My entire body was cold besides the burning in my eyes.

“Your brother was . . .” I couldn’t say the rest, but I didn’t need to.

“Da.”

“And you had to . . .” Watch?

“Da.”

Oh, God. I was going to be sick. How could a mother do that to her own child? The idea of how unloved and scared Ronan and his brother must have felt tore at my heart.

After a moment of silence, Ronan pulled back to see the tears rolling down my cheeks.

“Fuck,” he cursed softly. “I told you, nothing happened to me.”

I shook my head because the fact he could see it that way and be so indifferent to it told me he’d been through things nobody should ever have to go through.

A tear ran over my lips. He licked it away and then kissed me, slow and steady, until I found the will to return it. The stress faded beneath the press of his mouth, a kernel of warmth growing.

He ended the kiss. “Your turn.”

What?

Oh, right. His questions.

“Um . . . two,” I said unsteadily. “Two have touched me . . . that way.”

He made a rough noise. “Dvoye mertvetsov.” Two dead men.

I frowned. “I’m not going to tell you stuff if you’re going to kill people because of it.” Odd I needed to make that clear . . . but that was where I was.

His eyes darkened. “Was one of them Ivan?”

“No.”

The look in his gaze cooled. “Fine. They can live.”

“How noble of you,” I returned drily.

“Keep going.”

After a moment of thought, I said, “Five men have kissed me. When I’m not being held captive, I wash my hair with Pacifica. And it takes me three hundred and eighty-eight licks to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.”

He laughed at the fact I knew the answer to that question. “Fuck.”

That single word said nothing and everything at once.

“Is your curiosity satisfied now?” I questioned.

His eyes grew heated, then he released his grip on my wrists and ran a thumb across my lips.

“Nyet.”

His touch burned and swelled heat inside me. My breath grew shallow. My chest burned. I was at the bottom of a pool, curly hair floating and aglow. And I no longer cared if I drowned.

“Will you fuck me now?” I asked.

He nipped my throat and growled, “Da.”

D’yavol may have stolen my breath.

But I gave him my heart.

Sweat ran rivulets down my back, my long hair was damp and stuck to my skin, and my muscles embodied jelly, moldable and pliant as Ronan put me through every sexual position known to mankind. We would have gone through three condoms by now—if we were using them at least. Not that I didn’t try to encourage it.

“Wait,” I’d breathed nearly two hours ago before Ronan pushed inside of me. “Condom.”

“You have an IUD.”

“Condoms are for more than birth control.”

“I’ve already been inside you bare. If I have something, you do too.”

“That’s comforting.”

He chuckled roughly. “I’m clean, kotyonok.” Then he filled me so perfectly my eyes rolled back, and my brain shut down.

Now, I was on my back with my legs over his shoulders while he fucked me so hard I’d feel him next week. My moans trembled with every thrust, my nails digging into his thick thighs. He was less human and more like D’yavol when he fucked. He seemed to have a never-ending stamina and a criminal sort of purpose, as if he was taking something he shouldn’t but relishing every moment of it.

He slowed his pace and rasped, “What are we on?”

Releasing a tortured groan, I tossed my head on the mattress. “No . . . I can’t. Not again.”

He pushed my legs off his shoulders, came down on top of me, and nipped my neck. “I think you can.”

With a sigh, I turned my head to give him more access. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

I felt his smile. “Right now, I’m getting paid to fuck you.”

“Like a salary sort of situation?”

He chuckled. “Da.”

The sound of his laugh did such heavy things to my chest, I turned my head and caught his lips with mine. He groaned into my mouth and fucked me slowly. My fingers traveled down his back, infatuated with the feel of him. I didn’t think I’d ever get enough—no matter how much I touched him or how close he was.

“What are we on, kotyonok?” he asked against my lips.

“Four,” I answered reluctantly. He’d made me count every orgasm he gave me, and I knew I wouldn’t survive another. “I’m a virgin. I can’t handle any more.”

“You’re no longer a virgin. I had the proof of that all over my cock.”

Who said romance was dead?

He sucked my bottom lip and released it with a graze of teeth. “You denied me this pussy for weeks. I’ve got time to make up for.”

“I’m too young to die,” I groaned. “I’m only twenty.”

He stilled, then a darkly amused gaze met mine. “Fuck. I forgot how old you are. I really don’t need the reminder right now.”

“Does it bother you?” I asked, my nails running down the length of his back.

His eyes dropped to half-mast. “Not enough.” He punctuated the statement with a deep thrust that made me groan. A rough palm found my breast and squeezed.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, sighing when he sucked a nipple in his mouth. It was so easy to forget everything with him inside me. But I wanted to be more than just another woman in his bed. I wanted to know him inside and out. Because he was so much more than a single shade of black or white.

“Were you so gray at twenty?” I asked. The words shouldn’t make sense—wouldn’t make sense to anyone else—but it only took Ronan a couple of seconds to understand my meaning.

“Nyet.”

I shivered at the darkness and truth in his voice. If he were twenty now, things would have gone very, very differently for me. I’d never had a problem with his age, but now I appreciated his experience even more.

His mouth traveled down my neck, leaving a hot, wet trail behind, while he leisurely fucked me as if he had all week to do so.

I tried to blink through the haze of pleasure. “Were you in prison then?”

“No. I was released when I was eighteen.”

“When did you go in?”

“Fourteen.”

“What could you have done at fourteen?” I asked, aghast.

He smiled against my throat. “I cut off a politician’s cock and shoved it down his throat.”

I swallowed. I really shouldn’t have asked that question. My body should be primed and ready to run for the hills after his answer. But I already knew Ronan wasn’t Prince Charming. I somehow also knew the man he killed had deserved it and probably more.

Bracing his hands on either side of me, he pushed up so he could see my eyes. “What? No comment about my blackened soul?”

I held eye contact for a moment before saying softly, “No.”

He didn’t look happy with my answer. “You really shouldn’t be letting me fuck you.”