The sun burns my retinas when I wake up. Every muscle of mine feels like it's been stretched and twisted into some fucking sailor knot. I sit up like a vampire in his coffin, creaks and all, lean my head over to either side, and rotate my shoulders and neck. My joints crack like they haven't been used in centuries. At least my head doesn't hurt. But what the fuck is that noise?

I turn towards it and instinctively go for my gun before my brain processes the person standing there. It's Kaen. Kaen holding out his phone from which that godforsaken flute song plays—the one they play in movies when someone wakes up in the morning.

"Shut that fucking thing off," I snap. "What time is it?"

"Noon," he says, locking his phone and sparing my ears. "You should appreciate the classics more, brother."

"Noon?" I jump to my feet, my vision going dark from the headrush. "Why didn't you wake me up? What happened to my alarm?"

"This alarm?" He reaches into his back pocket and pulls my phone out. I'd recovered it and Sienna's last night as he and I barrelled through that police station.

The black spots in my vision fade quickly, making it all the easier to glare at him. "Kaen, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to keep you from killing yourself," he tosses my phone onto my bed, smiling. "You're welcome."

I glare harder.

"Jesse," his face falls and he looks at me squarely, holding my gaze levelly. "You needed rest."

"I needed—"

"You collapsed," his eyes flash with stubborn rage. "Do you even remember what happened?"

I blink, noticing the odd chafing in my body, the heavy fabric around my waist and legs. Looking down, I realize I'm fully dressed in my torn and bloodied shirt and my tattered jeans. I bring my nose to my shoulder, sniff, and gag. I smell like at least three dead animals. Blood, sweat, vomit, you name it. I'm pretty sure I still have a piece of someone's skull stuck in my jeans.

"We got to the cottage," I tell Kaen, running through the last of my memories. "Elijah had Sienna, he carried her to Tiago's car and sent Imari and Valerie off with her. You took me to Anton."

I remember bits and pieces of what happened next—parts of Kaen relaying what happened with his mother, Gage whistling in response to something about Valerie, Tiago being a dense idiot, Elijah handing Kaen his mother's phone, all of us walking down the porch steps... And that's it. All black from then until a few moments ago.

"You had it worse than Sienna," Kaen says, eyes darkening. "She wasn't used as a speedbag. You needed rest. Probably more than you got, but I know you'll have my head if I let the day pass you by. Be happy I'm the one babysitting you."

I close my eyes and sigh, sensing every ache in my body. I drop to the edge of the bed.

"Thank you," I whisper between my hands.

"You're my fucking brother," Kaen says. "It's what I do. Take your 'thank yous' and shove them up your stiff ass."

I smile and even that is painful.

"And have a fucking shower," he adds. "You stink."

I allow myself a chuckle and look up at him. "Where's Sienna?"

"Asleep in her room," Kaen looks out my window. "Everyone's out on business and Anton's taken Holly to the fair. We three are the only ones here."

He brings his eyes back to me. "Soon it'll just be the two of you."

My heart stops dead in my chest at that look. Jesse you fucking moron...

"I fucking blabbed, didn't I?" My lips say without my permission.

Kaen snorts. "Of course you did."

I let out a groan I never thought I had in me as I put the back of my hands to my forehead and fall backwards to my bed. I feel the weight beside me shift as Kaen takes a seat.

"Well, go ahead," I move my hands higher and sigh, "let me have it."

He crosses his arms and smirks. "Let you have what?"

"Stop fucking with me and get it over with."

"I'll only fuck with you if the woman we fuck is Sienna. Speaking of which, you should get on that."

I blink, sitting up and looking him over. "What?"

"You haven't done it yet, right? Professed your love to her in a moment rivalling in melodrama with some of Tiago's wildest fantasies and you still don't even know what it feels like to be inside her." His smirk widens. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

I stare at him, still blinking. "Are you dense?"

"Are you?

"Kaen," I rub my forehead, "I told her I loved her and she clearly doesn't feel the same way. Would that make her want to fuck me more in your world?"

"Jesse," he leans forward, "Why are you acting like she's just your average girl?"

I open my mouth but he cuts me off.

"This is Sienna," he says, "She doesn't tell you she loves you. She shows it."

He holds my gaze levelly again like he's trying to sear his every word into my skull with his eyes. Then he smirks again and leans back, "So let her show you."

I take a deep, shuddering breath.

"If it makes you feel any better, it took her her whole life to admit it to Valerie," Kaen says.

"Wait, what?"

He chuckles at my blank stare. "You really don't remember anything."

I shake my head. Sienna and Valerie?

"There's a lot to catch you up on," my brother says, standing up. "Maybe do it over some pillow talk. I have to go—I'm meeting Imari about the Diego thing."

