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Sex before her was a means to an end, a flash of pleasure to make me forget.

But sex with her…no words can describe it.

Transcendent.

Catharsis.

More. Much more.

“Mine,” I rasp into her ear, and she stills under me. I’ve shocked her and myself.

“You’re mine, Olive. And I’m never letting you go.”Not until I have to.

I take her, over and over, cleaning her up only to dirty her up again. Loving her with my body, until we both fall, exhausted and spent, into bed.

And when I pull her into my arms, the mattress squeaking underneath us, she sighs in contentment and snuggles into my hold.

For the first time in a very long time, I fall into a deep, quiet sleep.

The nightmares don’t come.

Chapter Thirty-Four

I wake up toa cool breeze grazing my skin.

Then I feel him.

Rex’s muscular arm drapes across my waist, one hand resting over my breast, his leg tucked over mine.

He’s a cuddler.

I don’t know why, but the thought makes me smile.

Soft, even breaths puff against my head, the intoxicating smell of sex and his cologne in the air. Then I remember the events of last night.

I had sex with Rex Anderson. Not once, not twice, but three times. After he took me against the carpet, he carried me to the shower, where he then fucked me against the tiled wall. My cries—sounds I didn’t know I could make—and his grunts reverberated in the small space. Then when he slid into the small full-sized bed with me. He spooned me from the back, but not before inserting his hard cock inside me and making slow, sweet love to me.

“One more orgasm so you’ll have good dreams,” he said right before ecstasy washed over my body in tremors.

He whispered, “Mine,” repeatedly before he groaned long and low, his cock throbbing as he unloaded his hot cum inside me.

I broke all my rules. Trampled my ethics like castles built of sand.

He’s high profile, a public figure, a known womanizer, and has the press breathing down his neck.

We were in public—anyone could’ve seen us making out by the fire last night, or they could’ve seen him holding my hand, dragging me into a nondescript motel. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what we were up to.

Holy shit.

My pulse races, a knot forming inside my chest, even as a smile tugs on my lips. It’s strange, having this collision of emotions—fear of being discovered mixing with guilt after making a bad choice—the worst choice, really.

But also happiness and excitement. Despite everything, it feels…right.

Butterflies swarm inside my stomach, and my heart skips several beats.

Then I slowly deflate.

While I’m discovering the new me, I do know one thing—I’m not a temporary plaything. My heart is already too tangled up, and if I continue, I’ll only get hurt in the end.