“Frankie.”

The voice sounded distant. I groaned—everything hurt, and I mean everything. I wasn’t sure where I was, but it was soft. Was it the afterlife? I pushed my face deeper into the softness, moaning.

“Mio cuore.”

I rolled over and blinked. My view was shadowed by a hard, bearded jaw…intense bluegreen eyes…tan, smooth skin.

Anteros.

It came back to me in flashes—Lucia—Nikolai—Crazy A—getting stabbed.

I slapped him across the face. “Get off me!”

“I saved our lives,” he gritted, keeping me pinned. This time I punched him. He spit the blood out, keeping his eyes locked on mine. I immediately regretted punching him, not because I felt badly but because it hurt my hand and my side burned with the movement.

Anteros wiped the blood from his mouth, unperturbed. “Nothing I said was true. I lied to him. It fucking killed me to hurt you, Frankie. How could you even think I would mean any of it? You’re in my blood, the only way you leave me is if I bleed out.” I could only feel the next few seconds. Heartbeats like bass too loud in my chest. The bed moving up and down with my breath. His skin pressing into my legs. Anteros had taken off everything save the lingerie Lucia had forced me into, but he was still dressed—except not in the tuxedo. Wearing slacks and a navy Henley, he was dressed suspiciously like the first days we’d been together. We were in his room, but it had never really felt like just his room.

God, was the nightmare finally over? Could I finally just sleep here with him?

“I know you didn’t lie to me,” I finally said. “How could you even think I thought that?” I’d never once thought Anteros was telling the truth to Crazy A. After everything we’d been through, I at least had that reassurance, but, Jesus, I’d gotten fucking stabbed. “You stabbed me.”

“I saved you,” he growled.

“I saved you,” I amended. “I killed Lucia like we planned. She had a gun and I was looking for a way to tell you but you decided stabbing me was better I guess.”

He exhaled and shook his head like I was some child who wouldn’t stop asking why. “I had a plan.”

“Your plan sucked ass. It involved me getting stabbed.”

“Barely.” He grinned, sharp white teeth—a wolf for whom I would gladly be dinner.

I looked to the side and said, “Maybe I should barely stab you.”

“Don’t tease me, mio cuore.” One, two, three beats passed before I looked back, falling into his gaze. He pushed me deeper into the mattress and I sank into the sheets, so close his breath heated my lips. Then his lips were on me and I didn’t give a shit about the pain reverberating in my body—I had to have him.

Anteros’s lips were wet and hot and delicious—my perfect half. He threaded his fingers through my hair, and his guttural groan echoed in my lungs. When we broke apart, his saliva wetted my mouth. I focused on his lips, the red color, the way they curved slightly in a smile. I blinked, then looked at my abdomen.

“You stitched me up?” I asked, fingers grazing across the newly mended flesh.

“You were out for hours. I also had to clean myself up.” He moved a strand of hair behind my ear and gestured to his new outfit. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t give you any medicine while you were asleep.”

“Now I’m going to have more scars,” I thought aloud.

He pressed his thumb gently along the stitches. “Your scars are beautiful, they’re a map to the person you’re becoming.” His eyes zeroed back on me, and his stare vibrated deep in my bones, my need echoing his. A small bit of blood soaked through the new Henley where the bullet had clipped him. We were such a pair, almost totally annihilated by the past days’ events. Anteros had been shot at least twice over the past few days. I’d been shot and stabbed.

But we were still standing.

He tried to get off the bed but I wouldn’t let him, gripping the fabric at his waist. Why was he leaving me? He stopped and bent over the bed, gripping my hair and knotting it.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” he asked. I held the fabric of his shirt between my fingers, pulling myself up to him, back lifting from the mattress. I had a feeling I was going to be in bed for weeks after all this, but right now I didn’t care. I embraced the aching in my bones, the sharpness on my skin. It fueled me. It meant I was alive, meant I’d survived. I swayed to him, smelling him, needing his skin against my cheek, rubbing his neck like a cat.

He knotted my hair tighter. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” I moaned. I wanted to breathe him in, suck in every ounce. His eyes were wildfire and my soul burned for him. There was a little bit of blood below his jaw, where the line met the neck. That sharp, achingly hard jaw—I wanted to lick it.

“Then let go,” he gritted, tightening his hold on my hair. I did as he said, and at the same time, he released his grip. I fell back to the bed with a bounce, watching, waiting. I mourned the loss of him. I needed his touch—holding me, slapping me, bruising me—anything.