"He agreed?"

"Yeah," he smiles again, but there's nothing playful about it this time. "We'll sort it out."

"Kaen," I stand. Normally, I'm an inch or two taller than him, but he's wearing his combat boots so our eyes meet on the same level. I can see the twinge of pain in his. "Are you good? With everything?"

His smile falters for a moment, looking like the unhinged Kaen I know, but the mask comes back on quickly. "I'm fine."

I don't buy it for a second, but I also know when my brother doesn't want to talk about it, so I nod and drop the subject.

"Give those back to Sienna," he nods at my bedside table where several combat knives and a Glock lie. Then he looks at me again. "And, please, for the love of everything good in this world, take a bath."

 ━━▲━━ 

I don't take a bath, I shower.

I know a bath is more relaxing for your muscles or whatever, but it doesn't give me the bliss of water rushing down my back and the sound of it hitting the tiles, helping me think. Plus, I can't have a bath without it reminding me of what happened with Sienna and, right now, I don't want my thoughts clouded by that. I need to think about how to approach her, everything else will come later.

Still, it's hard not to imagine her standing next to me under the stream, her hair plastered to her breasts, her legs wrapping around me, welcoming me inside her, her tongue in my mouth vibrating as she moans against it, her nails scratching at my back and scalp.

Fuck, why did I have to open my big mouth? Now I don't know if she'd ever be willing to do this with me. Maybe Kaen is right, maybe it's not the big deal that I'm making it out to be, but fuck, I could've found that out on my own. Now he's put this idea in my head and left us alone and I can't stop thinking about it and it's eating me alive.

Not to mention that I feel like I've been pushed off of Burj Khalifa's highest floor. Every knot that the hot water releases is replaced by two more thanks to my spiraling mind which can't stop thinking about her. Worst of all is that one muscle. The one that yearns for her body more than it has ever yearned for anything or anyone in its life. I have no idea where I get the self-control not to beat it into oblivion. Maybe it's the anticipation, or maybe it's because I don't want to be the sad rejected loser who jerks off in the shower instead of getting the girl, but either way I somehow manage.

Not only do I manage, but I somehow last long enough to find myself at her door, her weapons and phone in hand, other hand raised to knock on it.

But it opens before I get the chance and I see her standing there, taking my breath away. She's in an emerald silk robe, hair damp, smelling like peaches and jasmine. She's gotten some bruises and scratches yesterday, but nothing too severe, and the large bruise on her neck is a faded yellow. She's frowning at me, her green-grey eyes accusatory. My heart sinks.

"Uh..." I say, a million thoughts rushing through my head. Like how this was probably Kaen's worst idea to date, how I can kiss every single imaginary moment with her goodbye, how I absolutely and utterly fucked up. I look down, away from her looming eyes, and remember her knives. "I brought your—"

The smack on my left cheek sends my face flying to the side. The heat in it turns to an agonizing burn like a wound that festers. I breathe out of my nose, not daring to look at her. I deserve this, to be fair, I'd slap me too. I kept thinking about what this all means to me, but not what it means to her. Yes, I considered she wouldn't want to have anything to do with me, but I never considered why. She's going through more than some people go through in their lifetimes, and here I am adding another fucking problem for her. What a fucking—

Hands grab my collar and pull me in. Her weapons and phone drop to the floor as she presses her lips to mine. Her breath is rapid, synced with the movement of her lips and tongue inside my mouth. I kiss her back instinctively, wrapping my arms against her waist, balling up her silk robe in my fists, cupping her ass and pressing her to me.

I don't know what's going on but, like a fucking dog at the sight of his owner coming home, I don't care about anything else. Nothing but her taste, her scent, her touch, nothing but her.

Then she pulls away, leaving us both panting in sync. The look in her eyes this time is softer, but the accusation is still there, still stabbing me where it hurts.

"Never," she says, voice cracking, tears rimming her eyes, "ever do that again."

She doesn't let me answer, doesn't let me tell her how sorry I am, that she can forget I said anything at all.

"Never make me leave you," she chokes, "Do you hear me? Never."

I feel my mouth fall. "What?"

She drags me in by my collar and slams the door shut. Knives scrape the floor outside but she doesn't seem to care. She pushes me against the wall and I let her, staring dumbfounded into those eyes that don't leave any room for question.

"You have no fucking right," she growls, tears rolling down her face, "to tell me to run and leave you. Ever. And if you do, you bet your fucking ass I'm not listening. You're gonna have to knock me out and drag me away from your idiotic attempt at martyrdom. Am I clear?"

I open my mouth to speak, to argue, to tell her that this is not what I thought she'd be upset about.

