I’m scraped raw, as much in my body as in my mind. This wasn’t just any pain scene, but a pain scene with fucking Rob, dredging up all the memories, all the fucking panic, and the guilt… It’s turned me inside out. Crushed me. The high I usually get from a scene has faded, and now there’s just… pain, and dizziness, and confusion.

But Mia is here with me. She’s probably just saved me from putting my fist through the wall, from pouring all the booze in this suite down my throat, or from taking a blade to my wrists. She has no idea, and she’s all fire and sweet rainbow clouds, tight and hot around my dick.

Keeping me grounded, keeping me fucking alive, the pain in my back a counterpoint to the pleasure of her riding me.

I know I should have her check the cuts, clean them out, but I don’t give a fuck about that right now. I need her so badly I can’t breathe, can’t do anything but push into her, arch into her, make her take me. All of me.

I shut my eyes—then open them again, unable to take another drop of darkness. I need this girl to light me up, warm me up, fit into the broken pieces, the holes cutting through me. Make me whole.

Too much to ask, maybe, but I can’t help myself. I want her too much. Like no other girl before.

And that should be a sobering realization—didn’t I think I loved a girl before? Was that a lie? Did I like her so much? Did I know her better?—but it only makes me hornier, harder, the edge of desire sharper than any blade.

She moans my name, and I rock into her deeper, groaning. I want her naked, underneath me, her legs over my shoulders, but this is already more than I’d hoped for today, and I’m not gonna complain.

Not sure I can handle more, to be honest. I’m so close to shooting my load, the need honed on the pain and despair, the anger and sorrow, so sharp it’s tearing me apart.

“Mia…” I moan her name, and she clenches around my cock. My balls are drawn tight and full, and the pressure is killing me. “Come with me.”

Her eyes are wide, her mouth open, but no sound comes. Tightening, gripping my dick as her body bows with pleasure and finally a breathless cry leaves her lips.

Her hands on my chest cramp, her nails digging into my skin, and that extra tiny kick of pain is all I need to follow her, arching and straining on the sofa, pushing into her, trying to merge with her forever.

Holy shit, this is crazy. The pleasure crushes me, and my body jerks, unable to contain it. Then it spreads like fire, racing up my spine, forcing another long moan from my throat. It’s like flying. Like falling off a cliff with your eyes wide open.

Like dying and coming back to life.

And it figures I’d go all philosophical after a scene. Today has fucked with my mind. The worry. The scene. The fact I got what I went in for… didn’t I?

A name. A clue.

And then Mia.

Yeah, having the prettiest girl ever on top of me isn’t helping unscramble my thoughts.

She’s breathing hard, her dark hair falling around her flushed face. She’s fucking gorgeous, and that well-fucked, sated expression on her face right now? Priceless. What I wouldn’t give to see it every night and every morning.

This girl is making me want things I never thought I could have, or have a right to wish for. Things reserved for other, normal guys. Guys not afraid of the dark and addicted to pain.

I lift my hand to her face and stroke over her smooth, satiny cheek. “You’re different.”

That’s not what I’d intended to say. Not sure I was going to say anything. But now I’ve said it, I know it’s true. She hasn’t run away yet, and she had every right to, after finding me bound and bloody and nearly incoherent in that suite.

For a moment, I entertain the possibility of us… as a couple. That she could be my girlfriend. Willing to stay with me. Happy to. Accepting me for who I am. Liking me for who I am.

Ha. Right.

And yet, when she starts pulling away, I grab her shoulder, stopping her. “Don’t go yet.”

Help me, Mia. Hold me.

Just for tonight.

“I have to, Rook. This was…” She shakes her head, bites her lip.

“Amazing?”

She smiles. “A mistake. One I keep making.” She shifts off me, and I arch a little, because she’s still clenched around my dick, and it hasn’t gone soft yet. She moans. “Oh God.”

Yeah. “Why a mistake? I really like you.”

“Because you’re a…” She huffs, bends her head, silky hair pooling on my bare chest. “You’re…”

“Sexy asshole?”

Her mouth quirks. “The second part is true.”

“A fantastic lay?”

“Rook…”

I love her smile. Damn, I’m smitten. “A difficult bastard? A sick fuck? What?”

“You’re out of my league.”

“Bullshit.”

“And I don’t understand you, although I’ve tried.”

“That’s why,” I tell her, my mind stumbling over what she said, my heart racing, my eyes burning, “I won’t let you walk away.” I swallow hard. “Because you tried. Don’t stop. Don’t stop trying, Mia, I...”

“Shh.”

Fuck, this is getting out of hand. I have to stop myself before I start begging, but I still can’t let go. I sit up, groaning as abused, torn muscles protest and blood trickles down my back, and bury my face in the juncture of her shoulder and neck, where she smells so sweet. “Stay. Shower with me. You have to. You know, in case I get dizzy and fall.”

Her tits jump under me when she snickers softly. “Seriously? You wanna play that card?”

“Sure. If it gets you to stay.” I grin against her warm skin, lick salt off her neck. “Help a guy out, sweet Mia.”

