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have offered me his protection, even if I hadn’t offered him my body.
    From the beginning, there was more to it than just escaping Wolf. Jackson was a man who could protect me from anyone, but even if I didn’t need protection, I’d have wanted him. He had a power over me. It sounds strange to say it, but I wanted to belong to him so completely that no other man would be able to dream of taking me from him. It was an animal attraction that defied logic.
    And I was so glad I had my back to him when he took me. And fuck, did he take me. He took me like a herd of stampeding, wild horses. I didn’t want him to see my face. I didn’t want him to know who I was. I wanted to hide. I was afraid he’d see the truth. The truth that I wanted him just as passionately as he wanted me. The truth that the more he took, the more he claimed, the deeper I belonged to him. I’d wanted Jackson since the second he first walked into the Los Lobos bar. Now that I was finally his, it felt like God had answered all my prayers. Whether or not we got away from Los Lobos didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that I was his.
    He thrust himself so forcefully into me I thought he’d tear me apart, and I liked it. All I wanted was for him to fuck me harder.
    The moment of his orgasm was cosmic. You ever watch those documentaries where they show how the universe was created, the big bang, the explosion that created everything? That’s what Jackson’s orgasm was for me.
    I swear, I felt his cock explode in a spasm of ecstasy. I felt it fill the condom with a terrifying force. It made me want to cry to feel it. I wanted the condom to burst. I wanted his semen in my womb.
    And then, after he came, he flipped me over so I was facing him. He was still hungry for me. I could feel the throbbing girth of his shaft against my thigh.
    “Whatever you want,” I said. “Do whatever you want to me. I’m yours now, Jackson.”
    He leaned over and looked deeply into my eyes. God, he was handsome. He had the chiseled face of a classical statue. Love had never been part of my plan, but suddenly, I wanted him to kiss me. He pulled off my dress and bra. I was naked before his eyes, my body literally vibrating with anticipation.
    I tilted my head back and opened my mouth. I don’t know why. I was acting on raw instinct.
    He met my lips and slid his delicious tongue into my mouth. I moaned in pleasure. I meant it when I said I was his. To this day, I’ve never kissed another man the way he kissed me that night. He brought chills to my skin.
    I still wake up sweating, dreaming of that kiss.
    From my mouth, his lips moved over my neck, caressing my clavicle, sliding over my ripe nipples.
    “Your body is like something I dreamt,” he whispered, then he closed his lips on my nipple and sucked.
    I arched my back.
    His mouth kept going down, over my navel, over the bones of my hips, and finally to the tender, pink folds of my clit.
    When he sucked, something within me responded to him. He was my master. He had complete possession of me. One flick of his tongue, one glance of his piercing eyes, and the pleasure deep inside me fought for release.
    I cried out, “Jackson.”
    We’d scarcely spent an hour with each other, but already I felt like he’d known me my entire life.
    “Suck me,” I moaned, and even as I said it, I felt terrified he’d taste himself on my pussy.
    His mouth sucked my clit and the sensation was overwhelming. Tendrils of pleasure shot into my body. There was nothing I could do to escape. I was going to climax, right there, his face so deep in my pussy there was nowhere to hide.
    I threw my legs around his head and clenched. He sucked, his tongue flicking my clit ceaselessly, his hands gripping my ass, holding me in place. I couldn’t bear it.
    I convulsed, the shock of orgasm hitting me like a freight train. I screamed. The pleasure rushed through me like a Nevada flash-flood.
    “Jackson,” I screamed, and even as the orgasm