I couldn’t believe what the hell I was seeing.

Scars spanned the center of Lexi’s back—burn scars by the looks of them. They were concentrated in a strip that was at least six inches wide. They stretched from her left kidney to just below her right shoulder blade. The skin was lighter colored and tighter than the surrounding tissue, suggesting they’d been healed for some time.

“Christ.” My fingers lightly caressed the burned areas. “Legs… How did you get these?”

I’d murder a motherfucker that second if she only gave me a name. If someone had actually done this to her, they would feel pain like they couldn’t possibly imagine.

And how had I not seen this before?

I thought back to everything she’d worn since I met her and realized with startingly clarity that she’s always managed to keep it covered. Clearly having become meticulous about the cuts of her clothing, every dress and top had always concealed this part of her back from view.

Guilt stabbed through me when she sighed wearily. I was about to tell her she didn’t have to talk about it if it was too difficult.

But then I didn’t.

I needed to know how she’d come to endure such pain. Hearing it from her somehow seemed…vital.

“It was in a fire at the orphanage in Siberia where I grew up.” She said it like a rote, as if she’d told this story one too many times. “I was seven.”

Seven?

Good God, she’d been a child.

If I thought too long about a tiny, blond-headed Lexi, surrounded by scorching flames and screaming in terror for help, I’d unravel into a psychotic, killing beast. So, I shoved those disturbing images out of my mind.

“The fire started upstairs in one of the storage rooms,” she continued. “Bad electrical wiring or something. It was down the hall from where all the kids slept, but the staff members were able to get everyone out before the flames reached the bedrooms. Everyone except me.”

Unholy fury had my blood boiling. “They left you?”

She shook her head. “No, they didn’t see me. I was hiding under my bed at the time because I’d had a nightmare. It happened a lot, and I always felt safer under my bed for some reason.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “Strange, isn’t it? Kids are always told that monsters lie beneath their beds, not comfort.”

Jesus, baby.

She was breaking my heart. Something I never thought could be broken because it had never felt whole to begin with.

“Anyway, I was under the bed when the staff members ran in and screamed for everyone to get out. I didn’t understand what was going on, but it scared me even more than the nightmare, so I stayed where I was. In the chaos and confusion, they must have assumed I was already with the group when they saw my empty bed.”

My fingers started stroking that strip of skin before I could command them to stop.

“I don’t know what snapped me out of it, but I eventually figured out that the building was on fire. I ran out of the bedroom and made it to the stairwell before the fire blocked it from me. But just as I reached the first level, part of the ceiling collapsed on me.”

It felt like there were flames in my fucking throat.

I couldn’t talk, couldn’t swallow, could barely breathe.

She reached back and ran her index finger along the path of scars. “I was trapped under a wooden support beam for a while until a fireman eventually came in and found me. I tried to move it so many times, but it was too heavy. So, I had to just lie there screaming while it burned me. I think I passed out at some point, because I don’t remember much before the fireman was lifting me into his arms.”

The pain she suffered. The agony. God, I couldn’t imagine.

And at seven years old.

She must have been terrified beyond all belief. On top of it all, she hadn’t even had parents to comfort her afterward. No one to hold her, kiss her, help her heal. No one to tell her everything was going to be okay. To love her.

“Is that why you like swimming so much?” I rasped. “Because water represents the opposite of fire?”

She stilled. “I’ve…never thought about it before. Maybe? I’ve never been able to explain it, but I’ve always felt safe in the water.”

“That makes sense.”

When she cleared her throat, I wondered if she was choking back tears. “Anyway, the hospital did what they could for me, but they were grossly underfunded, same with the orphanage. Medical care at that time was abysmal. After they released me, I decided I didn’t want to go back to the orphanage. I figured if something like that was going to happen to me there, I might as well take my chances on my own.”

My muscles locked up. “On your own? But you were seven.”