“I shouldn’t.”

The fuck she shouldn’t. I pull her down on top of me, making her squeal, and expertly roll her underneath me, even if the pain in my back ratchets up, making my eyes water.

“You really should,” I inform her. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

She laughs, and sighs, starts chewing on the inside of her cheek, and I know I’ve won this round.

And that’s exactly when I realize I’m willing to fight for this girl. Fight for every night, every hour with her.

Great timing, Rook. Hurray. Perfect moment to realize you’re crazy about a girl, just when you’re in the midst of a different fight—one that might get you killed…

* * *

I had serious plans for the shower when I asked her to join me, plans that involved her legs around my waist and my cock deep inside her, but as it turns out, she has to help me up from the sofa and into the shower stall. The adrenaline has ebbed together with the endorphins, and now I feel the damage on my back. The pain is deep, deeper than I expected, and my whole back burns like fire.

Hissing through my teeth, I twist my head to check myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, taking in the welts and seeping cuts.

Fucking shit. Yeah, it could have been worse. Yeah, I’ve been whipped worse on occasion. But I’d agreed to it in advance. I’d needed it, wanted it. Consented to it. What Robert did was a douchebag move, a move of revenge. He’d better not cross my path again, him or his brother. Pair of assholes.

Mia adjusts the temperature of the water in the shower stall, then turns to me. Her eyes widen when she sees my ruined back in the unforgiving light of the bathroom.

“Holy shit,” she breathes. “And you enjoyed that?”

The horror in her voice breaks me. For a moment that, I had really thought this could work, you see. She is different, only… not enough. Not like me. She can’t get it.

Can’t get me.

I walk into the shower stall, stand under the water and ball my fists when the spray hits my back. “I didn’t enjoy it,” I mutter. “But that’s only because I didn’t do it for pleasure, and Robert… he did it to hurt me, rather than please me.”

She’s still standing outside the stall. “You know each other well.”

“Yeah. Used to.”

“And you asked him for this scene.”

“I needed information.”

“That name he gave you, right? What was that about?”

Shit. Me and my big mouth. “Nothing important.”

“Right.” She’s still standing outside the shower stall, looking thoughtful. “So you and Robert aren’t friends anymore? But you used to be?”

“What’s with the interrogation, kitten?” The warm water is relaxing my muscles, taking away some of the tension and pain. “Clothes off. Get in here.”

She glares at me. From the corner of my eye, I see her slender brows draw together. She’s sexy as fuck when she’s pissed. “I agreed to stay, not to shower with you. Only staying in case you fall on your face, remember?”

“Not the way I remember it,” I mutter, and step out to set things right.

Because I want her, and because there’s something I just remembered that just doesn’t fit. Lots of somethings that don’t fit where this girl is concerned, and it’s time I delved deeper into this.

Into her.

“Rook, what are you doing?” She takes a step back, but I’m already plastered on her, dripping wet, and kissing her, backing her into the wall. Stopping her protests.

In fairness, I’d have stopped if she’d pushed me away. But she doesn’t. Her hands slip over my wet skin, over my shoulders, loop around my neck, and I do my best to multitask and undo her silly little apron and lower the zipper of her dress as I kiss her.

I’m hard again, so hard it hurts, and all I want is to get back inside her heat. Her tongue fights with mine, her small teeth scrape on my upper lip, and I growl deep in my throat. I pull the damn dress down so hard the zipper on her back rips, the whole dress rips, as if I’m the Incredible Hulk, and I drag the flimsy material down her shoulders.

Breaking the kiss, I lean back. It occurs to me I have never seen her naked, even though I’ve fucked her and licked her pretty pussy. As I drag the fabric down, revealing her bra, I can’t help a moan of appreciation.

Shit, the girl’s curvy. Her legs are slender, but her tits are round and heavy, filling her bra, spilling over the top.

“Fuck, woman.” I can’t stand the suspense any longer. She’s biting her lip, and has her hands on my arms, and I need to see her bared. “These are mine.”

Before she opens her smartass mouth to reply, I undo her bra and lower the straps, letting her tits free.

Goddammit, they’re perfect.

I cup them, weigh them in my hands, bury my head between them, nuzzle them. “You’re fucking beautiful,” I tell them.

“You talking to my boobs?” Her laughter cuts off when I suck one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the hard tip, then switching to the other one. “God.”

Her hands slide up the back of my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair, as I take my time, alternating between her perfect tits, sucking on her nipples until they’re super hard and pretty. Until she’s rubbing herself on me, humping my leg.

“You should be… showering,” she moans.

“This feels more important,” I whisper against her soft flesh.

“But you… Your back.”

“All better already.” I pull back to shove my hand inside her panties again, rub her wet, hard clit. “Soon even better.”

“Oh crap…”

I lift one of her legs around my hip and grab a condom from the bowl of goodies so kindly provided by the hotel to its rich customers. “Put it on me.”

“You like giving orders.”

“You have no idea.”

She has to lower her hands to roll the condom on my cock, and I pin her against the wall, looking down where her nimble fingers fumble with the rubber.

