“Not like that,” he says. “Physically.”

“Why would you—”

He meets my eyes, lust heavy in his gaze. “I like it rough, sweetheart. And you’ve been through enough.”

Part of me rears back and gets ready to run. Part of me screams to abort this mission. The alarm sounds like an endless refrain of haven’t you learned your lesson?

Another part of me is curious. Alive and electric with what Mateo’s just said to me. It seems… completely at odds with the person I know him to be. Rough? But he’s not like Rhys or like my father. It must mean something other than cruel violence.

“Show me.”

“No.”

“Yes,” I demand. “I invited you in. And now I want you to show me what you mean.”

He looks off to the side—a moment of indecision—but then he’s crossing the room. Then he’s close enough to touch me. Mateo’s fingers graze the sides of my neck and slip lower. He circles one of my wrists with a fingertip. He’s being incredibly gentle.

And then he takes both of my wrists and pins them behind my back. It’s not a particularly violent movement but I gasp anyway. This is a loss of control. It makes me shiver. Mateo uses his other hand to tip my chin up so he can look into my eyes.

“Okay?” he says.

I nod, but he keeps watching. My breathing, I think. He wants to make sure I’m not hyperventilating. Not afraid.

I am afraid. But it’s the kind that heats my skin and makes my thighs press together. The length of my spine feels molten.

Mateo dips his head to the side of my neck. Soft kisses. They’re a distraction. He’s moving us. Pushing and pushing and pushing until we’re at the wall. At the last moment, he changes the position of my wrists. Pins them above my head. He’s never used his strength like this with me before, and it takes a lot of effort to keep my breath from becoming too shallow.

I don’t want him to stop.

Mateo pushes a knee between my legs, and my mind collapses down onto the pressure. His solid thigh. My softest parts. We’re both fully clothed but I feel naked. Completely exposed.