She nodded. “I found some people who helped homeless kids like me survive Siberian winters on their own. They helped me find food and taught me how to keep myself warm.”

My hands grabbed her upper arms. She sucked in a breath. I was probably holding her too roughly, but I couldn’t have let go if my life depended on it.

“You lived on the streets of Siberia when you were seven years old?”

“Only for about six months or so,” she said shakily. “Then Sergei found me. His driver almost ran me over actually. When he realized I had no one, he took me home with him. Because he didn’t have anyone either. Ever since his wife Claudia died years before, he’d been depressed and lonely. I guess we were both looking for a family, and we found it in each other.”

The man hadn’t just lost his wife—he’d lost a baby, too. I couldn’t begin to imagine the holes that kind of loss leaves in a person. And Lexi had literally never had anyone.

“He saved me,” she stated emphatically. “The most powerful and dangerous man in the Russian mafia saved me. That’s why I’ll do anything for him.”

Which explained why she’d gone along with the marriage. Everything else I’d learned about her clicked into place after hearing her story. The medical bills Sergei paid for in Moscow after adopting her. The malnutrition, the dehydration, the protein deficiency.

And no fucking wonder if she’d been living on the streets for half a year!

It was a complete mystery how she’d even survived in those harsh conditions. The climate alone, not to mention the crime-ridden streets. She’d miraculously survived a fire, and then somehow scraped by on her own until being rescued.

So many times she could have died.

“I was able to work around the scars during my modeling days,” she went on, her voice pitching lower. “The photographers and my agency always managed to hide them in every shot. But they eventually said I needed to do something about covering them up. Skin grafts with plastic surgery and all that.”

The thought enraged me.

If that had been her choice, I wouldn’t care. But being forced to cover up the evidence of her survival, like something to be ashamed of? That was unacceptable. Those scars were a mark of her bravery and will to live. She should wear them proudly, like a badge of courage.

“I’d had enough at that point,” she continued, cutting into my thoughts. “I wasn’t about to go through major surgery to fix something that didn’t bother me, just to propagate some unattainable image of perfection. I didn’t want to be a part of spreading that message to women. Didn’t feel right.” She shrugged. “So, I quit modeling. Terminated my contract and walked away. It was so much easier than I’d thought it would be.”

Another piece added to the puzzle. This woman was far more worldly, far tougher, and far wiser than I’d initially given her credit for.

This woman was a survivor.

I was in awe of her spirit, especially after everything that had happened to her. She needed to know that I could see how strong she’d remained. That I saw her resilience and felt her own fire still burning bright, no matter how many times life had tried to snuff it out. I felt her anguish, but I relished in her courage.

And she needed to fucking know how much it meant that she’d shared her sorrow with me. That she’d trusted me enough to expose her grief.

Without any thought to the consequences, I cupped her cheek and turned her face to mine. My mouth came down on hers in a fusion of unrestraint and blinding passion.

My mind didn’t even catalog it as a sexual act at first. It was simply essential, something I had to do. Connecting our bodies in that moment was as necessary as breathing.

Necessary for life to even continue.

She froze in shock at the initial contact, though it didn’t take long for her mouth to begin moving beneath mine. For her sigh to melt into a yearning moan. For her arms to wrap around my neck and pull me closer. My own circled her front to hold her flush against me, unwilling to let any space slip between our bodies.

Normally, I never cared to kiss the women I bedded. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it—I could just take it or leave it. Kissing a woman’s mouth wasn’t something I put great emphasis on. Now, kissing other parts of her…that was a different story.

But in all my years of experience, it had never felt like this.

What a cliché.

Maybe, but it was also the truth.

This time, the act didn’t feel like an obligatory pit stop on the way to ultimate release. This time, it felt like the beginning of something life-altering. Like if I didn’t consume her inside and out, starting with that kiss, I would croak right there in my own pool. After being such an epic dick to her, I was goddamn lucky she was even allowing it. It was a privilege to be kissing her.

