A simple question, untainted by fear or doubt. That’s how much she trusted me. Shit, how I wanted to be worthy of her trust. If anyone was fearful here, it was me because six months apart had taught me only one thing; I needed her with every fiber of my sadistic being.

“You’re home.” I peeled the hoodie from my torso and tossed it on the floor, then I lifted a knee and slowly climbed onto the bed. Crawling over the mattress like a lethal predator, I settled my knees between her spread thighs.

“Where’s home?” she asked, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her dark curls trailed behind her in a riot on the pillow. I fisted my hand in those silky locks, keeping her immobile, and teased her mouth with mine. She darted her tongue out to wet her lips. Fuck, she was already killing me, and I hadn’t even kissed her yet.

“Your home is underneath me, sweetheart.” I inched back, parted her jacket single-handedly, and took in the cleavage peeking from between the unbuttoned collar of her purple top. I couldn’t help but wonder how many assholes had raped that expanse of flesh with their eyes as she went about her day.

She pulled at her bindings, her neck straining as she eyed the cuffs trapping her wrists. “Afraid I’ll run?”

“I don’t know,” I said, quirking a brow in challenge. “Will you?” Grabbing her chin, I ran my tongue along the seam of her mouth, but she twisted her head to the side. “You’re mad at me,” I said.

She scoffed, refusing to meet my eyes. “Hurt, mad. Take your pick, Rafe.”

I winced. Hurt was much worse than mad, and she was both. I unlatched the buckles and gathered her hands above her head, telling her without words that she wasn’t to move.

And that was the twisted beauty of us—we understood each other without making a sound. She’d lie there and take it, no matter how fucking angry or hurt she was. Silencing a groan, I gripped the collar of her shirt and ripped it down the middle. In the midst of flying buttons, my gaze traveled over the black satiny cups of her bra before coming to a standstill on the white bandage that covered her belly. Rage ignited, so intense and hot it was nearly uncontrollable. I was ready to blister her fucking ass.

“Rule number one,” I bit out between clenched teeth. “The only one allowed to hurt you is me.” I wrapped my fingers around her throat. Squeezed. Watched her startled eyes grow huge.

Frightened.

Fuck.

Breathing hard, I loosened my grip. I’d learned a lot about control during our separation, but I wasn’t about to push it—not when it came to her.

“Did you cut yourself again?”

“No,” she wheezed. “Look underneath.”