Amazing. That was the word Marcus would use to describe Jax Cassidy at that moment. He’d told her what he was, killed in front of her. He’d fully expected her to run for the hills. Instead, she stood before him and challenged him. Brave, brave girl. So why should her command to strip surprise him? Of course she would take charge. Of course she would try to handle him. Use him. Make him believe that the job was the only reason she would give him her body.

He didn’t buy it.

He knew she was sexually excited. He could smell it on her. See it in the sharp flare of her nostrils, feel the heat of her want through her open pores. There was no way she could deny it. In truth, he couldn’t imagine her doing so. She was all ballsy honesty, more likely to slap his face than lie to it. Yet, beneath it all, he detected fear. And he knew it was founded. Her blood did not lie. She had been brutalized by a man. He’d sensed it the first time he’d tasted her.

It was a wonder she could feel desire for him at all. But she did.

That fact not only increased his own desire, making blood pulse in his cock with the same thundering beat of his heart, but it also told him their intense attraction was unprecedented. For them both. That in and of itself intrigued him. As a human, he had never felt such violent desire for a woman. To feel it now, when he was soulless, electrified him.

After he’d had her, would his want for her lesson, or would it burn as savagely in his veins as it did now? He hoped it flared brighter. At least for a while.

Unhurried, he silently watched her. Her eyes boldly held his. Sparks of excitement gave them a preternatural glint.

He knew she had motives other than sex on her mind, but so did he.

He had questions and only she had the answers. Oh, he could snag one of her cronies, but it would not be nearly as interesting wrestling the information from one of them as it would be her. Besides, men bled more than women, and he wasn’t in the mood to get his hands dirty. Not that way. He understood her need for control, but he would not give it to her. Never. That was his alone to command.

He unbuttoned his fitted black shirt one button at a time. The slight tremble in his fingers surprised him. Then it angered him. While she was most definitely a cut above every other woman he had had, she was still just a woman. And a conniving one at that. In a few minutes, he would find out if his fire would be extinguished or burn hotter.

Taking a step forward, he pulled the tails of his shirt out from his trousers. To his surprise, Jax put her hand up. “Stop.”

He hesitated for a heartbeat before he stopped. Her fear had spiked. He wasn’t the man who’d brutalized her. Letting go of the fabric, he dropped his hands to his sides. “Come here,” he softly commanded.

She shook her head but stepped toward him anyway. When she stopped an arm’s length away, he nudged her chin up with his hand. He saw the reflection of his fiery gaze in her eyes. “I won’t hurt you like the other one.”

Her body stiffened. The color drained from her cheeks. Slapping his hand away, she stalked to the other side of the room. When she spun around to face him, her eyes blazed like emerald coals. “I don’t know what you think you know, but give me enough respect by not pretending with me.”

He cocked a brow. “Pretend? How so?”

“You tell me you want to fuck me from the inside out. How am I supposed to take that?”

“Exactly as it’s intended.” She shook her head and looked at him, incredulous. He explained, “You and me, we’re driven by pure animal instinct. And while there may be some hurt involved, it’s the good kind. The kind that makes you want more. That’s how it will be between us, Jax.” He stalked closer to her until only inches separated them. “Hard, furious, primal.” He traced a finger along her bottom lip. “That’s how you take it.”

Her body trembled, and he felt her desire shift. While she was intrigued, her fear evolved into something more complex. She no longer feared just physical pain but emotional torment as well. He smiled to himself.

She had every right to fear his emotional attack. He didn’t like to be played, and, though he was Jonesing hard for her, he would extract the information he needed one way or another. Either by seduction or . . . by torment.

He frowned for a moment at the thought of hurting her. Of extinguishing a light that burned so bright. But then he reminded himself of who he was. What he was.

He preferred seduction to pain and would not hesitate to use more extreme measures. But only if he had to.

“Why should I give you what you want?” she softly demanded.

“Because,” he answered as softly, “it’s what you want, too.”

“Then the chase will end.”

Ah, she sounded disappointed. He crooked a smile.