Especially when her lips parted and my seeking tongue thrust inside her welcoming mouth.

Then it turned very sexual.

My tongue flicked against hers, eliciting a whimper from her velvety lips and wrenching a hungry growl from mine. She was soft and pliant all over. We ate at each other’s mouths as though we had been deprived of sustenance for years. I suppose, in a way, I had been. I was certainly no stranger to the one-night-stand, but true sexual fulfillment was almost a foreign concept to me.

Sex was never emotional for me.

It was something to keep me balanced. Focused. Something I enjoyed, of course. And I enjoyed women. But it had become nothing more than a task I checked off my to-do list. I needed to keep my head on straight for work, and sex filled that role.

And I knew I was up shit creek when one kiss from Lexi had me feeling like I’d do anything to have this for the rest of my life. To bottle up this euphoria like my favorite whiskey, put it on the shelf, and drink from it whenever I damn well pleased.

It started the moment I’d set foot inside my house tonight and immediately sought her out. After the events of the day, I’d needed to see her with my own eyes and make sure nothing evil had touched her. I’d needed to hold her in my arms—I’d actually told her as much—just to assure myself that she was safe and whole. I’d needed to return the favor from the week before. The prospect of finally getting my mouth on her pussy had driven me through the house and straight into the pool like a man possessed.

Frankly, I couldn’t decide which set of her lips tasted better.

The surge of possession, the staggering compulsion to lay claim to every part of her—to own her completely—was rising up like an indestructible force inside me. A siege of primal desires. A battleground of greedy demands. Everything about the way in which I needed to mark this woman was the very definition of carnal.

I was the shade to her sunshine. And yet…

I was selfish enough to want to hold the monopoly on all things Lexi.

With our mouths still sealed together, I ripped her top down below her tits, freeing them to the chilly October air. And I wasn’t nice about getting my hands on them. My grip was demanding and propriety when my palms covered them. Her nipples had instantly hardened, as I knew they would. I actually felt the stirrings of annoyance that it had taken me this long to see and hold them. I should have stripped her naked the second I had her legs spread on the edge of the pool.

I tore my mouth away. “Tell me you want this.”

Her breath left her in a sarcastic puff. “Isn’t it obvious?”

I felt my mouth spread into a wolfish grin. When I pinched her tiny rosebuds, she arched into my hands, seeking more. “Make my cock harder and say the words anyway.”

Turning her head, she said against my neck, “I want this, Nico.”

My eyes rolled back in my head at the sound of my name coming out all breathy through her swollen, thoroughly-kissed lips. “And did you like the way I ate out your pretty little cunt?”

I felt a shiver travel down her spine. “You can still taste how much I came for you, can you not? What do you think?”

I took a nip of her earlobe. “Your goddamn right I can. Tell me you’ve never come like that before. Tell me no one’s ever driven you so mad that you saw stars.”

A lusty moan escaped her. “Never. I’ve never needed it like that before.”

Me. Fucking. Too.

That night in the cellar, I would have lost ten years of my life if she had stopped before I’d emptied myself down her talented throat.

“Do you want me, Lexi?” I whispered. “Beyond right now. Beyond a buzz and a blowjob by the fire. Do you want me?”

I shuddered when she wiggled her ass against my throbbing dick. If it didn’t get wrapped up in her slickness in the next thirty seconds, the ache would catapult well past unbearable and into the catatonic stage.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I want you so much.”

I didn’t realize the feral growl I heard came from me until I had her shoved up against the edge of the pool, my arms caging her in. I used the leverage to grind my pulsing erection against her pert backside. And here I thought I couldn’t be driven any lower toward succumbing to my primordial needs. But hearing that this goddess of a woman wanted me back? That she shared this insatiable, indefinable need?

Just go ahead and call me a fucking caveman.

Because I was about to drag her back to my cave and stake my claim. Already images of us rutting together on all fours like animals assaulted my mind until I thought I’d be stricken blind. Fantasies that vivid were toxic to the mind. I’d be able to think of little else until I’d taken her exactly like that.

