Won’t hurt her. If we scare her, we’ll never have this again.

A crackling pause. Ease her, Destruction commanded next.

She breathed in and out, her walls remaining locked tight around his fingers, refusing to give. He bent and once again flicked his tongue against her tiny bundle of nerves. Another gasp left her, this one more about pleasure than pain.

“Better?”

“Yes, yes, so much better,” she purred.

He sucked, hard.

“Yes! I’m close...so close...”

He sucked harder, bringing her to a swift and brutal climax. One he didn’t allow her to enjoy for long. As she screamed, he withdrew his fingers—the scream became a whimper.

“Baden,” she panted, so wonderfully wet she would soak him. “Please.”

“You miss me already?” He craved the words almost as much as he craved her little body.

“Yes! I’m empty without you.”

“Then you’ll have me.” His nerve endings were on fire for her. “All of me.”

She pointed a trembling finger to the nightstand. “Condom. I was on the pill...not anymore...condom,” she repeated when he remained unmoving.

He wasn’t sure he could give her children, and the thought suddenly...angered him.

One day, she would want children. A family.

Aleksander could provide both.

Baden’s anger prepared to detonate.

“Warrior.” Katarina lifted her hips, a silent plea for his fiercest possession. “What are you waiting for? Get the condom and fill me.”

Not asking now, but demanding. He liked this better.

He yanked open the only drawer in the nightstand, the contents spilling out. Contain your strength. Never had the outcome of a bedding been so important. Bending down, he swiped up a foil packet, ripped it open with his teeth and sheathed his entire length with latex, Katarina watching his every move with abject hunger. That’s my girl.

He leaned over her and positioned himself for entry. He didn’t thrust home, not yet, but flattened his palms at her temples. Their gazes held for several agonizing heartbeats.

“There’s no going back after this,” he told her. It was a warning. One she had best heed.

Take! Destruction demanded. No going back, anyway.

Again, they were in agreement.

“Good.” She licked her lips, a sexy little kitty he couldn’t resist. “I don’t want to go back.”

He wasn’t sure she’d understood his meaning, and as sweat trickled along his back and chest he wasn’t sure he had the control to explain it to her. No, he knew he didn’t have the control.

He managed to grit, “You are mine, Rina.”

“And you are mine,” she whispered.

He could wait no longer. He surged inside her with a single, forceful stroke.

Crying out, she arched up to meet his thrust, sending him even deeper. Her inner walls clutched him tighter than any fist, slicker than any mouth, and for a moment, incomparable bliss fogged his mind. Pleasure was pain and pain was pleasure, the two so intertwined he wasn’t sure where one began and the other ended, only knew he loved every second.

“Pleasant?” he asked.

“Yes! Move in me,” she pleaded. Her nails sliced at his back. She bit into his shoulder. “Move fast.”

Her passion stripped him of any lingering desire to proceed slowly, to savor every second; he pulled back only to surge forward. Again she met his thrust with an arch. Her legs, which were still wrapped around him, squeezed his waist. She surrounded him, possessed him. Savaged him.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he told her, hands already combing into her hair to fist the strands and hold her steady for his position. “If I hurt you...scream.”

“Drahý, I’m going to scream no matter what you do. Give me everything you’ve got.”

* * *

He. Was. An. Animal.

Katarina reveled in his every punishing thrust. The headboard bang, bang, banged into the wall, and pictures crashed to the floor. Springs squeaked in the mattress, the struts of the bed scraping against the wood floor.

With every in-and-out glide of his shaft, her nipples scraped against his chest; the friction threw kindling on the fire already spreading through her veins. He awoke sensations in her that she’d never dreamed possible, her nerve endings sizzling, her cells buzzing.

She’d never been so wet, never ached so thoroughly.

He was so big he stretched her and so strong he was probably bruising her, but she loved every second.

He’d once told her women wanted only two things from men: money and power. With him, she wanted affection and sex. Lots and lots of sex. But really, sex and power were synonymous right now, the maddened frenzy of his every stroke flooding her with a feminine prowess she’d never before known.