Nick pulled his finger out then pressed back in, only this time stretching her wider, demanding more.

“What’s that?”

“Easy,” he said. “Two fingers now.”

He kissed her back. Licked up her spine. She clenched on the two fingers. It still burned. No way could she take him there.

“Nick, I don’t think I can—”

“I know. Not today,” he said, reading her just fine. “We’re just going to play a little. Try and relax.”

“O-okay.”

The two fingers did strange things inside her ass, twisting and turning, stroking her in odd ways. The burn eased and gave way to pleasure. Some inexplicably sweet sensation stole through her. She had the worst feeling she actually liked it. Worse still, that he knew.

“That’s it,” he said.

Then the fingers were gone. Just when she’d gotten used to their presence they slipped free of her body and her rear felt strangely empty. More noises. Packaging being undone by the sound of it.

“Stay put,” he said.

More lube. She tried to tuck her butt in and escape it, but there was nowhere to go. He held her open, his big body situated between her spread legs. Something pressed against her anus again.

He hummed in satisfaction. “Press back against it, Ros. That’s it.”

“What is it?” she asked, her voice all breathy.

“It’s only a little one.”

“A little one what?”

A hand held her cheeks apart while the other fucked something into her. Not his fingers. Something else about the same size, at first. He pushed, then retreated, easing the foreign object inside her. It got bigger and her fingers dug into the mattress.

“Nick.”

“Nearly there. You’re doing really well.”

He turned it around a little, played with it. Whatever ‘it’ was.

The burn returned. Not quite pain but not really pleasure. A gray area in between that she wasn’t sure of. He stretched her opening wide, then in it went. The strain lessened. Her butt was not on fire. It was okay. But something was definitely inside her.

“Explain,” she barked out.

Instead, he turned it on. The fucking thing vibrated. Her ass was buzzing. What it did to her pussy was dreadful and wonderful all at once. Her mind blanked as her body took over.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he said.

She said the first thing that came into her poor, addled brain. “I’m going to kill you.”

He clucked his tongue.

Big hands lifted her hips and his cock nudged at the entrance to her sex. The poor, desperate, throbbing, needy thing that it was. All she could do was dig her fingers deeper and hold on.

She moaned as his cock surged into her. God, yes, she needed it, needed him inside her. The width of his cock felt close to overwhelming with that thing filling her rear. Still vibrating. Her whole pelvic region seemed aglow with it.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned.

She could feel the hairs on his thighs against the backs of her legs, the press of his pelvis against her butt. The slap of his balls when he thrust harder, picking up the pace. It seemed she was oversensitive to everything. Nothing escaped her but her mind reeled, unable to focus on any one thing. Again and again he thrust into her. Her traitorous body pushed back, takingly him joyfully, wanting everything he could give her.

Nick pounded into her. Together, they set a feverish pace. Nothing mattered but coming, climbing that peak as hard and fast as possible. She was mindless in her pursuit of it, so damn close that it was all she could feel. The heat and sensation built until it burst wide open inside her. She shook and shuddered and shouted into the pillow. Hands pulled her back onto him as he pushed as deep into her body as he could get and came too. Those hands and his cock were the only things holding her up. Then his cock slipped free of her. His hands lowered her back onto the mattress. He collapsed beside her.

Nothing but heavy breathing.

A hand fumbled over her ass and the thing stopped buzzing. Probably for the best. Carefully he pulled it out of her. Her body was too tired to react. Her mind had been defeated. Nick was master of them all. Damn him.

A wet cloth smoothed between her tender butt cheeks.

“You okay?” he asked.

She turned her head. It was easier to breathe without her face in the pillow. “No. I think you broke me.”

He lay beside her, dark eyes searching her face.

“That would account for the fuck-drunk smile,” he said.

She tried to frown at him. It didn’t work. “You’re a bad man.”

He smirked.

“You’re my bad man.”

“Mm. I’m going to do that to you every time I catch you daydreaming about threesomes with other men,” he informed her. “And the plugs will get bigger.”

Like hell they would. Best not to tell him that, though. He’d only see it as a challenge.

She stretched lazily as gradually some semblance of life returned to her sated body. “To be fair, Nicky, you were one of the men in my imaginary threesome.”

