She’d had wild, crazy very rough sex. Her body was sore. Every muscle hurt, but deep inside, she could already feel the hunger growing. Maybe she had a sex addiction, but knowing it and stopping it were two different things. The fire between her legs grew. The tension gathered until it was no small itch, but a craving she wasn’t going to be able to resist. She had to get away from Remy.

Bijou rolled off the bed and landed on her hands and knees, desperate to escape herself.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Remy demanded, a snarl in his voice.

She looked over her shoulder at him. Bijou knew she shouldn’t have been afraid. He was rough, but every time he touched her, he made certain she felt pleasure. She was too sensitive, her body on fire. It didn’t make any sense to her that she hadn’t felt sated. In a way she found it terrifying. She was as afraid of herself as she was of him.

Remy’s eyes went totally feral. He reminded her of a great jungle cat about to devour his prey. A single sound escaped, a small note of confusion, or worse, excitement, and she turned away from, him, scrambling across the floor on all fours.

She tried to crawl away, her body still shuddering with pleasure, hungry for more, but afraid and confused by her own desperate needs. Near tears, Bijou couldn’t imagine how she’d gone from being frigid with no physical interest in a man to such an insatiable, sensual creature who kept enticing and inciting Remy to more.

He growled a warning and was on her with the speed of a cat, catching her from behind and dragging her hips back into him. His heavy erection pressed against her slick body from behind. Remy wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her still while he thrust into her, filling her. She was so slick with the mixture of their sex, and she should have been easy to enter, but she wasn’t, her body fighting the invasion and giving way reluctantly. That stretching sensation had a bite to it, but she didn’t care. The small edge of pain only heightened the pleasure for her, humiliating her more. What was wrong with her?

He licked along her back, lapping at the tiny beads of sweat. His breath was hot as he alternated between teeth and tongue, making his way up her spine to the back of her neck. He ceased moving, holding her still, his body locked with hers. She pushed and bucked, but he refused to move, holding her there. Waiting.

Her heart began to pound again. Her breasts swayed. Her hair hung in damp tangles around her face, sweeping the floor. His shaft swelled, pushed deep and spread her tight sheath muscles even more when it didn’t seem possible.