Her hand clamped over his mouth.

“You are forgiven, Alistair. I told you.” She hiccupped, woefully, and the tears started to fall again. She wiped them before they fell on Alistair’s sweater. “I cried because when I looked in the mirror-”

“Oh, Christ,” he murmured and he leaned his cheek against hers, cradling her face between his face and his shoulder.

They remained silent for a long time. Sophia’s occasional sniffs punctuated the silence.

He buried his head in her hair and whispered, “I don’t know what got into me.”

I know. You, Alistair Connor, were psychotically jealous and went berserk.

Instead of voicing her thoughts or talking back, she caressed his hair and nape and murmured, “Make love to me.”

And I’ve gone completely insane.

He lifted his head, disbelief shimmering in his forest-green eyes for a second. “You don’t mean it. We have to talk about what happened-”

“We do. But later,” she whispered, careful not to scare him with her voice. She cupped his head to bring his lips close to hers, running her tongue over their seam, and playfully licking them. “I want you to make love to me. Gently. And slowly.”

“I’ll be gentle, Beauty,” he murmured, ashamed. His eyes were so dark they seemed black. He kissed her tenderly and raised his head a bit, to look into her eyes. He whispered again on her mouth, his voice strained and sorrowful, “I’m sorry, Sophia. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know,” she rasped, “we’re going to work this out.” And kissed him with all the faith inside her heart. “You have to start believing. In you. In me. In us.”

He returned the kiss, completely bewildered by her.

“Are you sore?” he breathed.

What do you think? You took me like a savage. “Uh…” She lowered her eyelids warring with the mixed feelings inside her. And you liked it, Sophia, you know you did. Sophia was totally baffled by her lack of self-preservation. Or at least, she told herself that. She wasn’t ready to face the deep feelings she had for Alistair and how they made her vulnerable to his whims.

“I know I was a brute, last night.” His hand cupped her face making her look at him. “The truth, Sophia.”

“A bit,” she whispered.

“I’ll be so gentle,” he murmured on her lips. He lowered his head to hers and took her mouth in a long, slow kiss, his tongue leisurely exploring her soft lips.

He nibbled his way down her neck. “Sophia, I-” he started to whisper against the skin of her jaw only to stop short, jerking his head up to look at her. I… love you? I love you. I. Love. You. The thought and the feeling made his chest expand painfully. It scared him. Christ. Is this for real?

“What?” she breathed on his mouth.

His green eyes flashed and a soft expression appeared on his face. One Sophia had never seen before. Alistair lovingly stroked her cheekbones and her jaw with his thumbs as if seeing her for the first time. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” he murmured and bent his head to kiss her softly on the lips. His heart beat so fiercely it made him dizzy. “No, that’s not right,” he shook his head, raising it a bit to look deep into her eyes, he picked up her hand, putting it over his heart and rephrased, “I- I love you, Sophia.”

She blinked, “Oh.” She put her other hand in his silky raven hair and a beautiful, huge smile spread over her face, “And it scares the hell out of you, doesn’t it?

“Aye. It does.” He nodded, studying her face and bright clear eyes. “But it does not scare you, does it?”

If possible, her smile broadened even more, “No. Not a bit.” And she tugged his head down for a kiss that transmitted all her belief in him.


Alistair watched Sophia as she dozed snuggled to his body. If you give me another chance, I’ll fight all my inner demons and rebuild my life with you. I’m never going to hurt you again, mo chridhe. I swear it.

He brushed away her hair to look closely at the marks on her neck and brushed his fingers over them, flinching when she, even in her sleep, moved away from his touch.

His mouth pressed into a hard line. His violent gesture puzzled and shocked him. He had never been that aggressive before with any woman. Not even with Heather when he discovered her betrayal. Aye, I like to whip and spank women, but it is just for fun and pleasure. He scowled at himself. Fun? Pleasure? Really, Alistair Connor?

He shook his head. Since he had role-played as a dominant for Heather, for the first time he was horrified at that thought. Maybe with Heather it had been role-play, but after her… After her, I’ve been doing it as vengeance. But then, they always liked it and kept returning for more. He thinned his lips, aggravated. And, you, Alistair Connor? And you? Were you happy with that life?

He recalled all his black deeds with a new perspective. Sophia is worth a change. I have to make the right choices from now on.

When he was the same age she is now, he had behaved rakishly and recklessly, not caring about the consequences. In the exact opposite direction as her, instead of fortifying his character, he had debauched himself even more as the years went by. He had been punished with the death of an unborn baby and of his dear daughter. But it hadn’t been enough. I’ve drowned myself in an unbelievably dark and evil pool of mud and sewage for years.

Sophia shifted in his arms and moaned. He looked again at her neck and closed his eyes, sighing. There was no reason to react that strongly to a scene like the one I witnessed last night. He narrowed his arms around her. It was a simple conversation between friends. Nothing more.

Then a dark memory insinuated itself in his mind. The photos of his late wife with so many different men and women popped into his mind. A ferocious wrath surged through his body. In an attempt to control himself, he bit his inner cheek and tasted blood. You’re too biased, Alistair Connor. He shook his head and shooed the memories of Heather away.

Sophia has never given me cause to doubt her. And he remembered how she defended her late husband from Ethan’s cruel words and how love and admiration still showed in her voice when she spoke of him.

He looked down at her again as she shifted away from his body, leaving him cold.

