30

“If you hope to defeat me, you’re going to need a bigger pair of balls. Would you like to borrow a pair from my case?”

—Thane, Sent One

IN HIS BEDROOM, Baden stripped himself, then stripped Katarina. He tossed their soiled garments into the unlit hearth, planning to burn them later and scatter the ashes.

“Wait!” She rushed to the clothes and dug through the pile. A moment of insanity? Understandable, considering everything that had transpired today.

She stood, radiating relief, and strode to the bed, where she straightened the pillows.

“The bed is fine as is.” He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom...placed her in the shower stall. Hot water sprayed and steam thickened the air. He climbed in behind her to wash the blood from her, still rocked to the core that she’d cried today.

Rocked to the core, and torn to shreds. The beast prowled through his mind, on edge and inconsolable. They could have lost her. The way Baden’s friends had once lost him.

And really, Baden could have lost Galen and Fox, too. Hellhounds had had the pair pinned in the kitchen, ready to attack. As exasperating as both warriors were, he’d realized he liked having them in his life.

Thankfully, upon seeing Katarina, the hounds had backed down and joined their pack in the yard, where they had remained.

“Everything’s going to be all right.” He cupped her cheeks, wet skin against wet skin. “The dogs are your personal army now. You’ll never be in harm’s way again.”

“I’m not afraid,” she muttered.

“Tell me what’s wrong, then, and I’ll fix it.” He would fix it and every other problem for the rest of her life. She was his. His to pleasure and to pamper. His to protect, right alongside the dogs. Will always protect.

Never letting her go.

She gazed up at him through water-beaded lashes. “I don’t want to talk right now. I want to enjoy you, to make a memory that will last forever.”

If she wanted a memory, he would give her a memory.

He sat on the bench, pulling her onto his lap. She straddled his thighs, the showerhead at her back. Without preamble, he thrust a finger deep inside her.

She was ready for him. But then, desire remained on constant simmer between them.

“I need inside you.”

“Yes.”

He gripped her by the waist, lifted her, and impaled her with a single thrust. No foreplay. Just raw passion.

Crying out, she arched her hips, moving sensuously on him. He grit his teeth and forced her to wait, motionless. Sweat rolled from him, the strength he displayed superhuman. The lack of friction was agonizing, but it was an agony he willingly endured.

“Well,” she said and nipped his bottom lip. “That is certainly interesting.”

“You have no idea. And I’m only getting started.”

“Mmm. I hope so.” Her eyelids lowered to half mast. She placed kisses along the line of his jaw. “I’ve never wanted you more.”

She wanted him, not because he was a weapon to be used, but because he was a man. Her man. He had worth, not because of what he could do for her, but because of who he was to her. A truth as powerful as it was humbling.

“You’ll get your climax.” Eventually.

He angled his arm, two of his fingers finding her bundle of nerves. He stroked and stoked her desires. She moaned. She groaned. She breathed his name and writhed her hips in an attempt to follow his movements. When that failed, she grinded on his shaft—or tried to. He continued to hold her immobile.

“Baden!” She beat at his shoulders. “You’re determined to kill me, yes?”

“I am an assassin, desire my weapon.”

“Move!”

Her inner walls clenched his length tighter and tighter, growing hotter and hotter, wetter and wetter. Destruction wanted to give in. Baden wanted to give in. But the outcome was far too important.

Eternity versus momentary. Eternity won.

“I’ll move,” he vowed. “After we talk.”

She unleashed a string of Slovak profanity.

Destruction laughed, delighting in her temper. The beast knew, like Baden, she would never betray them.

“Bodaj ta porantalo.” I wish you got a stroke. “Z chujem si˛e na głowy pozamieniałe´s.” You swapped heads with your own dick. “Id´z pan w chuj.” Go to the dick.

“That’s twice you’ve mentioned my dick,” he told her. “Are you, perchance, trying to tell me you wish to give me my reward at long last? To take me down your throat?”