“Christ,” he says, when he breaks the kiss. “Oh, Christ, Nikki.” His hands are all over me—cupping my breasts, following the line of my waist, sliding hard between my legs so that I grind down against him and moan with arousal and a wildly desperate need.

“Yes,” I say, though he has asked me no question. The word is an invitation. An admission. An acknowledgment. I want his touch—I want everything. And I need it, dear lord, how I need it right now.

Most important, I know that he needs it, too. He needs to take me. To claim me.

He needs to bury himself deep inside me and know that no matter how fucked up the outside world becomes, this passion between us will never fade. That I will always be there for him, whenever and however he wants.

“Yes,” I say again, even as he undresses me, not bothering with buttons or zippers but yanking me out of my skirt and ripping my blouse open so that only seconds pass before I feel his mouth close over my breast.

He is wild and hot and though I know the source of this—though I know that this intense need stems directly from all the shit that has been piled upon us—I cannot deny that I love the way he is making me feel.

“Tell me,” he says, breathing hard as he cups my face. “Are you okay?”

I nod, because I understand the foundation of his question. This is not only about Damien regaining control, it is about him giving me what I need—wild, hard, fast sex. Intense. Hot.

Pleasure and pain—but right now, it is not the pain that I need.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I swear I’m fine.” An odd laugh bubbles out of me. “I didn’t even think of it,” I realize. “I never thought of a blade, never imagined its weight in my hand or the sensation of metal slicing through flesh. Damien,” I murmur, and my heart is beating fast as the full realization of what I am saying washes over me. “I didn’t think of it at all. All I thought of was you. All I wanted was to get to you.”

It is a big thing, and Damien knows it. Before, I’ve fought the urge to cut, using him as a weapon. This time, I didn’t even crave the blade, only the man.

I crave him still, and when he looks at me with heat and wonder in his eyes, I pull him close and beg him to please, please fuck me. “I need you,” I say. “Only you. And I know that you need me.” I brush my lips over his ears. “Anything you want, Damien. Anything you need.”

I see the heat in his eyes, but I am unprepared when he lashes out, slams his hand so hard against the wall behind me that it shakes. “Goddammit.” He backs away from me, as if horrified that he brought violence so close to me, and then kicks over the coffee table, sending all the magazines tumbling.

“Damien!” I go to him and catch his wrists. “Damien, talk to me.”

He pulls me hard against him, then presses my head to his chest, his fingers twined in my hair. I can hear the beat of his heart, fast and steady, and I want to kiss him all over. Kiss him and make it better, even though this is something even the most fervent of kisses won’t fix.

“All I want to do is keep you safe from them,” he finally says. “These goddamn vultures—and yet they’re everywhere. They’ve followed us from day one. Before we were even married. On our honeymoon. Now this.”

“These pictures aren’t about me,” I say.

“The hell they’re not.”

I swallow, because I fear that he is right. Didn’t Carmela even hint at that very thing?

“All I want is to fucking protect you.”

His words reverberate through me, and I pull my head back so that I can see his face. “You do. Christ, Damien, how can you not know that you do? I’m safe with you. I’m whole with you.”

He stares down at me, his dual-colored eyes so wild that I fear the storm will consume us both.

Then something seems to shatter in him and he kisses me hard before pulling me close. “You’re my blood and my breath, Nikki. You’re my life. I will always fight for you. I will always come to you. And I will happily destroy anyone who tries to hurt you.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“I need you.” His voice is raw, and I can feel the heat rolling off him. “Christ, Nikki, I need you now.”

“Yes.” It’s all I say. It’s enough.

He takes me to the window and puts my hands on the glass. “Close your eyes,” he says, as he starts to ease kisses down my spine.

I shiver as sparks of electricity ricochet through me, priming me for his touch and leaving my body begging for more.

“Do you feel it?” he asks. “The cool glass against your hot skin, your nipples tight and needy. There’s a whole world out there, and you are naked before it.”

“Yes,” I murmur. He’s taken me in front of a window before, and he knows that I like it. I hadn’t expected to, but there is something so wildly freeing about the world falling away even as passion takes you higher.

His kisses have reached the base of my spine and now he uses his hands to silently urge my legs apart. He strokes me, teasing my clit with a single fingertip but not slipping inside me despite the way I wiggle my hips, my soft moans of longing coming even without conscious thought.

“Turn around,” he demands, and when I do, he lifts me up so that my thighs are resting on his hips. He holds me steady by cupping my ass, and I arch back as he thrusts into me, the back of my head brushing the glass wall as I do.

I clutch his shoulders, my fingernails digging into him as he thrusts again, the movement pushing my back against the window so that I am pinned there between him and the glass. Unlike a bed, there is no give, and I feel the power of each of his thrusts, so deep and hard that it seems as if he will split me in two, and oh, god, how I want that.

I close my eyes and give myself over to the pleasure of his touch, of his power. I want him to take me, to have me. Maybe the world outside is going crazy, but in here, I am his.

I am always his.

And between us, the world is exactly as we want it.

Tension fills his body, then bursts out of him as a powerful orgasm rocks him. I hold on, letting his release roll through me, relishing the way he looks and feels when he loses control, all barriers down, all control surrendered to me, to this moment.

“I love you,” I cry as my own release takes me, and I cling to him until the waves of passion slow and I can breathe normally again.

“I know,” he whispers, his lips brushing my ear. “We love each other.”