His teeth dragged along his bottom lip ring. “It’s y-you. Ain’t near as m-many barriers in my way, no python choking me t-tight when I’m around you. It’s freedom.”

Placing my palms on his chest, I pushed him to the side, climbing on to straddle his waist. I drank in his naked form: muscles, tanned skin, colorful tattoos, pure masculine perfection. My finger began an exploration starting at his beautifully rugged face, down his rough cheeks, down his neck, over his raised pink swastika scar.

He flattened my hand to his chest. “It don’t b-bother me.”

I glanced up in surprise, then frowned, questioning, “Does it not? Those men carved up your chest.”

He shook his head. “It f-fuels me, babe. Makes me st-stronger.”

I bent down and pressed my lips to his. As I pulled back, I slipped off his waist and climbed off the bed. I caught a glimpse of him over my shoulder and he smirked in response.

Walking to the black leather chair in the corner of the room, I picked up Styx’s Fender and made my way back to the bed.

Styx rolled to his side, leaning on his hand. “You want me to teach you again?”

I shook my head and lowered my eyes, placing the Fender in my lap. “I want to play you something.” My eyes fluttered up to meet his.

Styx’s mouth dropped open, then closed again. “You w-wanna play… f-for me?”

“I have been practising. Beauty helped me get some music and well, while you have been out on runs, I have learned a song for you.” I knew I was blushing bright red. I could feel the fire under my skin.

“Babe…” Styx whispered. When I glanced at him once more, he urged me to play with a jerk of his chin.

Taking a deep breath, I positioned the guitar and began clumsily strumming the first chords. I watched as a proud smile spread across Styx’s handsome face. This spurred me on; it was time for me to sing.

“I hope you’re the end of my story. I hope you’re as far as it goes. I hope you’re the last words I ever utter. It’s never your time to go…” I sang each line exactly like I had practised. Styx’s face lit up, showing pride had given way to utter adoration. I meant every word of the song, the lyrics a benediction on my lips.

As I let the last chord of Pistol Annie’s “I Hope You’re the End of My Story” drift to a close, Styx ripped the Fender from my arms and tossed it to the floor.

“Styx!” I squealed as he trapped me below his huge body, his length hardening against my thigh. “Fuck, Mae…”

“Did you like it?” I asked as I squirmed against his chest, my arms wrapping around his broad back.

“Mmm… babe. Y-your voice… p-perfect.”

Styx lifted his hips. With one swift thrust, he plunged himself within my depths. A long groan cascaded from my mouth at the feeling, the pressure, the fire… the perfection. Linking his fingers around mine, Styx powered forward in long, forceful thrusts. His hazel eyes never left mine as he burrowed himself farther inside me, the tip of his length hitting my womb.

“Styx,” I moaned as his movements became frenetic.

“Come,” he commanded in one long growl. “Come. N-now.”

Spurred on by his commands, an irresistible pressure built at the base of my spine and suddenly exploded, bright stars dancing behind my eyes.

“Mae!” Styx hissed from above me, body stilled, neck corded, tendons straining, his length expanding almost painfully inside me.

With soft thrusts, he relaxed above me, slipping to the side to rid me of his massive weight. His warm seed trickled down my inner thighs.

A large hand pressed against my cheek and Styx guided me to share his pillow. “I c-can’t believe you c-came back after all th-these years.”

My heart danced in my chest. “It was meant to be.”

Styx shifted uncomfortably on the bed before inching in closer. “M-Mae?”

“Yes,” I whispered, my breath held.

“I—”

Heavy footsteps suddenly pounded outside the door, interrupting Styx.

“PREZ! MAE! Watch out!” a muffled voice shouted from the hallway. The bedroom door burst open with a terrific bang and I screamed as a bloodied man was pushed into the room, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Four men in balaclavas then charged in, guns instantly aimed at our heads.

Styx lunged out of bed and stormed toward the men, but he was felled by the barrel of a large gun crunching into his temple. I screamed again, realizing Styx was in danger, then scrambled to cover myself with the sheet and caught sight of the other beaten man on the floor.

No… no… no… no… Rider!

Rider, half naked and hurt. His swollen eyes opened a fraction and his brown-eyed gaze met mine. Sadness surged through me and my stomach sank.

This is why he has been missing from his home. He has been abducted, I thought, staring at his beaten, bloodied body.

“Get on your knees!” the man leading the group shouted in a deep, rigid voice. A second man leapt at the bed and aggressively gripped my arm.

“You too, whore!”

His hand slipped into my hair and, wrapping it around his fist, he threw me to the floor. My scalp screamed in pain as I was roughly pushed between Styx and Rider, who were braced on their knees with heads down.

As I hit the floor, the sheet covering my body slipped away and a pained hiss slipped through Styx’s teeth. I risked a glance to see him glowering my way; death stalked his hazel eyes as he stared daggers at the man above me… the man who was staring at my exposed flesh. I was bare, for all to see. The room grew silent and I heard Rider suck in a sharp breath. When I glanced up in his direction, his brown eyes roved lustfully along my frame.