Not experienced. I like that. Not a virgin, or a slut, either. Just a pretty girl—who is much more than she seems.

“Why did you have a flashlight?” I mutter, watching as she finally manages to place the condom properly on and starts rolling it down my dick.

“Huh?”

“The flashlight you had with you when you found me. You didn’t turn on the lights. Left the cart with your supplies outside the suite, you said, but it wasn’t there when we came out. You weren’t supposed to be there, were you? In that suite? What were you looking for?”

Her fingers stop on my hard-on, lightly touching, green eyes flicking up to me. Her lips part. “What?”

“What. Were you. Looking for?” I smile at her, then push into her hand because I can’t help myself. It feels good. “Who are you, pretty Mia? Really?”

Her eyes go stormy, that soft mouth hard. “That’s none of your business, Roderick Carter. I am—”

I slip a finger into her pussy, and she gasps. “You are?”

“I’m… oh shit.” She grabs for my arms as her knees buckle. I stroke her quickly, roughly, and she’s already primed from our previous lovemaking and the love I showed her titties.

Love.

The word echoes in my mind as I fingerfuck her, as she tries to find her words.

“It’s… none of your business… Rook!”

I pull out my fingers, and lift her leg higher to push into her. She cries out when I do, her pussy snug around my cock, tightening more as I shove as deep as I can go.

Ah shit. So good. I hold there for a long moment, savoring the feeling, trying to calm myself.

Because it’s turn-about time. My turn to ask questions. Can’t screw this up.

Pun not intended but fitting.

“You’re not cleaning staff,” I tell her. “You were sneaking around just like me. Looking for clues. Are you on your own, or working for someone?”

“I… I am…” Her tits bounce as I start thrusting into her, bracing a hand on the wall, using the other to keep her leg up. “I’m not…”

“You’re not what?” I mutter, my attention starting to wander—God I love her tits. And her pussy. And her mouth. The way her lashes flutter as I pound harder into her, as I change the angle to rub on her clit. Which makes her clench like a vise around my dick, until I see stars. “Hot damn…”

“I’m not… Dammit, Rook.”

I’m pounding into her in earnest now, chasing after the pleasure, the release of the pressure in my balls, in my head. Something has to give. I snarl as I drive deeper into her, crushing my mouth to hers, needing her taste on my tongue.

She sinks her teeth into my lower lip, her hot pussy tightening again and again around my dick, and my fucking control snaps.

I shove her back against the wall, slam into her so hard she cries out in my mouth, drop my hand between us to rub her swollen little clit, and she comes apart.

I follow her a second later, finally letting go—all that tension, all that anger and fear, all my want for her. The release jerks me about with its violence, turns my muscles to jelly. I slump against her, panting for breath, struggling to regroup my scattered thoughts.

“You were looking for something,” I tell her, holding her pinned to the wall. “What? Could it be…?” I think of the places where I met her, the people I met her with and groan. “No. Dammit, no.”

“No, what?” she grumbles, and it’s cute, and sexy, and my dick valiantly tries to harden again, but no dice. Not yet.

Besides… “What. Were you. Looking for?”

“None of your business.”

“But maybe it is. Why were you with Alfred at the Red Thorn the other night? Why were you in Malthus’s office? What’s going on here?”

She pushes ineffectively on my chest, her cheeks red, her brows knitted. So fucking gorgeous. “Me? What were you doing there? And with Robert O’Connor? One might think you like corrupt, douchey people. Maybe you do business with them? Launder your dirty dollars together?”

“Me?” I snort and brace my arm on the wall by her head, because man, this orgasm really took it out of me, and my back hurts like a bitch. “I’m not a saint, kitten, but I’m not one of them, either.”

Her eyes narrow. She scratches her nails down my pecs, and I barely suppress a moan of pleasure. “Not one of them. Who are they?”

“I think you know damn well who.” I cock my head at her, pin her with my gaze as I’m doing with my body. “This is personal for you, isn’t it?”

She hesitates, but then she nods.

Damn. It’s always personal when it comes to the fucking Organization.

“Who did they ruin?” I ask her.

She looks away. Swallows hard. “My grandfather. And from there my whole family went to shit.”

Fuck. I hate the shadows crowding her eyes, the sadness in them.

And God, she has a filthy mouth on her. I like that. I like how different she is from all the girls I’ve fucked.

I’ve fucked gorgeous girls, girls who flogged me and tied me up and played with me, and then I played with them, girls in the Scene who understand that part of me. I’ve also fucked a few girls outside the Scene, rich, clever girls who spoke fluent French and had perfect table manners, who could recite Shakespeare and loved my dick, but couldn’t understand my obsession with pain.

And then came Mia. Not rich. Not in the Scene. No manners. No violence or snark, either. Soft and pretty and sticking her pretty nose everywhere she shouldn’t.

She’s investigating the Organization, like I am. She’s on my side. Or at least against the Organization.

Same thing? Not necessarily. Enemy of my enemy doesn’t mean jack when you have so many enemies around.

But somehow, I trust her.

Damn.