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won’t play fair? See how I’ll touch you and tease you? See how I’ll fuck you into giving me what I want?”
    Her eyes flashed—indignation, perhaps, or maybe protest—but at that moment I squeezed her neck and ground my palm harder against her, and then a shuddering, buckling, slippery orgasm consumed everything in her. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened, a gasp for air that she could still get around my harsh grip but not without the illusion of struggle. And her sweet, wet cunt—I could feel it fluttering around my finger and all I wanted on this earth was to feel that fluttering on my tongue, one last time.
    And it was amid her final crest, her last stunned sigh, that the curtains swept abruptly open, revealing Hugh.

My eyes flew open at the noise of the curtain, and there was Hugh, looking furious and alarmed all at once. The last shreds of my orgasm peeled away from my core and wilted, like flower petals in the summer heat. My mind began to clear, registering shame and horror and oh my God, that was the best thing I’ve ever felt. Ever.
    Silas’s hand was still at my throat, the perfect amount of pressure to send adrenaline zinging through my system without actually threatening my ability to breathe. And his other hand was still gripping my sex. And part of me never wanted it to leave. Part of me wanted to spend the rest of my life being so possessively held by this man, because somehow his arrogant manner of touching me sent me soaring far higher than even the most passionate caresses from any other lover I’d ever had.
    The other part of me was simply furious. With myself , for having wanted Silas so much that I let him make me come. And with Silas, for being himself and yet not-himself, this new Silas that I had only glimpsed for the first time last year, and only then for a few days. This dominating, intimidating, rough Silas, who was more predator than gentleman.
    This predator who counted me among his prey.
    And Molly O’Flaherty is no one’s prey , I thought fiercely.
    I straightened to tell him this, to tell him that it didn’t matter how dirty he played the game, he’d still never win me, when he was yanked backwards and Hugh’s fist connected with his jaw.
    I realized how it must have looked to Hugh, me backed into a corner, my skirts at my waist and Silas’s hand around my neck. I suppose my gasps of pleasure could have looked like pain and the contortions of my face like a struggle—but still. No matter how well-intentioned his chivalry, it was unnecessary.
    “Hugh!” I came forward, my skirts still in disarray, my breathing rapid and shallow from the intense climax I’d just had. I grabbed Hugh’s arm before he could swing again. “Stop!”
    Hugh threw me a furious look. “Molly, he…he was touching you.”
    I cleared my throat and smoothed my skirts, making sure that when I spoke, my voice was cool and collected. “He was touching me with my permission, Hugh. Step away.”
    Silas, meanwhile, was standing back up and rubbing his jaw with a rueful expression, like he should have expected all along that something like this would happen. “I have to say, Hugh, when I contemplated the possibility of leaving here with a bruise on my face, I rather thought it would be from Molly. At least you don’t hit as hard.”
    Hugh practically snarled, lunging at Silas again. Silas easily dodged Hugh’s second swipe, an arrogant grin spreading across his face. Now that the two of them were standing, now that Hugh was trying to hit Silas and failing, I could see that Hugh had gotten lucky with his first punch. Silas was tall and quick, and without any malice or apparent anger, he parried a punch from Hugh as he stepped in behind him. And then—almost casually—he twisted his body so that Hugh went sprawling onto the floor, landing hard on his ass.
    And even though I still hated Silas, and even though I liked Hugh, I giggled, clapping a hand over my mouth when Hugh glared up at me. “I’m