“Bowls?”

  “Top left.”

  Instead of asking this time, she opened one of the only two drawers looking for utensils. Her eyes widened when they lit on the steak knives next to the spoons. Couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that. Her hand hovered over a knife. Could she do it? Could she sink it into his flesh and twist and turn it?

  “Do you really think you can take me down?” he asked calmly as if reading her thoughts.

  She stared at the knife another few seconds before grabbing a spoon and two forks, filling the bowls and carrying them to the table. It wasn’t the right time. Catching him unaware was key.

  He leaned over the bowl and inhaled before forking up a hefty bite, and scarfed down the rest of the bowl before speaking.

  “Not bad,” he said.

  “Thanks.” It wasn’t much of a compliment. It might not have been a gourmet meal, but it was damn tasty and one hundred times better than the slop he’d cooked. She wasn’t finished, and it was difficult to eat with him staring at her so she tried to distract him. “Who are the Martins?”

  He scowled and she damned herself for opening her mouth, but the scowl eventually faded. “Family of the man I killed.”

  She swallowed a mouthful of mac and cheese and the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “Oh. Are you expecting them to come after you?”

  He shrugged. “I was. But after being out three years … maybe they can’t find me. Maybe they don’t have the balls. Maybe after thirteen years, it just isn’t important to them anymore. People move on.”

  “Is that why you moved out here? To hide?”

  “I don’t need to hide. They show up, they die. I moved out here because I needed … space, privacy, to be left the hell alone.”

  She found herself nodding and sighing. “I completely understand. I’m sorry I invaded your space.” And she truly was sorry. Not just because her invasion had gotten her into trouble, but because she understood that need. Felt it down to her core.

  She couldn’t read the expression that crossed his face as he studied her intently, but finally he shrugged and leaned back in the chair. “You’ve proved to be … entertaining.”

  Her face heated. Hell, her whole body flushed as she thought of how she’d taken him into her mouth. How he’d played her body until he’d had her wanting him even though rationally she knew it was stupid and wrong.

  Uncomfortable, she gathered the dishes and carried them to the sink. She eyed the drawer with the knives but forced her gaze away. If she kept playing nice, he’d let her go. He had to. At least she had to believe that.

  Strong arms wrapped around her before she could turn around. His muscled body pressed against her. “Still want to stab me?”

  “W-what?” She feigned ignorance.

  His hand slid lower slowly until he was stroking lightly between her legs. She shuddered but fought the urge to spread her legs to give him better access. Was she seriously so fucked up in the head that she burned for this psycho? Did Stockholm Syndrome set in that fast?

  “Go clean up your stuff,” he said gruffly as he pulled away from her. The action was so abrupt, she almost fell backward. She steadied herself and shot him a silent question, not sure she understood.

  “The bedroom. Clean up your stuff.”

  She walked toward the bedroom on shaky legs. Was that it? Was he letting her go now? Her knife was in there. He hadn’t taken it. Oh hell. This was it. He wasn’t even following her, just leaving her to her own devices. She kept her steps calm until she turned the corner then she ran on tiptoes into the room. She grabbed her knife first and held it to her like a lifeline while sloppily shoving the other items into her pack.

  If she could just get past him, hold the knife on him, and get to the door, she was pretty sure she could outrun him. Maybe. She hoped. She pulled on her shorts and tucked the knife into the waistband. If he was about to let her go, she didn’t want to pull it on him and piss him off and make him change his mind.

  She steeled herself and made her way out of the room, pack on her back. He was standing in the living area staring her way.

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Going somewhere?”

  “I-uh. I thought…”

  “I only asked you to clean up the mess.”

  Her hand instinctively grabbed at the knife on her waist as he advanced on her. He stopped short and held out his hand. “Give it to me. You can have it back when you leave.”

  Her fingers trembled as she pulled the knife from under the baggy t-shirt and pulled it from its sheath. “Just let me leave, Bane. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  The smile that pulled at his lips left her cold inside. “Hurt,” he mused. “You have no idea the hurt I’ve endured.” He took another step forward. “You … the only time I feel relief from the torment I’ve endured is when I’m touching you. I’m not ready to let go of that yet.”

