“Ahhh! Garrett, what the—”

Before she could finish, he’d lifted her shirt all the way off, hurled it to the floor, and returned his mouth to the peak he’d just pinched, licking the irritated skin with the flat of his tongue.

“Oh.” It left her on a startled breath. The sound turned into another tiny keen when he pulled again at that distended nub, using his teeth this time. She tunneled both her hands into his hair, digging at his scalp with her nails. “Ohhh! Shit!”

She began to writhe now. And God help him, his dick throbbed harder.

She gasped as he took both her hands and pinned them over her head. He snarled low, yanking down his fly with his other hand.

She twisted and trembled. He grunted and gritted his jaw. His precome alone was a geyser. Looking at her like this, completely his, tamed for him at last, his cock was screaming to seal his claim on her.

“Kick the underwear free.” He gave her the order on a harsh, hot rush of sound. “Then you’ll spread wide for me, sugar. I’m gonna claim every inch of you, Sage. Every fucking inch.”

He watched her breath hitch once and then speed up into a wild gallop beneath her trembling breasts. “I love you,” she said again. “I need you. Please, Ga—”

“Hush.” It left him on a monotone, which was an odd contrast to his curt, commanding actions. The second she got the panties free, he pushed back one leg and then the other, letting out a hungry rumble at the sight of her spread and glistening pussy. When he reached and plunged two fingers into her quivering entrance, Sage screamed and then, remarkably, laughed.

“Oh, Garrett! God, yes!”

He lunged over her then, drilling a stare of dark intent into her. Laughing wasn’t part of this. She’d laughed the night before she’d left him, even through her orgasm, drowning him in her joy, her beauty…her love. She’d laughed, filling the condo with it so that the memories of it haunted him for that horrid, dismal week before he was able to get back into the mission rotation on the squad. No. Laughing wouldn’t be a part of things tonight.

“I said hush.”

That was when he flipped her over and brought his hand down on her ass in a resounding smack.

Chapter Four

Wow.

Sage blinked, unsure if she’d actually just experienced…well…that. Had he really just spanked her? Had he really just done it to reinforce an order he’d given her?

If she were honest, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Garrett had burst into her life by defending her honor, fists first, at Opal’s Tavern on that unforgettable June night. He’d sealed the deal just three weeks later, making her body feel like the meteor shower overhead, over and over again. Joe and Hannah Hawkins might as well have given their son the middle name of Firestorm instead of Flynn.

So yeah, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to put the man’s intensity together with all the newer things she’d seen in him over the last four hours. Cobalt smoke hovered at the corners of his gaze, which had once been the pure blue of a summer sky. Tense lines now embedded themselves at the corners of his mouth. Nothing casual remained in how he moved. Every action was sharp, full of purpose and battle-honed balance.

Sage had noticed it all and understood. She’d seen it all and accepted it. His grief for her had gouged a chunk of his soul. He hadn’t filled that hole with anything easy or forgiving, especially for himself.

Now they were just dealing with a few readjustment issues.

To the tune of two more sharp slaps on her backside.

They hurt. Oh damn, how they hurt. For a second, she thought about breaking free and scrambling away. But the next second, something deep inside her body was startled awake. Something illicit, decadent and, until this moment, very secret. She’d thought these dark desires had been banished from her body, long-forgotten before the year in Botswana—even long before she’d met Garrett. For a few brief months, during those carefree months prior to boot camp, she had let illicit fantasies of letting a man bind her, control her, use her solely for his pleasure, romp free in her imagination. But beyond getting her hands on a good vibrator and a few mouthwatering novels, she’d never done anything about them…

Certainly nothing like this.

And ohhhh, how this felt…exhilarating. Heart-stopping. Like she was alive again. Like she was desired again.

Again. Please do it again.

No. Wait. Wait. Okay, her logic was still around here somewhere, right? They needed to talk about this, to figure it out, to set up some—what did the novels call them?—limits. Right. Limits were good to discuss when a guy decided to pull down your panties, flip you over, and then smack his palm on your bare ass.

But she didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound. That shadowy instinct coaxed her to stay motionless, full of trepidation and anticipation, despite this new wilderness of emotional ground for them. It had been a long year for him, too—and eagerness filled her to know more about these new parts of the man who’d snatched her from the jungle, who’d brought her back to life. She wanted to know it all…especially now.

She breathed deep. Again. Then waited, listening to Garrett’s rough exhalations above her. The husky releases were choppy, hesitant, distant. Though the heat of his massive body still hovered over her, she shivered as if he’d left the room.

She continued waiting. It was one of the hardest things she’d done. His silence tormented her. His grip tightened around her wrists. With his other hand, he claimed her spine from nape to ass with a possessive, clawing sweep. A deep moan stole its way up her throat.

“Ssshhh.”

He followed the track of his hand with his mouth, nipping her in tiny but savage bites. Her moan pitched into a little yelp.

“Ssshhh.”

He dipped his touch between her thighs. With just a small grunt of warning, he pinched her sensitive folds.

“Ohhhh!”

He didn’t shush her this time. With one deft move, he turned her over again. Without skipping a beat, he flattened his hand into a paddle and swatted what he’d just pinched.

Wow. And whoa.

“Garrett! What the—shit!”

Her exclamation coincided with the discipline he kept delivering to her mound. Shock ripped through her. And on its heels, self-reprimand. She was just the one asking for more, right? For the chance to finally let her wicked desires flare into delicious flames? Had she meant it, even if her imagination never included this?

Her mind had a tougher time answering that when her body weighed in on the issue. Every nerve ending sizzled like exposed electric lines. The most intense heat came right from the tissues he’d enflamed. Her pussy pulsed with awareness, and her entire vagina trembled and dripped anew. It stole her breath, spiraled her senses, pulled out her deepest sighs. Every swat Garrett gave seemed to unlock something inside her, something amazing. The ugly pain of the last year was slowly replaced by an exquisite pain that set her senses free, that told her body it was all right to feel this way again.

She sighed with the sheer radiance of it, raising her hips, silently begging him for more. She opened her eyes, needing to watch him as he did this, needing to know that this was really what he wanted too…

She blinked in surprise. The view wasn’t what she expected. Garrett’s teeth were locked beneath his slightly parted lips. His jaw was granite hard, and his gaze was the same color and texture. Nothing about him conveyed pleasure or joy. It almost looked like—

Like he wasn’t enjoying this at all.

“Garrett?”

Damn, she wished she could touch him. She needed to soothe the hard lines from his face, to feel his pulse, to try to understand where his thoughts hovered. But she could only watch in mute frustration as his gaze roamed the length of her body again, his expression still impenetrable.

A strange emotion drenched her. She didn’t recognize it at first, but the truth set in, shitty and awful. She was ashamed. Drowning in the stuff. Her body didn’t have the soft, womanly physique Garrett had adored. Her arms and legs were defined by the muscles she’d been utilizing nonstop for a year, but other parts of her were skeletal. Her breasts were at least two cup sizes smaller. Her hip and collarbone jutted from her skin. Her hair had thinned. Even her fingernails were brittle. The erection that jutted from Garrett’s fly was for the body he thought he’d be getting again—the curves of the woman he’d claimed beneath the stars two years ago.