He gave her a skeptical look, his brow arched high. Of course, since she had bisected the other brow he could really only raise the one. Lucky it looked good on him.

“Hey, I don’t want any other men.”

“No?” he asked, shuffling over until they were close as they could be.

“Nope. I don’t suppose you’ve got a twin, though?”

His hand clapped down on her butt cheek. It stung.

“Ow. Sorry. I’m sorry. Just joking.”

“And you actually wonder why I abuse your ass,” he said, ever the gentleman. One of his hands rifled around in the dreaded backpack once more. “I picked up some other things for you today.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“I don’t know. Do you?” he asked and carefully put a funky-looking pair of reading glasses on her. “There we go. How are they?”

She blinked experimentally, peered around the room. “Good, I think. Thank you.”

“Wear them the next time we fuck. That would be thanking me.”

“Aww. You say the sweetest things.”

“Don’t I? There was also this.” He set a blue velvet jewelry case on his bare chest. A ring-sized one.

“Holy hell.” Her heart lurched at the sight. It was the strangest thing. After everything they’d been through, she was going to lose it over a piece of jewelry?

“I saw it in a shop in town. Thought you might like it, so I grabbed it.”

Carefully, she popped the case but left it sitting on top of him. Of all the things he could have picked up for her, right on out of any shop window now that alarms and money and all the rest were gone, he’d gotten her this. A circlet of seed pearls surrounded a small winking diamond in an antique rose gold setting. It was lovely. Heartbreakingly perfect.

“Okay. What does it mean?” she asked.

“Huh?” His face blanked.

“Nick, you can’t just give a girl a ring without it meaning something. You do know that?”

His forehead furrowed up.

“I mean, it has to say something.”

“What?” he asked. “Why?”

“Come on, Nick. The ring says something. Work with me here, please.”

He looked at the ring like it had suddenly sprouted poisonous tentacles. “I dunno. I just thought you’d like it.”

Honestly, he was such an idiot. He could probably spend an hour explaining the vibrating butt plug to her, but he couldn’t even string together a sentence about the ring. Her mind was officially blown.

“Come on,” she said, voice sounding more than a little aggravated. “Surely there was more thought behind this.”

“So you don’t like it?” His big hand closed around the case and he went to put it away. Like he wanted to die. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t you dare! That’s mine.” She clambered across him, straddling him and wrestling for custody of the ring. And not being gentle about it. “Give it.”

“Ros.” He wisely let go before her teeth could sink into his arm. “Shit. Calm down.”

With the ring case in hand she sat triumphant atop him. One cranky-faced man with a world full of attitude. His lips were a tight, unhappy line. Poor baby. Bad luck, he’d chosen her. Now he’d just have to live with it. She wouldn’t be letting him off the hook anytime soon.

“Alright, I will tell you what the beautiful ring says. Since you clearly find yourself incapable of manning up and dealing with the moment as you should.” Carefully she pulled it front its case and slipped it onto her ring finger. Perfect fit. She gave quiet thanks to the universe at large. “It says that I love you and you love me.”

Nick looked at her and sighed, his face relaxing. “Well, yeah.”

She allowed herself a small, satisfied grin. The ring really did look splendid on her finger. “Exactly.”

“That easy?” he asked.

“You thought that was easy? Hell, Nick. I’d hate to see your version of hard.” She kissed the end of his nose.

“There was some news from Blackstone,” he said, distracting her from pondering her ring’s magnificence. “Duncan’s been keeping an eye on the place.”

“What?”

“Someone killed Tom. Slit his throat.”

“Wow,” she said. Her good mood started to slip through her fingers. “That’s cold.”

“He did kill Lila.” Nick’s eyes were thoughtful. Stuff was happening deep inside his brain. She could feel it. Lila’s death had been so unnecessary, such a stupid waste. Ros hated thinking about it. Maybe if they’d moved faster she’d still be alive. Memories of that night had woken her panting and covered in sweat, more than once. The sounds of the zombies coming out of the dark, surrounding them, and the mindless hatred and fear from the people of Blackstone. Lila had been nothing more than an innocent bystander. The noise Sean had made when he’d lost her … Ros couldn’t forget it. Whoever had killed Tom, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it was entirely a bad thing. If that made her a bad person, well … the world wasn’t what it used to be.




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