I kiss her again and she opens her mouth this time, our tongues twist together, reaching for each other in a way only tongues can. It’s slow, and sensual, and erotic.

Perfect.

My tip bumps up against her opening and she almost bites my lip with surprise. “Shhh,” I say again. “We’re gonna go slow this time.”

I ease into her, just a little bit. She gasps with pain, so I hold still for a moment, letting her get used to my size. When she relaxes I push in a little farther, and this time she accepts it. She opens her legs wider. Her hands stop clawing my shoulders and drag down my biceps. I’m the one who moans now.

This girl, man. She can make me moan with a touch. I push inside her farther and she presses against me, urging me to begin.

But I don’t. This is the slow fuck. This is the sweet fuck. So I don’t pound her hard. I love her deep. I kiss her mouth and slip one hand under her ass, cupping her cheek in my palm. The other hand plays with her hair.

Our hips move in unison. Slowly and with one purpose in mind. To feel each other. She comes first, a slow wave of contractions that clench against my cock, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to come inside her as she does.

When she stills, I push deeper, making her arch her back. I reach up and palm her throat, gently so it doesn’t scare her. I don’t want her thinking of anything but me. And when her eyes finally open and meet mine, I pull out and explode on her stomach.

We lie there in each other’s arms for a long time, until the smell of the roasting meat from down below wafts into my mind and wakes me out of my half-sleep. I empty a pillow out of a case and wipe down her stomach, wondering if I can get her in the shower later. And then I toss it aside.

“I don’t know what to say,” she says, when I finish. “Maybe, thank you.”

I pull her up off the bed and she watches me dress. I lean over and grab her shirt, then tug it over her head. She sighs as her body is once again covered. But I don’t think it’s with relief. I think it’s with regret. Not for letting me fuck her like that. But because we have to stop.

I smile as I hold open her jeans and she grabs my shoulder for support as she steps into them. And then I button her pants up and take her hand.

“Let’s not say anything right now. Let’s just eat.”

“Never forget that you are vulnerable—even when you feel invincible.”

– Sydney

We walk downstairs hand in hand. I have no idea what’s happening, but I don’t care at the moment. What he just did… what he just made me feel… I had no idea sex could be like that. I have never felt the tender touch he used on me tonight. I have only had it angry and hard. No soft words telling me I’m pretty. No slow movement, no thoughts about me at all. Garrett took me. That’s about how I’d describe what we did in the dark. He never asked. He never even made me come. Never even asked me if I did.

But Case… how can this man be so soft with me?

It’s confusing. And all kinds of doubts creep in.

He’s using you, Syd.

I’m not even sure whose voice that is. Is it me? Is it Garrett? Is it the imaginary man in my head? I’d go with option three if it weren’t for one thing. That man was always Case.

And I’m not crazy. They think I am, but I’m not. I’ve just been in the dark too long. Lied to too much. Betrayed over and over again.

Even Brett. I don’t know what that relationship was. Business? I’m not sure. He was always interested in the bar. But he was… friendly. Not like Case. Brett never offered me a soft fuck. I said I was a virgin and he assumed I wanted to wait until our wedding night. I’ve been dating him for over a year and not once did he ever push me.

How does a man control himself for that long? If he wanted me, wouldn’t those urges get to him? Wouldn’t he at least start a conversation?

He did other things—with his fingers. He did make me come. Not always. And I made him come. I gave him oral sex.

I’m so confused.

When we get to the kitchen I take a seat at the bar and even that feels weird. I always served Garrett. Even Brett liked me to wait on him.

But Case, he doesn’t seem to mind cooking for me. Or cleaning up.

That’s because he’s using you, Syd. He wants the answers he knows you have.

I do have some. I’ve lied about a few things since he took me. But I was his captive. Why should I be expected to tell him the truth?

“What are you thinking about?” Case asks as he puts a plate of meat and vegetables in front of me.

I let out a long breath and decide to be honest as he sits down in the stool next to me. “I need to know what you want.” I look down at my bowl of food, my hair falling forward.

And he does that thing again where he pulls my hair aside to see my face. I look up a little, just enough to catch a grin when he pulls away. “I want you to eat. And then I’d like to take you to the shower and wash you up. And put you to sleep in my bed wearing my clothes.” He shrugs when I scrunch up my face. “I don’t have any more clothes for you. So…”

I clear my throat to give me the courage to continue. “But what will you want tomorrow?”

“I left today, you might’ve noticed.” I nod. “And I have something to show you tomorrow. Hopefully, anyway. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“What is it?” I can’t help my curiosity.

“A surprise.” And then he starts eating.

And I do too. I let it all drop away for now. I’m OK. I’m not drugged. I’m not in any danger, I don’t think. He’s being nice. He’s handsome in so many ways. I mean, I’ve dreamed about this man since he left me out there in the wild. I’ve felt every emotion for him over the course of time.

I’ve cursed him for leaving. I’ve begged him silently to come back. I’ve loved him, hated him, wanted him, and forgiven him so many, many times over. I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime with this man. And yet I had no idea he could be so…

“Sydney?”

I look at him.

“You done?”

I look down at my plate and see that it’s empty.

“You want more?”

I nod and he makes to get up. But I catch his arm, making him stop. “Not food, Case. I want more… of…”

“Me?” he asks, grinning like a man who knows he’s desirable.

“Yeah,” I manage to squeak out. “More of that.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I’m afraid,” I whisper. “It’s not real. I don’t think it’s real. How can life be so… easy?”

He leans over and cups my face in one hand. His lips touch mine. “You know what makes it easy, Syd?” He waits for me to shake out a no. “Doing the right thing for yourself makes it easy. When you’re fighting with yourself, that’s when things get hard. When you have to talk yourself into being someone else to survive, that’s hard. But when you can let all that go and just relax, just act honestly—that’s how you make life easy.”

“How do you know that? How did you get so smart?”

“I’m a genius. And I’m ten years older than you. I’ve seen more. Lived more. Done more. You pick this shit up by experiencing it.”

“But you’re a…”

“Killer.”

He says it so easily. Like it’s his true self and he owns it. And that’s part of my problem. He’s dangerous in so many ways. He wanted to kill me last week. He tied me up, drugged me, hit me. “Does it bother you? Being a killer?”

“No. It’s just what I do.”

I lean forward and put my head in my hands. The bandaged one is warm, but the other one is cool and it feels good on my face.

“But you know what else I do?”

I shake my head no, not sure I want to hear it.

“I’m a decent kisser.” I huff out a breath and make my hair fly up in my face. “I can love you soft or hard. I can give you advice. I can be a good friend. Hell, I can even be a good father. I’m not Sasha’s father, but it’s good practice.”