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She nodded frantically. “Deep.”

“This won’t be gentle,” he warned.

Her body shuddered with excitement. “Good.”

He’d done what he could to warn her. He hoped she wouldn’t forget or hate him later.

Fingers curling around her thigh, he slipped his hand over her cunt. “You’re wet. And swollen.”

“I’m aching. I’m dying.” She gripped the pillar, scratching at the plaster. “Fuck me…”

Jesus, he was a strong man, but his strength had limits. And she’d just shattered his.

He nudged her feet apart with his own, settled the throbbing head of his cock against her pussy, then rammed inside her in a series of rough, insistent strokes. Her head snapped back. She screamed out in pleasure, the sound blending with the piped-in music, the ecstasy in the air, and the drumbeat of his own need.

“More,” she demanded.

Nash gripped her hips. In a vague corner of his mind, he knew his fingertips would leave bruises, and some part of him wanted to see his marks on her tomorrow. Reveled in the knowledge that he would, in fact. So he gave her what she asked for, shoving his way deeper and deeper inside her until she rose on tiptoes and clung to the pillar, writhing back against his cock.

“Feel good?” he asked as he slipped a pair of fingers over her clit and rubbed in merciless circles.

“Yes…”

“Louder.”

“Yes!”

Her wail galvanized him—desire rushing, blood pumping, heart revving. He pounded inside her, savaging his way deep again and again. She made desperate sounds, inhuman sounds, twisting and heating under his body.

The hand not working between her legs sailed up her abdomen until he captured her breast. With a tug, he ripped at the front of her dress from neckline to waist. Her tits sprang free. With every thrust, they gave a satisfying bounce against his palm.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god!” she mewled, sending a hot glance with unfocused eyes over her shoulder.

Their stares met. Fused. Nash’s blood sizzled. He hadn’t had a drop of the spiked wine, but with Haisley he felt the crowd and every one of his inhibitions melt away. He strained to get closer to her, deeper inside her. To become one with her.

“You’re tightening on me.”

“I’m close.Soclose.”

He settled relentless fingertips over her hard clit and rubbed her rhythmically every time he drove inside her. “Come for me.”

She nodded feverishly. “Yes.”

“Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he growled out, aware that he was playing a very dangerous game.

He’d taken her not once, but twice without a shred of protection. He wasn’t gloved up now, and he knew damn well she wasn’t on the Pill. He had no idea where she was in her cycle…and he didn’t care.

She was his. She would always be his. If they could get the fuck off this island unscathed, he was going to put a ring on her finger. Then he’d put a baby in her belly—if he hadn’t already.

“Yes!” Her nails scraped the pillar again, plaster crumbling under her fingers. “Come inside me. I need to feel you. Please. Please…”

Nash had always known he was a little bent, but her sweetly begging him to impregnate her did something to the primal part of his brain. He didn’t know how she felt about that, but nothing was stopping the freight train of this orgasm. It brewed and tingled. His body went taut. A wave of euphoria had his head seemingly floating near the ceiling. And when her entire body locked up and shuddered as her pussy clamped down and pulsed on his cock?

He. Was. Done.

Destroyed.

Annihilated.