him. “The one you don’t show people, the one you’re ashamed of.” She looked deep into his eyes. “I love that guy.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You’ve got me all fucked up.”

She laughed and nuzzled him. “You’re fine; you’re just freaked because you lost control.”

He fixed her with a bad-tempered look. “I did. That can’t happen again.”

“It will,” she predicted and gave him another kiss. “I’ll make sure it does.”

She dropped her cheek on his shoulder and sighed. He slipped off the bench while she clung to him. He bounced around the Jacuzzi with his arms holding her close.

“What happened tonight?” he asked.

“I had a dream.”

“About Vinny.”

It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. “Yes.”

She was so sated that she didn’t feel even a flicker of pain. She girded herself to collect her thoughts and show her cards. After going to war with her, he deserved to know why. “I made a lot of mistakes. I have a lot of guilt.” Her chest tightened fractionally, but she soldiered on. “I don’t know how to handle the pain, so I obsess about other things. Food, shopping, volunteering, taking care of others, sex. Nothing satisfies me for long before I’m on my next bender.”

Marcus said nothing, and for that, she was grateful. She was glad of her position since it allowed her to confess without seeing his expression while she spilled her guts. In her current state, there was no embarrassment, guilt, or sorrow—only still waters.

“I needed something more tonight. Seeing Angel finger fuck that chick in Lux didn’t help. He goes through the same manic episodes that I do, but we handle them differently. He thought I would submit to him, to let him do whatever he wanted to me to get my fix, but I gave Carter a lap dance instead.”

Marcus tensed, but that could have been her imagination.

“I needed something more tonight. I needed a fight, and I didn’t know how I would get one.” She tightened her arms around him and kissed his shoulder. “You gave me exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

“I didn’t scare you?”

“You did, but in the best way.” She smiled against his skin. “A good guy with major kink. I love it. You make me happy, Marcus Fletcher.”

He pulled away slightly, forcing her to raise her head and look up.

“Is there something going on between you and Angel?” he asked.

“We’ve had … encounters,” she admitted, “but we haven’t slept together.”

He cocked his head to the side. “But you were close to it?”

“Yes.”

He collared her throat. “I don’t want anyone else touching you.”

She beamed and wrapped her arms around him. “Really? That’s sweet!”

“I mean it.”

“We’re exclusive,” he said in a rough voice that said his beast was still near the surface.

She liked the hand on her throat, the possessiveness in his voice. It made her feel wanted and cherished instead of lost and alone. “I’m good with that.”

“It means no lap dances for other men too.” She smiled as his thumb feathered over her pulse. “Is there anything else I should know?”

She nodded, and he tensed.

“What?” he bit out.

“You were bloody magnificent tonight.”

The hard glitter faded from his eyes and was replaced by something much softer and the slightest bit arrogant. “Really?”

She nodded emphatically. “Best hate fuck ever.”

He frowned. “I don’t like that term.”

“Fine. Best purge fuck ever.”

“I still don’t like it, but it’s better.”

She kissed him. “How about you’re the best purge a girl could ask for?”

“Better,” he murmured. “I’m glad you came to me.”

“Me too.”

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed wrapped in each other, but when he carried her out, she moaned in protest.

“You’re falling asleep on me.”

She shivered as he moved through the penthouse. Once again, he stepped into the shower with her and washed away the chlorine and all traces of the purge. He shampooed her hair while she floated in the throes of her high. He wrapped her in a warm, comfy robe and placed her in a bed. He slid in beside her and pulled the heavy duvet over them. He buried his face in her hair as he wrapped her close from behind.

“I ripped your dress,” he said.

“I think we both did,” she mumbled.

“You need clothes,” he said.

She wasn’t worried about it. She was warm, calm, safe. Nothing else mattered.