“Did you enjoy it?” she whispered, praying he would divulge.

He shifted uncomfortably and a look of embarrassment entered his glittering eyes. “I enjoy all things sexual in nature,” he fidgeted with the collar of his shirt.

For the first time in months, a genuine smile creased her lips at his unease. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Rolling onto his side and facing her, he tucked his arm under his head and gave her a self-satisfied look. “Yes, I enjoyed it, but it had nothing to do with his gender and everything to do with the fact that he played my game unknowingly and let me dominate and fuck him.”

She cringed at his crudeness and rolled her eyes at his denial. “It’s ironic and hypocritical how you can’t admit your bisexuality and attraction for him considering what you put him through for denying the same.”

His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered. “You think you have me figured out, don’t you? You don’t have a fucking clue how my thought process works. I never denied that I found him attractive, but that doesn’t make me bisexual; that makes me experimental. It’s not like I make a habit of being with men, Little Ms. Know-It-All,” his good humor disappeared in a flash.

She huffed, unable to resist the sarcasm that coated her statement, “If you say so.”

“What about you?” he stared down at her accusingly.

“What about me?” she pressed against his chest to put distance between them, seeing his temper flaring in his dilated irises.

“Have you ever been with a woman?”

Now it was her turn to feel the heat of embarrassment on her cheeks. “I thought you knew everything about me,” she tried to tear away from him, but his large hands stopped her and hugged her close.

“Not everything,” his mouth set in a frown.

Pinned by his strong arms, she responded, “Once when I was drunk…” she stopped midsentence, not wanting to confess her little lesbian transgression, but in a moment of weakness and irritation, gave in. “…a woman hit on me and I made out with her.”

“And?” his left brow lifted knowingly.

God, she hated that condescending look on his face and that he could read her so easily. Again she tried to move away, but his damned grasp was too tight.

“A-N-D?” he drew the word out slowly, pressing her to answer.

“And I let her eat me out,” she finally admitted just as she escaped his iron grip.

“Did you reciprocate?” he continued to badger her, clearly amused with her admission and anxiety.

“No.”

“That was selfish of you,” he poked her in the ribs as she sat on the edge of the bed, avoiding eye contact with him. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I was drunk,” she shot back, feeling guilty at his accusation of being selfish.

“You didn’t answer the question,” he mocked.

Glaring at him over her shoulder, she scowled at him and whispered, “Yes.”

“Does that make you bisexual?”

She wanted to come back with some clever jibe to prove her point, but the only point being made was by Victor.

“Does that asshole you’re going to marry know about this?” his question and acidic tone grated on her nerves.

“No, I never told him. I never…” she stammered. “I never told anyone.”

His eyes brightened, but his look of agitation remained. “You sure do keep a lot of secrets from your fiancé.” She stood, quickly becoming frustrated with where the conversation was going. Reaching out for her, he snatched her wrist, halting her. “Why is that?”

“Because he doesn’t need to know everything about me,” she blurted and tugged on her arm to get away from him.

“What other secrets are you keeping from the man you plan on spending the rest of your life with?” his voice boomed thunderously as he stood next to her, his eyes stabbing into her and his hulking body shadowing hers.

Seeing Mr. Black’s quick anger bubble up, she swooped in for the kill to try and shut him up. “I never told him about you,” she spat out, knowing he hated that their relationship was on the down low. The irony in that didn’t slip past her either since he was the one who kept her and all his other chapters hidden away in his homes like dirty little secrets.

“Maybe you should,” he tore right back into her. “Or maybe I should tell him for you.”

Pulling her wrist out of his hand, she backed away. “I’m not afraid of you, so don’t threaten me, Mr. Black,” she stressed his name as she turned to walk away before he saw the panic in her eyes.

In the blink of an eye, his hand was on her upper arm, yanking her back to him while his other hand clamped onto the nape of her neck, forcing her to meet his incensed stare.

“Well you should be…” he muttered, a muscle quivering in his jaw. “Or maybe I should give you a reason to be afraid of me,” he snarled.

Pounding her fists on his chest, she shouted in his face, “You’ve already given me plenty of reasons or have you forgotten? You want to tell Nate about us, then stop talking about it and fucking do it already!”

He roughly spun her around and forced her to the mattress and onto her back while pinning her down. “Fuck talking, I’ll just send you back to him with my come inside of you,” he worked his way between her legs and pulled his cock out of his pants. Mortified with what was transpiring, Elsa thrashed and kneed him in the groin, making him grunt loudly and roll onto his side. Shaken with Mr. Black’s sudden aggression, she darted toward the door, only to trip over her bag lying on the floor. She had lied when she said she wasn’t afraid of him; she was; and now she feared that he would take her without her permission. As she tried to rise to her feet, she was betrayed by her body yet again when she began shaking uncontrollably and her knees gave out. Hiding her face in her hands, the tears that she had been fighting for so long came in a floodtide.

“I hate what you’ve done to me…” she cried into her hands. “…what you’ve made me into… weak and pathetic.”

She waited for Mr. Black’s assault, but it never came. A soft thud behind her made her look over her shoulder where she saw Victor on his knees behind her, watching her with glassy eyes.

“You’re not weak,” he croaked out. “You’re not weak,” he repeated, his voice barely a husky whisper. Reaching out to her, he gingerly pulled her into his arms, a tired look of regret washing over his features. She tried to fight him, but only half-heartedly. Mr. Black was gone and she allowed Victor to hold her against his warm body. Staring down at her, his chest heaved and his heart beat could be felt through his ribcage.

“I’ll give myself to you, Victor, willingly, anytime you want,” she stared up at him, pleading for kindness with her eyes. “…but please don’t let Mr. Black take me without my permission. I don’t want that kind of memory of you…” more tears cascaded down her cheeks.

Leaning down, he placed a delicate kiss on her forehead. “It won’t happen again.” A finger traced the line of her tears that were still streaming down her cheeks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you cry… how many times I’ve dreamt of these tears…” he gulped noisily. “I only wish they hadn’t come the way they did.”

When she felt the rigidness of his dick press into her side, she reminded herself that he enjoyed seeing her like this. Fake pity. That’s all this was. Freeing herself from his arms, she sat on her knees and faced him as she dabbed her eyes. “I want information. I did what you wanted and now it’s your turn.”

The gentle look on his face turned fierce in the blink of an eye, but then suspiciously mellowed and cooled. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

Elsa seized the opportunity before he could back out. “How did you get that scar?”

Standing, he helped her to her feet. As she impatiently awaited his answer, he strolled to the bed and seated himself.

“It was a work incident,” he started casually with no inflection in his voice. “It was back in my second year as an agent and...”