He left the room and as much as I wanted to follow him, I obeyed. I looked at my naked body. Dried blood caked the skin like splashes of paint. Where I’d been stabbed was clean, so I assumed the blood wasn’t mine. When I lifted my head, Anteros was prowling over to me. His eyes were smoldering, and there was a knife in his hand. He reminded me of a lethal animal, but even that wasn’t right. He was a demon, something that was going to dig into my heart with its claws.

Slowly he crawled on top of me, and I could feel him with each movement until I was nearly flattened. His black hair tickling my cheek, his breath hot on my lips, chest only touching me with each breath he took. Our eyes locked.

I would die if he didn’t do something soon.

I raised my neck to kiss him but he moved away, a smile on his face. Arrogant. Annoying. Intoxicating. I tried to kiss him again but he held my neck, keeping me still. My body moved anyway, reaching for its other half, its master. I was possessed, out of my mind with lust. Our breath in the air was ether.

His eyes were on me the entire time while he traced an S from my neck to my hip, so light it was like a breeze on my skin, teasing me, not touching the parts I needed it to. I lifted my hips, groaning in aggravation, the noise loaded.

“Fuck me.” My words were a warbled, pleading demand. After everything, I couldn’t have him teasing me. His eyes grew hard, grip tightening around my neck. He roughly pulled my head up, putting my ear to his lips. The heat of his breath was enough to scorch me, to make me clench even tighter.

“You will always be my slave, Frankie. Talking without permission from your master gets you punished.” Then he let me go and with the shock of it, the speed of it, I spun off the bed and fell to the floor. My head banged against the ground.

Before I could get up, he pressed his foot against my chest. It was hard enough to keep me held down, light enough to have me craving more. I lifted my neck up as much as I could to watch him. My breath hitched—his bluegreen gaze was ruthless. He placed the knife under my panties and they rose with the blade, pulling away until the fabric was tight against my skin.

“Don’t fucking move,” he said, eyes locked on me. With his foot still keeping me pinned, he bent over and used his free hand to rub me, work me up, pinch a nipple.

“I’m going to fuck you with this.” He held the knife and panties in limbo, eyes hard on me. “I’m going to stick the handle of this blade inside your cunt.” His voice was low, hoarse, the words buzzing and crackling. It was all I could do to keep my head up.

“Please,” I practically whimpered, but before I even finished, the thin, webby fabric of my lingerie tore. The breeze licked at my sweaty skin.

Anteros hissed. “You are so fucking beautiful.” His free hand ran the length of me, palm spreading around my neck, tightening before releasing and exploring. My collarbone. My breasts. Between my breasts and under the slope. My stomach. My hips. He was extra gentle at the spot where he’d recently sewn me up, but he didn’t ignore it.

“Oh.” I sucked in a breath when his touch played with the stitching. It was painful, but combined with his touch, it was enlivening. I tried to rise up to meet his hand, desperate for him, but his foot kept me pinned.

“Put your head back,” he instructed, and I did as I was told. The pressure at my stomach released, his foot gone, and Anteros was at my side. The knife handle pushed at my lips. A part of me wanted to watch, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him—he was watching me with such intensity.

His free hand came to cup my jaw just as the handle slid inside me. Corrugated, a bit cold—shattering. My mouth parted on a silent groan, and the hand at my jaw spread along my face, covered my cheek, my jaw. He didn’t stop watching me, devoured my expressions, more interested in how I was reacting than what was going on below.

He slid his thumb into my mouth, over my tongue, and groaned out the words, “I’ve wanted to fuck you with this since the night you cut me.”

Even if he hadn’t been fucking his thumb into my mouth, I would have been without words. I closed my eyes, unable to focus, only to feel.

“I knew you would love this.” His breath ignited tingles in my body that exploded into fireworks. Steamy pants fell from my lips as I arched up. There was something about having the blade so close to my sensitive flesh. It was invigorating and awakening, goose bumps pricked every inch of me.

“Because you are my little dark queen,” he said, twisting the handle up so it hit that wonderful spot. “I know what you need.” My fingers splayed against the cool ground, feeling the polished hardwood. I was becoming nothing but sensation.

I was so close. I reached a hand up, grasping his back, his shoulder, his neck—anything I could. Eyes closed, I relished the way his muscles coiled under my touch, but mourned the barrier of his shirt against my fingertips. It wasn’t just the danger, it was knowing Anteros wouldn’t hurt me. It was utterly trusting him.