  Another step put him just in reach if she slashed out at him. She told herself to do it. Her mind screamed for her to do it and run but her feet stayed planted.

  “Am I really so bad?” he asked. “Do you know how much I’ve wanted to plow into every hole in your tight little body? To feel the brief relief that comes with it?” He reached out and stroked her wrist. The knife trembled in her hand.

  “But you … in the shower,” she accused with less heat than she should have.

  “I gave you a choice. I even made you come first. You didn’t have to do it. Admit it. You wanted me.”

  She shook her head fiercely in denial. “No. I only did it so you’d let me go.”

  A hurt look that quickly turned to anger crossed his face. “Liar. You want me now.” His grip tightened on her wrist, the knife slipping from her grasp and clanking on the hardwood floor. “Ease a little more of my pain, Gia. Make me feel like a man again.”

  It took her three tries to swallow the lump in her throat. His eyes projected a sadness, a pain that made her heart ache for him when she shouldn’t. It wasn’t her fault he’d suffered in prison. It wasn’t her fault his sister had died. But it was his fault that he’d tied her up and kept her against her will and forced unwanted sexual advances on her. Unwanted. She thought of how he’d made her crave his touch and unwanted felt like a lie.

  He kicked the knife across the floor and cupped her cheek, stroking his thumb lightly across her bottom lip. Her mouth parted, the tenderness of his touch surprising her. She cringed as the possibilities of what had happened to him in prison to make him not feel like a man entailed.

  She didn’t stop him as he slid her pack off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor. She was frozen in a whirlwind of confusion, indecision. When his lips met hers in a gentle but passionate kiss, she melted into him. The kiss was so soft and tender and his body trembled against her as if the tenderness frightened him. It was nice, sweet, but something inside her craved the other side of him. The harsh, forceful side.

  Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, deepening the kiss. That was all the encouragement he needed. Maybe that’s exactly what he needed. Needed someone to want him. He moaned and ground his erection against her, his tongue delving deep into her mouth, taking charge, now demanding her response and she gave it.

  How long had it been since someone wanted her with a desperation that made her head spin? How long had it been since someone made her want a man’s touch the way he did?

  She’d been so caught up in the kiss, she hadn’t noticed he’d been walking her backwards until she hit the wall.

  His fingers fumbled with the button on her shorts. “Tell me you want me. Not because I promise to let you go. Not because you’re scared. Tell me you want me because you mean it. Just let me hear it one time. Make me feel it and I will let you go.”

  His gaze implored hers with need, pain, and she couldn’t deny him in that moment. She slid her hands across his rock hard abs and up his chest and neck, and then cupped his face. “I want you, Bane. I don’t know what it is, but I do.” She looked down at his hands gripping the button of her shorts. “Feel how bad I want you.”

  Bane squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. He popped the button and unzipped her shorts, letting them slip to the floor before slowly sliding his hand between her legs and fingering her juices. Something like a growl rumbled deep in his chest as he shoved a finger inside her. She gasped, her hips jutting forward searching for more.

  He pushed her t-shirt up with his free hand. She took the hint and whipped it over her head. He licked and nipped at her nipples until they were tight and raw as he pumped a finger in and out of her.

  “I want to fuck you hard, rough,” he said through gritted teeth, seeming to have only a thread of control. “To fuck away all the memories eating at my soul.” He picked her up and sat her on the arm of the couch, grabbed her knees and roughly jerked them apart so she was completely open to him.

  Her stomach clenched, goose bumps broke out over every inch of her skin as he stood in front of her looking as though he wanted to break her. His muscles bunched as he shucked off his shorts. His cock stood high and hard and she yearned to know how it’d feel deep inside her.

  Suddenly he dropped to his knees, shoved a thumb inside her, and latched onto her clit with his lips. He sucked her, lapped at her, moaning and grunting as if she was his last meal.

