Now I was the one hurting her, and I couldn’t stop, couldn’t even grasp why I needed to push her to the breaking point. Not even hunting Brock down and torturing the fucker to death had eased this thing inside me.

But she did. Every salty drop glistening on her cheek, every howl of pain quieted the raging river of lunacy storming through me.

She was my elixir to sanity.

And I was showing her the blackness that tainted my soul. I was giving her what she had begged for in that dark tunnel—the guy my amnesia had nearly killed forever.

I wound an arm around her middle, mindful of her tattoo, and brought her upright until we kneeled together on the bed. I was deep inside her, and falling even deeper as she leaned her head back on my shoulder and stared at me with tear-filled eyes. Fuck, her ass felt good, closing around my cock with unbelievable tightness. My gaze lowered to her throat. That expanse of skin tempted me, and I thought about curling my hand around her neck, but something held me back.

The flashes of blood spurting from Perrone’s neck; the euphoria of choking every last breath from him. And more recently, the copious amount of adrenaline that had flushed my veins as I meted out what Brock had coming to him. He’d been the only one to escape the police, but he hadn’t eluded me.

I couldn’t risk losing control with Alex—she meant the fucking world to me, and I wasn’t about to endanger her. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“I love you,” I whispered, my lips nearing hers, my cock nestling a little deeper, making her wince. I searched the green sea of her eyes, hoping I’d find forgiveness for taking her like the monster I was.

But I only saw pain.

I reached for her clit and flicked lightly. Her mouth opened, forming a delicate O. I was about to come, was too fucking close, so I tempered myself and gave her the time she needed to catch up. Her body flushed with impending orgasm as I worked my fingers in and out of her cunt. Even in the dim room, overwhelmed by winter and the shadows of night, the sheen of her pink-tinged skin was unmistakable.

“Crash with me,” I said before claiming her mouth, adding pressure to her clit, smothering her throaty cries that didn’t speak the language of pain, loathing, or even anger. Those muffled howls were an oath of uninhibited surrender. They were pure fucking ecstasy.

6. Whore - Alex

6. WHORE - ALEX

“No!” Rafe thrashed beside me in bed, pulling me from sleep. “Get off of me,” he said with an agonized groan. Undeniable pain laced his voice, and his helplessness suspended me in a state of horror.