Sophia’s head moved on the bed from side to side. Her eyelids tightened and her whole face contracted. She started to pant.

He shook her tenderly, murmuring her name but she was too caught up in the throes of the nightmare to wake up from it gently.

Her right hand shot up to her left upper arm, startling him.

He tried again and she moaned in pain and arched violently on the bed, panting harder.

Christ. “Sophia,” he called, louder, “wake up.”

Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and she kicked the sheets. They tangled around her legs, making her more agitated. A broken and rough scream escaped from her throat.

Alistair’s heart shattered in a million pieces at another evidence of his thoughtless act. “Fuck, Sophia, wake up,” he yelled and shook her shoulders hard, her head bouncing up and down on the pillow. “I said wake up,” he roared.

Sophia’s disturbed and teary eyes shot open. She stared dumbly at him for a few moments until she could comprehend where she was. She sucked in a ragged breath and closed her eyes again, thinning her lips.

“You okay?” He released her shoulders slowly. He noticed that his fingers left red marks, new indentations on her skin. Great, Alistair Connor. Just great. You are going to cover the woman’s entire body in black-and-blue marks by the end of the day.

“Yes. I’m okay,” she answered hoarsely. “I-I’m sorry.”

He wrapped her in his arms and soothed her with tender, loving words in Gaelic, stroking her back lightly for some minutes until he felt her relaxing against his chest.

She looked at him, mortified that he had seen and heard her having that nightmare. “I’m so-”

He stopped her with a finger on her lips. “Are they still common or was it caused by my aggression?” He thinned his lips and drew his ink-black brows low.

“Oh, Alistair, please, don’t do this to yourself.”

He grimaced, “You had a nightmare when Ethan hurt you.”

“No, the nightmares aren’t triggered by…” she paused, searching for a word, “moves toward me.” She sighed, “I used to have them every night. It’s getting better now.”

“Have you seen a doctor recently?” He looked at her, worried.

“I have therapy sessions twice a week. But, how can I talk about something I don’t remember? How can I work it out if I don’t know what goes on in my head when I dream? It’s unsettling. I feel…” she shivered and finished in a mumble, “damaged, incomplete, sick.”

“Oh, Beauty,” he whispered onto her hair, “you’re perfect. Just perfect.” He squeezed her in his strong arms.

“No. I am not. I was diagnosed with severe stress and mood disorders after,” she waved her hand briefly over her scarred arm. “My mood and my behavior changed. I had to take lots of drugs. Not so long ago, I had therapy sessions every day. Every day,” she sighed. “I still see a psychiatrist once a month. I know I’m nothing but imperfection personified.”

He curled his fingers under her chin and made her look at him, commanding, “I forbid you to say that again. You’ve gone through an unimaginable horror and survived it. You’re a wonderful mother, a strong and competent businesswoman, and an amazing lover. You’re beautiful, gentle, understanding. You have an indomitable spirit. You humble me with your character.” He shook his head at her and pressed a finger in the center of her lips. “I don’t want to hear that again. Ever. Understood?”

All the traits he recited made him acknowledge the failings in his own character, now even more noticeable to himself. And that made him more resolute to better himself for her. He clenched his jaw as he glanced at her body, black-and-blue marks all over her thighs and neck.

Alistair kissed the top of Sophia’s head and inhaled her scent. White roses, oranges, and vanilla. Fresh, innocent, and sweet. Goodness. “You smell so good, Sophia,” he whispered in her hair.

“Make love to me again. Hard and fast. I want to feel alive,” she asked, offering her lips to him. “Make me feel alive, Alistair.”

Sophia nearly screamed when he softly bit her lip. “It feels so good,” she gasped. She gripped his hair and demanded, “Hard and fast.”

He just smiled and lowered his head into a heart-stopping kiss and shifted over her body, kissing and licking his way down.

He pulled her lower body off the edge of the bed until her legs draped over his forearms. His hands held her buttocks as he knelt on the floor. He grinned savagely at her before his teeth nipped her clitoris. “Good?” he asked and his tongue delved deep into her body.

“Yes, oh, yes.” She rocked in his mouth as his licks drove her crazy with need.

“Fingers?” He traced her seam softly with his index finger, teasing, stroking her to a fever pitch.

“Ah! Yes, please,” she gasped. She couldn’t contain her moans anymore when he dived one finger deep into her body, rotating it. And then two. He made a low growling noise and lapped at her clitoris. Digging her nails into his scalp, Sophia struggled to keep her orgasm at bay.

“What else do you like?” he whispered.

She fisted his thick, silk hair, threading her fingers through it, holding him close. “Everything. Keep going,” she gasped as she approached climax. She tugged roughly on his hair, pulling him up onto her body. “Take me. Hard.”

Her words brought his gaze to her face. He stood, sheathed himself, and held up her legs to wrap them around his waist while he pressed his hips forward until the tip of his shaft pressed against her. “Tell me, who do you want?” he rasped.

“You, Alistair Connor, only you,” she promised.

“Hard and fast?” he asked.

“Yes. Now!” Her heels pressed down on his buttocks.

His hands cupped her bottom and his thumbs parted her. A groan rumbled low in his throat as he shoved hard in one thrust.

A throaty scream escaped Sophia as he burrowed himself until the hilt.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he gasped. Pulling out, he repeated the sharp movement.

“Ah,” Sophia screamed, “yes.” His rough plunges kept her on the edge between pleasure and pain.