  Her nails dug into the leather of the couch arm as she fought to keep from falling backward. Sensations rocked from her pussy through her stomach and out every limb. Her nerves sizzled as the pressure built and finally exploded, her juices squirting. He slurped at them, rubbed his stubble around in them, and seemed to revel in it.

  When her body started jerking uncontrollably from too much stimulation, he shot to his feet, pulled her to him and fed her her own orgasm before flipping her around and pressing her face down ass up over the arm of the couch. He rammed into her, not sparing an inch.

  She gasped and cried out.

  His fingers dug into her hips. “Fucking Christ almighty,” he said in a strained tone. His breaths hissed in and out of his lungs, but he stayed still, buried deep. “I want to fucking hurt you.” His fingers dug deeper into her hips and she bit back a squeal. “But I don’t want to.”

  ****

  The urge to fuck her like a goddamn wild animal beat inside his heart, his soul, hammered in his brain. He’d suffered unthinkable injustices in prison and wanted to wipe it away inside her. Wanted to punish her for all those wrongdoings, but another part of him didn’t want to. She was beautiful, gorgeous, a godsend that demanded to be treated with care and respect, but that wasn’t him anymore.

  His cock pulsed, demanding to be satisfied, to pound, to batter, to ram.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes half lidded, mouth parted seductively, and breathing coming in sweet pants. “Fuck me, Bane. Use me. I want it.”

  Yes, a godsend. He spread her ass cheeks, that pink pucker calling to him, but not this time. Her juicy pussy was a heavenly sheath sucking at him, clenching around him, and it would take the first round of his wrath, his pain, his fucking need.

  He pulled back and slammed into her unmercifully. She cried out but said “yes.” Over and over he slammed into her. Smacking sounds reverberated in the room. Juicy suction noises and the feminine smell of her filled his head, and all he could think about was that this was his reward. His reward for righting an injustice. His reward for ten years of suffering the penalties of righting that injustice. Her perfect pussy was his, his prize, his godsend.

  His legs shook, his balls pulling tight against his body as liquid fire ran the length of his cock. At the last second, he pulled free and stroked his load onto that pink asshole. Spurt after spurt of cum coated her delectable crack. He staggered from the powerful sensation but gripped her plump ass cheek with one hand, his still hard dick in the other.

  He pressed the head against her impossibly tight hole and pushed forward. She squealed and the sound spurred him on. “I want in this hole too, Gia. Let me in.”

  When she raised her ass as much as she could in her restricted position, he almost fell to his knees and wept. She wanted it. She was giving herself to him in whatever way he wanted and goddamn he was going to take it.

  He flicked her swollen clit with a fingertip while rubbing the head of his cock against her asshole. The more she bucked and moaned, the more pressure he put on her ass. When the head popped inside, she screamed his name and he almost came right then. Her body jerked and twitched and he didn’t stop flicking her clit until she calmed.

  Slowly, he pushed farther inside. So tight, almost too tight. A sheen of sweat covered her gorgeous skin. He wanted to ram into her, the urge to hurt her hard to fight, but he did. He eased himself all the way in. It’d been so long since he’d experienced this kind of want and acquiescence from a woman, he wanted to treasure it, savor it, brand it into his being.

  He leaned forward and wrapped her hair around his wrist, tugging firmly.

  “Who’s fucking your ass, Gia?” He needed to know she wasn’t daydreaming, fantasizing that she was with someone else.

  With her head tilted back and him rocking his cock in her ass, her words came out in choked huffs. “You. Bane.”

  “Say it louder,” he demanded. “Mean it.”

  “You. Are. Fucking my ass. Bane.”

  “Tell me you like it. No. Tell me you fucking love it.”

  “Love it. More.”

  Jesus Christ. That ecstasy wrapped around his balls, his dick, and he was about to fucking shoot off again. “Tell me you want me to come in your ass. Tell me now.”