"Jesse Dean Porter, am I clear?!" She yells as something shifts in her eyes, making me visibly shiver. They bare into my soul, pinning me to the wall like her hands are. But where I have the strength to fight her hands off, the needle her eyes pin me with is stronger than me. She has me trapped, and I have nothing to face, nowhere to look, but right into them. She really is her father's daughter when she needs to be, isn't she?

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Yes, ma'am."

She holds my gaze like that, then releases me, stepping back and looking me over.

"Sienna—"

"Take your shirt off," she commands in the same tone.

I blink.

"I won't repeat myself," she tells me.

Slowly, muscles aching something awful, I do as she tells me.

"Now your pants."

My heart jumps to my throat. "Sienna I'm not wearing any—"

But that look turning ice cold stops my words in my mouth and I slide my sweats right off. Her eyes study my naked body, the ice giving way to fire. They linger on my stiffening cock for a moment longer than anywhere else save for the scar on my liver, but she brings them to my face all the same, her breath coming faster, her eyes blazing hot.

"Get on the bed," she jerks her head in that direction. I do so, apprehension and adrenaline making my heart do a whole fucking pommel horse routine. She retrieves some bottle from the bathroom and rounds the bed's other side.

"Lie on your stomach," she says. I do it, the silk sheets cold against my skin.

A rustle of fabric, then her legs straddling my hips. There's no caress of silk on my back, just her bare skin. She sits on my ass, making me feel how wet she is, and I get rock-hard.

A bottle uncapping followed by a warm trickle down my back. Hands dipping into it, sliding up to the back of my neck and down to my ass, back and forth and melting all of my anxiety away. They go to my trap, fingers working my knots like magic between my shoulder blades. She even brings her elbow to them, making me moan in pleasure.

"You're tighter than a virgin's pussy," she says, her own pussy dripping all over me, "you should come to me more often."

"If you're offering," I drawl.

She loosens the muscles in my shoulders and neck, holding the latter between her fingers while her thumbs work the knots at the back.

"Okay," she breathes, lifting off of me, "turn around."

I'm all too happy to obey.

She's sitting on her heels, hands and thighs slick with oil, face red, eyes ablaze, nipples hard enough to cut glass. To borrow Tiago's artistic flare, she's like Venus come to life.

Her eyes immediately go to my cock and I don't miss the second of concern on her face before she bites her lower lip. Again, I go to speak, to tell her that she doesn't have to do anything even though I want nothing more than to be inside her, but she only straddles my thighs again, puts her pelvis right by my rock hard cock, and squirts body oil all over my torso.

Her hands work their magic, kneading the muscles of my chest and my abdomen. I can feel the heat radiating between her legs and have to bite my lip to keep it under control. She can't keep doing this to me, I'm going to fucking explode.

When her fingers reach my shoulders, she pushes my cock up with her pelvis. Her skin brushes against it like butter while her fingers dig into my deltoids and my trap again. Her heat travels up my shaft as she moves, each time coming closer, closer, closer until she presses herself to me. I feel her envelop me in her lips, her clit brushing against my shaft as she grinds on me. My whole fucking body feels like it's been supercharged with her essence, and I feel lightheaded as she increases her pace. Only now do I notice that she'd stopped massaging me, digging her fingers into my skin instead.

"You know the best part," she whispers with a smile and a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Is that I can easily come just doing this."

I give her a smile of equal mischief as I put my hand to the back of her head, cupping her skull. "No one's stopping you."

Her breath quickens with her grinding. One hand releases my shoulder and grasps the arm that's holding her. Her eyes go wide, pleading. Then she spasms on my shaft and I bring her mouth to mine. She screams into it, panting, digging the nails of one hand into my shoulder and holding on for dear life to my arm with the other. I devour her mouth but hold the rest of my body still, letting her ride out her orgasm until I feel her shakes subside.

She breaks away, opening her eyes, panting, and smiling. I smile back, proud of myself for not coming. I don't want this to end so quickly.

"You're fucking beautiful," I tell her as I brush away the hair plastered to her face.

She laughs, pushing my hands back, pinning them to my sides, and leaning close.

"Look who's talking," she says and kisses me.

She takes her mouth down to my chin, dragging her teeth along my neck, kissing my oiled chest, dragging down my abs until she comes to my aching cock still slick with her. She looks up at me with that fire in her eyes that makes it so much harder to control myself.

"You've always been so good to me, Jesse," she takes my length in her hand. "You don't have to be right now. Let me be good to you instead."

Her breath brushes my tip, sending shivers through my back.

"Take me however you want," she says, letting the tip of her tongue touch me and making my breath hitch with the need for more. "I'm yours."