“I’m gonna fuck you, Lexi,” I said gruffly. “Right here, right now. You ready to feel it?”

She panted like I was already pumping inside her. “I’ve been ready.”

“Goddamn.” Plunging my hand into the water, I went for the button on my slacks with jerky movements. “Yeah, give me more of that. I want to hear more.”

Her hips undulated, clearly anxious for me to take this vicious edge off. “I wanted you even when I hated you. I think I actually would have been okay with hate-sex if I’d known how good it would be. Like the night at the club. I was ready for you to fuck me on that dance floor.”

Have to get inside.

“I wanted to.” I freed my shaft from its soaked confines. “I had every intention of bending you over in front of that asshole you danced with. To teach both of you a lesson.”

Her head fell forward, her hair curtaining her face. “And what lesson would that be?”

Pulling her back up, I wrapped my hand around her throat. Not tightly, just meaningfully. “That you’re mine.”

Holding her in that spot, I shoved her bottoms out of the way and guided my engorged head to her entrance. Just as I was about to thrust inside her waiting channel and end the torture, my security system near the patio door alerted me that someone had entered the house through the front door.

We both froze.

The sounds from the system echoed through the otherwise still night. The water around us ceased its sloshing, our breaths slowly evening out as we both took stock.

“Someone’s here?” she whispered, sounding a little uneasy. “They didn’t break in, right?”

That slight tremble in her voice was the only reason why I didn’t push my luck and fuck her before whoever was here could make it back to the pool.

I roared my frustration as I jerked away and carefully zipped up my painful hard-on. Whatever higher force was at work here, it had taken my punishment for all my past misdeeds a little too far this time.

“No,” I bit out, annoyed beyond hell that anyone had dared interrupt one of the most intense moments of my life. “Whoever came in used their key. And only my family members have keys.”

Springing into action, she quickly pulled her top back up, concealing my favorite little toys. I could have almost found humor in the situation, watching her fumble with her meager clothing, straightening her mussed-up hair. It was like we were a couple of curfew-breaking high schoolers who were about to be caught by her parents. Not that it would have been a first for me. I’d angered many a father over the years.

Funny enough, in this case, it was the father who’d thrown his girl at me.

Lexi looked up at me with a heartbreakingly beautiful expression of vulnerability and coyness. Enigma. With a heavy exhale, I laid a soft kiss on her lips and pulled away before I wasn’t capable of doing so.

“Stay out here and relax some more,” I told her gently. “Enjoy the jacuzzi. I’ll be a few minutes. Gotta go kill someone and dispose of their body.”

I climbed out of the pool, clothing dripping wet and sticking to me. The suit was beyond salvageable, and it was so fucking worth it. Until our happy ending was thwarted by someone with a lot of nerve and a death wish.

“Try not to open any more of your stitches, will you?” she called out.

I looked over my shoulder and winked at her. “If I do, I’ll let you play nursemaid and patch me back up. If you’re lucky, I’ll even let you kiss it better.”

She smiled.

I put that smile on her face. Me.

“Deal, pretty boy.”

Walking with the worst case of blue balls in history was a piece of fucking cake compared to having to turn away from that smile.

Which settled it. I was taking everyone’s keys back.

If they wanted to drop by unannounced, they were going to have to wait outside until I was done fucking my wife and good and goddamn ready to let them in.

I quickly changed in the guest house where I kept extra clothes. Entering the house, I found Cris standing in my kitchen, pouring two glasses of Henry McKenna bourbon whiskey from a bottle I’d left open on the counter.

I stood on the opposite side of the bar, arms crossed, and just waited. We knew each other well enough to know how the other operated.

Sometimes you needed a drink before you walked into fire.

He tipped his head back and swallowed down his two fingers. Swinging his somber gaze over to me, he said in a grave voice, “We need to fucking talk.”