Good? It’s better than good. It’s fucking unbelievable. I drop the nipple from my mouth and give her a light slap on the breast. The hallway is dark, but already I see her skin reddening from my touch. From my mark.

My mark. Only mine. Never will another man touch what’s mine.

I slap her again, harder this time. “Mine,” I growl.

“Yours,” she echoes softly.

I push her pajama pants over her hips and inhale once more now that no clothing covers her fragrance. Fuck, her sweet musk. Apples and spice and tangy female. The smell of the fire still drifts around me, and damn it if it doesn’t make her smell that much better. I’m here to conquer her. I couldn’t conquer the fire and save my Syrah, but fuck it all. I’m going to conquer Ashley.

Right here in my hallway.

She steps out of her pajama pants. Completely naked now, except for the tatters of her tank that still hang around her shoulders. She shimmies out of her tank tatters and stands before me, her breasts and nipples red from my rough handling.

Fuck. She hasn’t even begun to see rough. To experience rough.

I’m going to do things to her I’ve only imagined doing. Things I’ve wanted to try but never had the occasion to.

Things that are inside me, part of me. And now they’ll be part of her.

I love her.

I love her so damned much.

Even more, now that she stands here, offering herself to me. Offering to be the receptacle of my deepest and darkest desires.

I crush my mouth to hers.

She parts her lips instantly, and I devour her, sweeping my tongue into every tiny crevice of her mouth, sliding over her teeth, her gums, the inside of her cheeks. She tastes like sweet cream, almost as delicious as her pussy.

I’ll kiss her pussy like this, devour every last millimeter my tongue can reach.

But for now, I plunder her mouth, as if I’m a pirate and she’s my treasure.

I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her, until she pushes at my shoulders, breaking the kiss.

Her blue eyes are on fire as she gasps in a breath of air. “Dale…”

I take her in—her beautiful milky body, her rosy breasts and ruddy nipples, her small waist and firm hips. Her shaved pussy and her lean legs.

Everything about her is perfect.

Then I inhale. Her arousal. Her zest. And that note that’s uniquely her. A soft floral fragrance. Just Ashley.

I listen.

I listen to her rapid breaths, her soft sighs and moans.

I taste.

Her delicious flavor is still on my tongue, on my lips. Ashley. My Ashley.

I can’t wait any longer. I’m still in my soiled flannel shirt, old faded jeans, and hiking boots.

But I’m done waiting.

I unbuckle my belt, unzip my jeans, and free my throbbing cock.

I lift Ashley against the wall until she’s at the right height, and I thrust into her hard.

“Fuck,” I growl.

She grips me so tightly, gloves me so completely, and for a moment, everything’s okay again. I’m inside my woman, and I’m complete.

But everything isn’t okay. Far from it.

I’ll take this moment, though. This precious moment as Ashley gives herself to me.

I pull out slightly and thrust back in.

I’m ready to come already, so I do. I let go. It won’t sate me. Won’t be enough. Never enough, and especially not tonight.

I thrust into her, touch her innermost parts, and release.

I release everything…except not everything. I’m not even close to done, and though the climax sends me reeling, my mind is far from free from the thoughts that taint it.

The losses I’ve suffered, and not just today.

I pull out and let her slide down so her feet touch the floor.

I’ve used her. Really used her.

And I’ve only just begun.

Chapter Ten

Ashley

Dale grabs my hand and leads me back to his bedroom.

I haven’t climaxed, but I nearly did, even though he wasn’t inside me for long. His rough treatment of my breasts surprised me, but I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

I want more. I want to be ravaged by this virile mountain man—this rugged, feral animal.

He closes the bedroom door and meets my gaze, his green eyes on fire. The red-wine growl rumbles from his chest.

He’s a wolf, and I’m his prey.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Get on the bed.”

The dark Syrah floats in the air around him as he rasps his commands.

I walk to the bed and sit down.

“On your hands and knees,” he says. “Ass in the air. I want to see that pretty behind of yours.”

I obey. I don’t even consider not obeying. Dale wants to see my ass. I show him my ass.

“Now lower your arms, let your tits touch the bed. I want that ass higher than the rest of you.”

I comply.

And—

“Oh!” as he swats my backside with the palm of his hand.

“Such a gorgeous ass, Ashley,” he rasps. “I’m going to make it pink like your rosy cheeks.”

Slap!

His palm comes down on me again.

Slap!

Again, the other cheek this time.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

The sting is painful but not unbearably so. But with the sting comes a warmth. A warmth unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It spreads from my ass through the rest of me as if the blood in my veins has turned to hot lava.

Except the lava isn’t orange or red. It’s green, the color of Dale’s eyes—the eyes that, even though I can’t see them at the moment, I know are burning two holes in my flesh.

Two holes of green fire.

“My God, your ass is perfect,” Dale says, the dark red of his voice veiling me. “I want to make it red, Ashley. Red and glowing.”

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

Oh, the pain! But oh, the pleasure! It spears through me like a flaming arrow, the sting such a sweet prelude to the warmth and pleasure that morphs from it.

Slap!

Slap!

I brace myself, waiting for the next, when—

The warmth of Dale’s lips trails over the cheeks of my ass. He’s kissing me. Soothing the pain. Taking care of me.

I sigh in contentment, ready to sink into the depths of the bed, when—

He flicks his tongue over my asshole.