He made her lose her head. Did something to the filters she’d kept in place so long to protect herself. Devastated every single defense until all that was left was the heart of her, exposed to him. She only hoped he didn’t use that against her.

She came then, in a deep, nearly painful rolling climax that left her muscles jumping at the end. Carmella loved the way he snarled a curse, the way he tried to resist but he couldn’t because she made him feel so good he had to come.

He sped his thrusts until he pressed in that last time and stayed for long moments until he finally flopped to the side, gasping for breath.

“It doesn’t matter if my fists hurt. I can’t feel anything below my neck anyway,” he mumbled and she kissed whatever part of him that was nearest, which turned out to be his forearm.

“You fought over me. Should I be embarrassed?”

He snorted. “Why? That guy was in desperate need of a beat down. What a disrespectful asshole. Sometimes the only lesson a loser like him gets is underlined with a fist. He’s the one who should be embarrassed. I’m just happy it was me who got to do it.”

He got out of bed to get rid of the condom and do a quick check of the locks. Naked as a jaybird.

Maybe getting his ass kicked would scare Clifton off for good. But Carmella was a realist. Chances were, he’d sniff around to see if Duke was still in the picture, but he’d try to use her again if he thought he could benefit.

“Uh-oh,” he said, returning to her side in bed. She snuggled down, pulling a sheet over them both. “I don’t want you feeling guilty over this, Carmella.”

“Well, I don’t. And that makes me feel guilty. I mean, you’ve seen all this from me. The mother, the father, the ex.” Carmella rolled to bury her face in the pillow, feeling the heat of her blush against the case.

“Do you think I’d hold you responsible for any of that? You have no choice who you’re born to. And you’re certainly not accountable for whatever other people do. I’m not him.”

She moved to her side to face him because she heard the emotion in his tone. “I know you aren’t. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

“Stop apologizing!” he said, frustrated.

Which sort of pissed her off. “Hey, I can apologize when I do something that needs an apology for. I’m fucked up but I’m not four years old.”

He raised one brow at her. “I don’t want you treating me like these leeches who screw you over. I’m not down with that. You don’t have to say you’re sorry for having feelings. Even if I don’t think those feelings are appropriate. Now I’m sorry for making you feel that way. But I don’t want you treating me like them.”

“What have I done to make you feel that?”

“Why do you care? That’s not a flip question, I’m serious. Why does it matter to you if my feelings got hurt?” he asked.

“I care about you.” She linked her fingers with his.

“You look like you’re fighting not to run out of the room.”

“I am.” Her smile wasn’t amused, though. “I’m not open like this. It’s uncomfortable sometimes.” She sat up, crisscross applesauce-style, and he sighed, putting a sheet over her before sitting across from her and doing the same.

“If I see you all pretty and sexy, it’s hard enough to concentrate, but with all my favorite, secret spots on display, I can’t focus at all.” He took her hand back. “Now, you were saying?”

“Like this thing right now. The way you respond just how I need you to. It’s … I don’t know what to do with it.”

He cocked his head as he thought.

Of course, now it was Carmella all caught up in his beauty. She’d just had her mouth all over him. That man had been inside her and not just in the physical sense. He went out of his way to make her life easier. Better.

“I think you should accept it as your due. Sometimes when we click like that—when you do the exact thing I needed, even if I didn’t know I needed it until right then—I take it as a reminder that I am one lucky dude. It’s cool for you to let go of that fear that I’ll shred you the way they do. You deserve to be adored. To be treated like a queen. Got me? Because you are a queen. Strong. Fierce. Beautiful. You are a fucking survivor, Carmella. Like a phoenix.”

Tears filled her gaze until she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

“See? I don’t want you crying when I tell you what you are to me. I want you to say, fuck yeah I am!”

“Fuck yeah I am.”

He nodded. “Not bad. Keep working in it.”

“They’re not sad tears. You say these things to me and they’re different because you’re different. I’m crying because I know that. And that’s terrifying and wonderful. And I really just don’t know how to do this so I’m messing up.”

He leaned in to kiss over each eyelid. “Now you’re making me all choked up. You’re a gift.”

Carmella sighed, deciding to let hope win over fear. “When I grew up, I was ashamed pretty much all the time. My mom was, well, she wasn’t like anyone else’s mom, that’s for sure. I had my aunt and uncle and my grandmother, and I’m so glad because they were a stable thing in an unstable world. But I kept a lot of secrets because if the school or my family knew how bad my mom got sometimes, they’d have taken me away. And she wouldn’t have had anyone.”