From the moment he’d removed the scarf from her eyes, her gaze had never left his. Not once. She gave him that, knew instinctively he needed it. He moved in her, hard, brutal strokes, surging in and out of that scalding tight tunnel of pure silk. He loved the feel of her surrounding him like that, gripping and milking. He stroked the plug in and out of her as a counterpoint to his cock, watching her face as one orgasm rolled into another, even more powerful one.

So beautiful. He breathed the truth into her mind. My world. My incredible wife.

He hammered into her, taking her through another powerful climax and straight into a third. He loved watching her face. He couldn’t get enough of that look, or the indescribable feeling of pure bliss being inside her body in that tunnel of living silk.

I can’t again.

Her voice was breathless. She was already there, clamping down on him with fiery friction, flames dancing as she drew his seed from him, forcing an explosion that left him wrung out, floating with her in some place he’d never been before. If there was ecstasy on earth, right in those moments, he was there.

The emotion for her was so overwhelming he trembled with it as carefully, his body shuddering right along with hers, he began to glide gently in her, bringing her back down with tenderness, as he removed the plug and held her hips to him, still locked together, still moving.

“Unloop the scarves from your wrists, baby.”

She lay looking up at him with that wide, dazed expression he loved so much. “I don’t think I can. I can’t move. I really can’t.” The aftershocks were strong, her body still rippling with life around his.

Her breasts heaved with every ragged breath she drew into her lungs. Her gaze, so green, like two gems, moved over his face. There was stark love on her soft, beautiful features. Stark. Raw. Certain. The expression ripped into his heart, shredded his soul and put him back together again.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered. “So damn much I don’t know how to show you.”

“You showed me,” she whispered.

“Did I scare you?”

She shook her head, her green gaze moving over his face, still claiming him, still loving him. His heart stuttered in his chest. He’d never felt more vulnerable in his life.

“I trust you, Trap. It was exciting. The most exhilarating, beautiful experience of my life. I felt your love surrounding me.”

He’d wanted her to feel it. Wanted her to understand that no matter how much of an ass he was, how foul his mood, how vulgar he sounded, he loved her and he would never harm her. He’d cut out his own heart before he harmed her.

“You knew you could get loose, right? Anytime you wanted?”

She nodded. “Not at first, but later when I had to grip the scarves.”

“And you know, all you have to do if you don’t like something is to say no and I’ll stop. Immediately. That’s all it takes. We can talk about it and how it made you feel. Always, baby, no matter what I’m saying, what’s coming out of my mouth, when I touch you, you should feel love. You don’t, you don’t feel safe, you say so and we stop. That’s a promise.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Trap. I know.”

“I can’t ever let you go. I don’t want you to be my fucking prisoner, Cayenne, but I can’t ever let you go.”

“Come here,” she whispered softly in her voice. The one that crept into a man’s head. Into his soul. “Come here to me. I want to feel your weight.”

He slowly lowered her legs to the mattress from around his waist where he’d drawn them as he’d hammered into her. She seemed far too small and fragile for the rough sex they’d shared. She’d loved it. She pleaded with him for harder. For more. She’d sobbed for relief, but she’d never once stopped him.

He gently stretched out over the top of her, feeling his cock jerk, pulsate with the friction his action caused, but for once in his life he was going soft. Not semisoft, but actually fully relaxed. He kissed her eyes, brushed kisses along her cheekbone and down to the corner of her mouth.

“I love your mouth. Did you know that? I can’t ever get enough of kissing you. Or your taste.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, hands sliding into his hair. The action lifted her breasts, pushing them tight into his chest. “I don’t ever want you to let me go, Trap. You have to understand something about me. I want you to listen and hear me. Really hear me.”

He propped himself up on one elbow to take his weight, allowing his body to release hers, his cock sliding across her hip to rest there while he shifted so he was partially off of her. “I can do that.”

“You’re uncomfortable around people, Trap, even, sometimes, the ones you know and care for. You have affection for them and a fierce loyalty. I feel that loyalty toward them because they make you happy. I like that. I hope to establish friendships with them because of you. Maybe with Nonny, Pepper and Flame for myself. But regardless, I’ll always be uncomfortable around people, just as you are. I spent my life alone. I’ve let you in. I’ll let our children in. Deep. Somewhere deep. But I’m not built for large crowds. Maybe it’s the spider in me. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I spend my time with you, and if we have children, them, and I’ll be content.”

He was silent, aware of his heart pounding hard. She meant that. The money. The fame. The cameras and society trappings meant nothing at all to her. Living there in the swamp, she was most comfortable.

“I’ll give you whatever fucking thing you want, Cayenne,” he promised, meaning it. “I’ll keep you happy, right here in this crazy place that we’re turning into a home. Just say the word and it’s yours.”

Cayenne studied his face. One hand brushed along his jaw and then her fingers slid over his lips. Her hand dropped to his chest to press him back onto the bed. “I take it you’re finished being a world-class bastard for the day?” she asked, turning in his arms to slide one thigh over his. She straddled him, her legs spread wide over his hips, the pads of her fingers stroking his belly.

He nodded. “You tamed the beast as usual, Cayenne.” He was silent for a long moment, watching her face closely.

She could feel him moving in her mind. Moody. Brooding even. Sated. Loving her. She stretched out on top of him, just as sated. “You know why you were upset, don’t you, Trap? It had nothing to do with me not wearing a bra or Malichai. You know that, right?”