Marcus slid his arm around her waist and, with his free hand, slid the thick velour robe from her body. She caught her breath. Behind his trousers, his cock flared. He pressed her to his bare chest and fought the sublime feeling of her tits digging into him. “And then,” he softly said as he lowered his lips to hers, “it will begin again. But with higher stakes.” And although he had no choice but to destroy her when her usefulness ended, all the same, he’d make them both burn with pleasure first.

His body caught fire when she kissed him back. Her lips were so soft, like a newborn’s skin. Her ardor was open, honest, and innocent in its humanness. Her tongue swirled across his lips, along the tips of his fangs, touching him more deeply than if he’d been inside of her. He swelled against her, tightening his hold. She did not pull away. No, to his surprise and pleasure, she melded more intimately into him.

His darkness threatened to overcome him. He wanted to sink his fangs into her, drink his fill of her as he fucked her. He squeezed his eyes shut as he envisioned doing just that.

Her heart beat frantically against his chest. The whoosh of her warm blood as it coursed recklessly through her veins called to him to take it. He fisted his hand into her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her long, creamy neck. He opened his eyes, and through the fire of his passion, he saw true fear in hers. Her wide eyes stared helplessly at him. Her breath pulsed in short, harsh puffs against his cheeks. Her muscles tightened. Yet her eyes, though terrified, did not say no. He released her anyway and carefully stepped to the other side of the room. Why he gave her quarter, he did not know.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he turned to face her. “Tell me who sent you and why,” he hoarsely demanded, knowing damn well he should have begun this little tryst with an interrogation first.

“I told you, I’m an independent.”

Despite his frustration, he almost smiled. Even when frightened, she gave as good as she got. The image of her taking out those gangbangers earlier burned bright in his memory. It had been all he’d been able to do not to come to her rescue—until the very end, when she’d needed it. Her moxy had been admirable then, it was admirable now.

But he wanted the truth.

He lowered his head, as if he was preparing to attack. Of course, she read his intent and did the same. “You have no idea who you’re tangling with, Jax Cassidy.”

She moved around in the small space. “I guess you didn’t get the memo about who you were tangling with.”

“I spent years learning the fine art of torture. Do you want me to extract the information I want that way?”

“I’ve spent years learning how not to give in to the most heinous of torturers.”

He read a bluff when he saw one.

He grabbed her right arm and yanked her hard toward him, but not before she got in a solid kick to his groin. He grunted, but the pain was gone as soon as it registered. “You shouldn’t have done that.” He yanked her around and, with her back to his chest, he bear-hugged her. As she struggled against him in a vain attempt to free herself, her ass rubbed against his cock. The rage of his desire unbearable. Damn her!

“Tell me, damn it!” he hissed against her ear. “Or I’ll force it from you.”

She shook her head.

“I’ll make you wish you were never born.”

“Do your worst then.”

Marcus counted slowly to ten. As he did, his passion waged war with his control. If she didn’t relent, he’d be forced to show her the true animal he was. Roughly, he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. She landed spread-eagled on the comforter. Stunned, she stared at him.

He crawled over her and threatened her. “I’m not going to give you a second chance!”

“I don’t want one!” she screamed.

He laughed harshly and shook his head. “Then, my lovely, I won’t give you one.”

He dug his fingers into her thick hair and brought her lips up to his. “Kiss me,” he commanded. Her short, warm breaths pulsated against his lips. He could smell her fury mingled with her desire. He was on the verge of losing what little control he still possessed.

She stunned him when she grasped his head to her, and in a mad rush, lips against lips, teeth against teeth, and tongue against tongue, she kissed him.

Jax’s body exploded with sensation. The overload terrifyingly exhilarating. She felt as if she was free-falling. No fear. No anger at herself for giving in to what they both wanted. Her endorphins had shoved it all aside as her instinct to mate took over. And that was what it boiled down to at its most basic. Forget her mission. She wanted Marcus Cross, a dominant male, to take her, Jax Cassidy, a dominant female, and do what came natural to every propagating mammal on the earth. Mate.