Warm, strong lips found mine, and I came undone. That coiled tension in my abdomen released through my body in a heady haze that spread to my toes and fingertips. I arched off the ground and Anteros sucked and dove his tongue into my mouth, the knife handle plunging deeper inside me.

* * *

Later Anteros held me against his chest, nose pressed to my hair. One hand lazily palmed my stomach, the other drew little circles on my nipple. We hadn’t bothered moving off the floor—for a while I couldn’t move—but now I just didn’t want to shatter the moment. My head rose and fell with his breaths and I counted lights on the skyscrapers like they were stars.

“I’m so sorry about Nikolai,” I said after a few moments. “I know he was important to you.” Just as I’d wanted to kill Lucia, Anteros had wanted to kill Nikolai. Neither of us had expected Crazy A, obviously. Now Nikolai was out there, most likely plotting our deaths. That wasn’t what bothered me, though, it was that Anteros hadn’t gotten his closure.

“I don’t want to talk about him now.” The finger at my nipple stopped circling, his voice hardened.

I took the hint.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I purred, rolling over on his chest. With a goofy grin, I lifted the Henley up, revealing the eight-pack beneath. My smile fell when I noticed his hand.

“Oh my God,” I gasped. A long, deep gash marked the center of his palm. The very same hand cupped my jaw, bringing my gaze back to his. “I would cut myself a thousand times if it meant I got to see the face you make when you come,” he said, wry smile twisting his cheek, making my abdomen clench.

“You don’t need to cut yourself to see it,” I said, crawling up his chest. “You should know by now you can just look at me and I’ll melt into a puddle.”

“I don’t want you in a puddle.” He gripped my ass, tugging me up his body. Suddenly we were both sitting up and I was on his lap, hard cock a rod at my ass. “I want you begging.” He kissed my shoulder, trailing a leisurely path of fire down my arm. I wrapped both around his neck as he bit my shoulder and a sting of pain shot through me, my gasp transforming into a sigh.

“I want you screaming,” he growled. “I want your eyes to roll back in their sockets.” He kissed a sinful line from underneath my jaw, down my neck, through the valley of my breasts. I arched into him, trying to get him to kiss every millimeter of me. He chuckled darkly, his lips finding my nipple as my arms around his neck tightened.

“I want you so thoroughly broken from pleasure,” he said, lifting his head, “that only I can put you back together again.” His eyes found mine, and when I thought I would burn alive inside out just from his look, he lips devoured me. He roamed down my back, gripping my ass, before fingering my pussy from behind, probing me. I arched up, eager for him, but he just teased me, playing with the folds and never going inside.

I tried to plunge myself against him, but he just continued to taunt me, opening me so the cool air licked my folds and I felt how empty I was. I couldn’t take it anymore. I rolled myself off him and got on all fours, put my ass in the air.

“Please,” I moaned, throwing my head over my shoulder to catch his scorching turquoise eyes. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, please just fuck me.” His lips brushed against my hip, the tickle of his beard igniting a fire inside my belly. The even lighter touch of his fingers roamed down my thighs. The heat of him rose up behind me, his lips at the small of my back.

“What a good girl,” he growled against the little bone. “So eager.” His finger slid down my folds, featherlight, a tickle that hinted at more and drove me insane. I ground my head into the floor with a moan, hoping the pain could distract me from the hollow hunger. Even the knife handle hadn’t been enough. I needed his warm flesh, thick and flexing, utterly Anteros—a cock that fit inside me like a missing part of my soul.

“I need you,” I begged—I wasn’t above it. I went into withdrawal the minute he left me. Suddenly Anteros’s rough grip was at my thighs and he was flipping me over. He ripped his shirt off and threw it to the side, pants following shortly after.

Would I ever get used to him?

Intense. Looming. Predatory. Wild hair shrouding even wilder eyes. He was all man and cut muscle, with veins marking his brawn like lightning bolts from the heavens. He was a fucking god, and I would worship him till the day I died. He leaned down, dug into my flesh, and spread my thighs. I sighed.

Finally.

I arched for him as he slid between my parted legs. His gaze flicked briefly to where my core lifted and he placed his palm on my stomach, making a low sound of approval in his throat.

“You’re going to look me in the eyes when you come,” he commanded roughly, gaze flicking back to mine. “And my name will be on your lips.”

