“Why me?” he asked softly, his beautiful eyes dark and stormy. “You know I’m fucked up, Eva. You saw what I…that night you woke me…You saw, damn it.

How can you trust me with your body this way?”

“I trust my heart and what it tel s me.” I smoothed the frown line between his brows. “You can give my body back to me, Gideon. I believe you’re the only one who can.”

His eyes closed and his damp forehead touched mine. “Do you have a safeword, Eva?”

Startled, I pul ed back again to study his face. A few members of my therapy group had talked about Dom/sub relationships. Some required total control to feel safe during sex. Others fel on the opposite side of the line, finding that bondage and humiliation satisfied their deep-seated need to feel pain to experience pleasure. For those who practiced that lifestyle, a safeword was an unambiguous way to say “stop.” But I couldn’t see how that had any relevance to me and Gideon. “Do you?”

“I don’t need one.” Between my legs, the gentle stroke of his finger became less tentative. He repeated his question, “Do you have a safeword?”

“No. I’ve never needed one. Missionary, doggy style, B.O.B…. that’s about the extent of my mad skil s in the sack.”

That brought a touch of amusement to his otherwise severe face. “Thank God. I wouldn’t survive you otherwise.”

And stil that fingertip massaged me, spurring a dark yearning. Gideon could do that to me, make me forget everything that happened before. I had no negative sexual triggers with him, no hesitation or fears. He’d given that to me. In return, I wanted to give him the body he’d freed from my past.

The long case clock near the door began to chime the hour.

“Gideon, we’ve been gone a long time. Someone wil come looking for us.”

He put the slightest pressure against my sensitive rosette, barely pressing. “Do you real y care if they do?”

My hips arched into the touch. Anticipation was making me hot al over again. “I don’t care about anything but you when you’re touching me.” His free hand lifted to my hair and held it at the roots, keeping my head stil . “Did you ever enjoy anal play? Accidental y or by deliberation?”

“No.”

“And yet you trust me enough to ask me for this.” He kissed my forehead as he drew the slickness of his semen back to my rear.

I gripped his waistband. “You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” His voice had that wickedly assertive bite to it. “If you crave something, I’l be the one to give it to you. Al of your needs, Eva, are mine to fulfil .

Whatever it costs me.”

“Thank you, Gideon.” My hips shifted restlessly as he continued to lubricate me gently. “I want to be what you need, too.”

“I’ve told you what I need, Eva—control.” He brushed his parted lips back and forth over mine. “You’re asking me to lead you back into painful places and I wil , if that’s what you need. But we have to be extremely careful.”

“I know.”

“Trust is hard for both of us. If we break it, we could lose everything. Think of a word you associate with power. Your safeword, angel. Choose it.” The pressure of that single fingertip became more insistent. I moaned, “Crossfire.”

“Umm…I like it. Very fitting.” His tongue dipped into my mouth, barely touching mine before retreating. His finger rimmed my anus over and over, pushing his semen into the puckered hole, a soft growl escaping him as it flexed in a silent plea for more.

The next time he pressed against the ring, I pushed out and he slipped his fingertip inside me. The feeling of penetration was shockingly intense.

Just as before, surrender weighted my body, leaving me languid.

“Are you okay?” Gideon asked harshly as I sagged against him. “Should I stop?”

“No…Don’t stop.”

He pushed fractional y deeper and I clenched around him, a helpless reaction to the feel of something gliding across tender tissues. “You’re snug and scorching hot,” he murmured. “And so soft. Does it hurt?”

“No. Please. More.”

Gideon withdrew to his fingertip; then slid in to the knuckle, slow and easy. I quivered in delight, astonished by how good it felt, that teasing bit of ful ness in my rear.

“How’s that?” he asked hoarsely.

“Good. Everything you do to me feels good.” He withdrew again, glided deep again. Leaning forward, I thrust my hips back to give him easier access and pressed my breasts against his chest. His fist in my hair tightened, pul ing my head back so he could take my mouth in a lush, wet kiss. Our open mouths slid across each other, growing more frantic as my arousal built. The feel of Gideon’s finger in that darkly sexual place, thrusting in that gentle rhythm, had me rocking backward to meet his inward drives.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice infinitely gentle. “I love making you feel good. Love watching an orgasm move through your body.”

“Gideon.” I was lost, drowning in the powerful joy of being held by him, loved by him. Four days alone had taught me how miserable I’d be if we couldn’t work things out, how dul and colorless my world would be without him in it. “I need you.”

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