With that, she wraps her mouth around my tip, bringing another shudder out of me. My hands fly to her hair, fingers tangling in it. I feel her mouth and throat struggle to take my width in, but they do. She pushes me in further. And further. And further until I feel her stop and her tears drop on my thighs. She has a lot of me left, enough to fit both her hands in the space between us. My fist clenches in her hair. I know what she said but I'm not assuming this hasn't changed her mind.

But she puts her hand to the back of my fist and presses on it, and I don't need to be told twice.

Her head slams against me as I push her throat up my cock, sending me halfway to heaven. She loses purchase and her arms splay out to either side. Tears stream down her face. She tries breathing through her nose but her nostrils flair breathless.

This won't do.

I release her, letting her instincts take over and pull me out. She's coughing and gasping for air as the last of her tears leave her. I wet my lips before I speak.

"Maybe we should—"

"No."

And she takes me in again. This time, she focuses on my head while rubbing the rest of me with her hands.

"Fuck, Sienna," I gasp when she engages her tongue and she flicks its tip repeatedly right under my head, working it like it's what she was fucking born to do. She looks up at me with that fire in her eyes, that eagerness to please me. I've been with countless women, had even more suck me off, but none of them even come close to her, to how she looks, how she makes me feel, how eager she is to give me everything I want.

Fuck it.

I grab her hair and yank her up to me. She yelps as I slam her mouth onto mine. I growl as I taste every corner of her mouth with my tongue, then I pull away and look into her eyes.

"You want me to take you how I damn well please, huh?" I pant. "You want me to do whatever I want with you?"

She nods eagerly, the fire blazing hot.

"Then get on your fucking knees," I growl and push her off of me as I sit up. She does as I told her, the look of victory and curiosity in her eyes. She's never seen me like this before and she wants to see what it's like. She needs to be very careful what she wishes for.

I get behind her and tangle my hand in her hair again, pulling hard. She moans as I bring her face to mine, but I don't kiss her. Instead, I rake my free hand through her body, making her shudder until I reach one hard nipple. I circle it in sync with her breath, then caress it gently. It's so fucking perfect, like a pearl under my fingers.

Then I squeeze it, making her yelp and open her mouth in pain. I hold it there, forcing her to look at me, watching that pain turn to pleasure.

And I slam her face to the bed.

I use my free hand to spread her legs apart and, with no preamble, stick two fingers inside her. Her breath hitches before she moans. She's so fucking wet that I barely feel any resistance as I push my fingers in and out of her.

I take my hand out and open her legs wider. Leaning forward, I adjust my body so I'm squatting right above her entrance. Before I do anything else, I let myself pause and admire her; her face buried in the sheets, red under my pressing hand, her pussy soaking wet for me, her ass in the air for me to do with as I please. And I want to do oh so fucking much to it, but I know she won't be able to take my size there yet, no matter what she says.

She looks at me from the corner of her eye and smiles, and I finally give my dick what it's been begging for.

She screams into the bedding as I submerge head to base inside her. She's so fucking wet, so fucking tight that I almost come right there. I feel like I'm in heaven between her walls, that warmth which I only got a tease of when she came on me, now engulfing me fully and completely. A part of me—a very big part—wants to never leave them.

I pull out to my tip and grunt as I slam into her again. This time, her scream is more of a moan. I do it again and again, her moans building each time as I find my rhythm.

"Jesse, I'm so fucking full," she drones. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

I growl as I go faster, making her moan something between pain and bliss, her drawn-out cries hitching. I release her head, using the wall ahead of me for purchase as I rail her harder. Fucking hell, she feels so amazing. How is she real?

"How does it feel," I pant, "To be so full of me?"

She wails. I ram harder and she screams.

"I asked you a fucking question, Sienna!"

"It's," she breathes, "fucking incredible."

I growl. "You better enjoy it because I'm very fucking close."

"Come inside me," she moans, "please, please Jesse."

She didn't say where.

I pull out of her and grab her hair again. Before she can even think to complain, I bring her mouth to my cock and shove myself down her throat, burying my cock in it to my balls as I empty down her fucking esophagus.

I have to keep one hand on the wall to not fall over. I shake and curl my toes as waves of indescribable bliss overtake me. My cock throbs in her throat and I pant as it contracts against it, prolonging my vision-blurring, star-filled ecstasy.

When I get back to my body, I look down at her tear-stained face and my heart immediately falls. When I pull out of her, she coughs and pants again. When she's done, I hold her face in my hands.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, my heart hammering against my chest. "Was that too much?"

She laughs, cupping my face in turn, and shakes her head with a smile.

"It was amazing," she says and kisses me.