“Yes, Boss.” I was out of my mind with need, edges softening under a lusty haze. The only thing that was clear was him. Wolfish grin. Dark, sexy beard. Sweat outlining muscles in a slick sheen.

“Please—” My beg broke into a cry as he plunged inside me. I arched off the floor, head grinding into the hardwood.

Complete.

I’m finally complete.

Anteros gripped an ankle in one hand and pulled my leg over his shoulder, spreading my legs wide in a V and plunging deeper than I thought possible. I fell into another dimension. My body disappeared into our pleasure. Each slow, careful slide of his cock catapulted me farther away. The delirious, heady rhythm had me spinning.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, free palm coming to cup my neck in a gentle, possessive grasp. My words came out in a long, slow groan, usurped by something much older and more primal than me. Groans, wails, and cries were my language now.

I shut my eyes. He was so deep it was almost painful, but with my eyes closed, I could bear it. Without sight, I was just sensation. Groans and deep breaths, the beat of him going in and out, my fingers slick along the hardwood.

“Look at me,” Anteros demanded, his own voice usurped by something warbled, rough, and raw. My eyes popped open. He was crazed, but it was a beautiful madness. Bluegreen eyes wild, body tense and tortured by our love.

“Anteros,” I cried as it hit me, then he was pulsing inside me, warm and so fucking perfect.

This must be what addiction feels like.

Needing something so badly that even while you’re doing it, you’re already craving your next fix. It was ripping me apart, burrowing into my organs, making pleasure seep into my blood so it pumped into my heart and lungs. I couldn’t breathe anything but this feeling. He burrowed deeper and deeper until he was licking my soul.

We came together, eyes locked the entire time, so when I fell, I fell with him completely.

Then everything faded to black.

* * *

I rolled over and blinked. I was in Anteros’s arms, in bed. The sun was rising, and I laughed when I realized what had happened. He’d done what he said he would do: fucked me so thoroughly I passed out. My eyes had rolled back into their sockets, and he would have to put me back together again.

“Mission accomplished.” I grinned, tilting my head back on his pectorals so I could see him. A lazy expression of contentment was on his lips. “I guess that means you’re finished.” He etched a slow line from the hollow of my collarbone to just before my slit.

“I’ll never be finished with you, mio cuore,” he said, sliding his fingers lower to spread me. My mouth parted, but no breath escaped me. “I finally have you. No hiding. I can use you whenever I want, wherever I want. You’re the Beast’s now, forever, and a beast doesn’t hibernate.”

I shivered, loving the way that sounded.

“Having second thoughts?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. In response, I snaked a hand around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.

“Promise me something,” I whispered. With his lips still pressed against mine, he growled; low and carnal, the sound went deep into my belly, indicating I should continue. “Promise me you’ll always stay the Beast.”

Anteros grinned and flipped me over as he said, “Your Beast.”

“Promise me you’ll always stay the Beast.”

Anteros grinned and flipped me over as he said, “Your Beast.”

My Beast, I thought, as he plunged into me.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time we took a break. Sheets tangled around our feet, head on Anteros’s stomach, I stared out the window. It was another clear blue winter day. Brilliant, blinding morning light streamed through the windows, setting the room on fire.

We still hadn’t cleaned up the bodies of Crazy A and Lucia. We would have to before the smell set in, but for now I was content to lie with Anteros among the ruins of our previous lives.

“What does this mean for us?” I sighed and rolled over to him. “For our future?” The sun lit his face in golden hues and the strands of his beard caught fire. I wanted to reach up and run my fingers through it, but I waited for his response.

“No matter what happens, we are inevitable.” Jaw firm, tone resolute, his gaze wasn’t on me, but out the window. His hand on my back tightened and I smiled, loving that that was where his mind went.

“I know, but what about the business?” Anteros sat up straighter, resting against the headboard. The broad planes of his muscular chest flexed and I fought the urge to tackle him and restart what had taken up all night, all morning, and most of the afternoon. As if he knew what I was thinking, he smirked.

“What do you want it to mean, mio cuore?” Reaching a finger out, he caressed the curve of my jaw. “There’s nothing standing in the way of us now, but there will also be no one following us if we leave.” He was giving me one last chance, one last out. Did I want the pictures on my wall, or did I want this? The blood. The darkness.

“Well…” I crawled up his body, giving him a big grin. “I hear there are a few openings in the mafia.”