In a flash of movement, Marcus rid himself of his clothing, then his hands grabbed her ass and his knee parted her thighs. His swollen cock jutted against her hip. She wanted him to slow down, to savor this—this mad rush of need—to give her time. To adjust, to prepare. It had been so long. The image of Carlos Montes’s sweaty, fat body undulating on top of her as he’d tried unsuccessfully to stick his little dick in her swirled in front of her.

God, she thought she had locked that part of her life firmly away.

Jax cried out as a wave of fear returned. Cross stilled above her. She opened her eyes to find his blazing blue ones quietly questioning her. Embarrassment engulfed her. She could do this. It was just sex!

He raised his hand to her. It took every bit of control Jax possessed not to flinch. Gently, he dug his fingers into her hair, cupped the back of her head with his big palm, raised up, and pressed her softly into the comforter. For a long minute, he peered at her. Giving her time to work through what she had to. His sudden patience, completely out of character for the hard-ass he was, softened her. Her body loosened.

When he moved and settled against her, Jax held her breath. But instead of taking her, he kissed her. He took her face into both of his hands, lowered his lips to hers, and, in a light, reverent, way, he kissed her. The gesture nearly did her in. Anger, embarrassment and a dawning sense of gratitude for his consideration overwhelmed her. She felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes. Desperately she tried to stay them, but they leaked out.

“Don’t cry,” he softy said against her lips. His kiss deepened. She tasted her tears on his tongue. His body swelled, yet he did not push, though she wanted him to.

When he dropped his lips to a turgid nipple and sucked, Jax closed her eyes and arched.

Damn.

He took his time, savoring her until she felt wet between the legs and a deep buzzing of desire inside of her. He released her nipple and licked it, then licked her neck and chin, then hovered above her lips. Jax panted like she had just run a marathon. When he slid his hand down her belly, she hissed in a sharp breath. Slowly, his fingers brushed across her soft, downy mound and found her clitoris.

“Jesus,” she gasped. His fingertips slid languorously across her moist curls.

“Now, tell me, Jax, who do you work for?”

“I’m”—she gasped as his fingers dipped just slightly into her wet opening—“self-employed.”

His hand cupped her mound. She nearly came. He increased the pressure. “Stop—” she gasped.

“Not until you tell me what I want to know.”

“Nothing until you finish what you started.”

He smiled against her skin and trailed his lips down her belly to the inside of her right thigh. His hot breath singed her. His teeth scraped along her skin. Her entire body quivered. She could feel the moisture between her legs pool.

“Tell me,” he softly urged as his teeth scraped harder into her skin.

Jax moaned and arched. “I told you, I work alone. I’m gathering intel on Senator Rowland for an ultraconservative group of investors who want to keep a very low profile. The two guys with me work for them too.”

He licked the crease of her thigh where it met her pubis. “What kind of information?”

She swallowed hard and bit her bottom lip. “Anything that can cost him the election.”

He nipped her thigh. “You’re lying.”

“No—no lies,” she swore and almost believed herself.

His body stiffened; he knew she was not being honest. Would he carry out his threats? He slid back up her body and lowered his lips to hers, deeply kissing her. The rush of sensation was dizzying. He pulled slightly away and said, “If we’re going to work together, there must be trust, Jax.”

His implication that they might work together, as well as his asking for her trust, startled her. “I trust you not to hurt me,” she said. And at that moment she meant it.

His eyes softened. “Ah, Jax, you make me forget what I am.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and said, “You make me forget everything.”

He parted her thighs with his knees and gently pushed against her. Slowly she opened up to him. Keenly he watched her. This was it, the point of no return. She ran her fingers down his back and arched her back. He entered her then. Slowly. Fully. Deliciously. Shock waves of pleasure crashed through her entire body.

Jax’s eyes widened. Oh, God. Marcus smiled and lowered his lips to hers. “You’re perfect.”

Emotion she didn’t know she possessed welled up inside her chest. He moved slowly, reverently, as if she would break if he pushed too hard. His gentleness cut the last vestige of hesitation from her soul, and she gave herself completely up to him.