  He let go of her hair, grabbed handfuls of her ass cheeks, and thrust a little harder.

  With her face smashed into the couch cushions, her words came out in muffled pants. “Come in my ass.”

  That was it. He roared like a wild fucking beast, the sound something he didn’t recognize as his own and his cock unleashed torrents of cum into her sweet ass. Sweat ran down his face, his chest, his heart pounding like a fucking jackhammer in his chest. When the sensation grew too much he pulled from her with a “pop” and slumped over her back.

  They lay there like that for long moments. No words, just heavy breathing and a slick of sweat between their bodies. When he felt as though he could stand, he pulled her up and carried her to the bathroom. They cleaned up in silence, and then he took her to bed.

  He curled around her and stroked the soft skin of her stomach. She sighed sweetly and relaxed against him, the sound and action softening the hard barrier around his heart. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so content, so sated, the anger and pain of the past receded into the background and all he wanted was to hold on to that feeling, stay right there with her forever.

  Chapter Six

  Sunlight streamed through a small split in the curtains and cut right through Bane’s eyelids. He blinked and jerked upright. It was morning? Shit. That was the longest and most restful sleep he’d had in thirteen years. He stretched and harsh reality hit him. He was alone.

  He ran to the bathroom. She wasn’t there. He checked the kitchen and living room. She wasn’t there and neither was her pack. He ran all around the outside of the cabin. No sign of her. She’d left. His gut clenched and his heart ached. He still needed her. Why had she left him?

  He threw his fists into the air and yelled at the sky. Rage at himself, his life, and her poured out of him. Of course she’d left. He’d tied her up, he’d terrified her, and he’d forced his advances on her. She’d played him yesterday. Played along with his animalistic fucking in the hopes she’d be able to get away. And he’d bought it because he’d wanted it so desperately. God, he was a fucking bastard. A fucking bastard and an idiot.

  He sank to the grass and wept. The pain and memories were back in full force and the loss of her was the icing on his shit cake. He wished he could see her one more time. He’d apologize and then he’d beg her, pay her, give her everything he had for just one more time inside her sweet salvation. He’d be gentle, caring like she deserved. If she said no, he’d tie her up and make her want him for real. Bastard.

  “Bane?”

  His head snapped up at the most beautiful sound. A voice. Her voice. He wiped the moisture from his eyes and watched in disbelief as her athletic body ran down the path toward him. The backlight from the sun formed a sort of halo around her making her look even more like the angel of salvation she was. He had to be hallucinating. She wouldn’t come back. Not for him.

  She sank to her knees beside him and slipped her pack off. An electric jolt shot through him when her delicate hand gripped his shoulder.

  “Bane? Are you okay?”

  He reached out and touched her face. “Are you real?”

  She looked at him oddly then smiled. “Um. Are you high?”

  High? She was making a joke. Teasing him. He grabbed her and crushed her to him as he burst out laughing. The relief made him giddy, stupid, dizzy. “I am now,” he choked out.

  He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but she didn’t pull away, just let him hold onto her. When he finally did pull back she smiled at him again and the sight left him awestruck.

  “You came back,” he said.

  She brightened even more. “I brought you breakfast.”

  “Breakfast?” he asked stupidly.

  “Well, I mean, I need to make it for you. If you want.”

  “Yes.” Breakfast. Such a normal idea never sounded so awesome. He jumped up, grabbed her pack, and then took her hand to help her up.

  “Careful with that,” she said as they went to the kitchen.

  She took it from him, set it on the table, unzipped it, and pulled out the t-shirt he’d given her. It was all rolled in a ball. Then she unwrapped the cargo inside. Four brown eggs.

  “Where did you get those?”

  “Well, I woke up super early and you were still out. I wasn’t sure…” She fidgeted with the eggs. “I wasn’t sure if I should stick around or leave or what. So, I went for a hike to clear my mind. I must’ve been walking for an hour when I heard a rooster. Not too long after, I came across a small house that had a chicken coup out back.” She grinned. “I couldn’t resist.”