Unable to wait another minute, I undo Jack’s belt and rip open his fly. He jerks back and slides his finger away as I shove his boxers down and free his cock from its restraint.

    “Be gentle with me, Pen.”

    “Says the sadist.” I wrap my hand around his erection, squeeze him tight, rub my thumb over the bead of moisture at the tip. His cock throbs in my hand, huge and heavy, a promise of what is to come.

    His eyes darken with sensual pleasure. “Fuck, that feels good.”

    I hold his gaze as I stroke him. Seeing the desire in his eyes only makes the thought of sexing it up in the alley all the more appealing. “I like that you’re hard for me.”

    “I’m always fucking hard for you.” He rocks his hips, thrusting into my hand. “I wake up hard for you. I’m hard for you in the shower. And when I walked into the bar—” His breath hitches, and he lifts my leg, spreading me in front of him. Bracing myself against the wall, I hook my knee around his hip and rub the head of his cock through my soaking slit. He is hot, his soft skin a contrast to the hardness underneath.

    His hands tighten on my hips, digging into my flesh so hard my eyes water. “You keep that up,” he growls, “and this will be over before it begins.”

    “Please tell me you have protection.” I tilt my hips and rock against the length of his cock.

    Jack reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a condom. I stroke him hard, base to tip as he tears the package open, ripping a groan from his throat.

    “Touch yourself while I put it on.” His voice drops to a low, husky rasp. “Fingers on either side of your clit, but not on top.”

    After releasing him, I slide two fingers along either side of my swollen clit, spreading my wetness around, aching for the touch that will set me free. “You’re mean.”

    “Like you can’t believe.” He rolls the condom on and lifts my other leg, securing me against the wall. I wrap my legs around his hips, but before I can put my arms around his shoulders, he grabs my wrists and slams my hands up over my head. The rough brick scrapes my skin, but I can endure the pain.

    “Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me like you wanted to fuck me when I was dancing. Hurt me if you need to.”

    “Christ. Nothing as sexy as those words coming from your sweet lips.” He pushes in with one long, deep thrust that takes my breath away. A feral light burns in his eyes, and my world narrows to the filthy, dirty alley, the dark, dangerous man who sets me on fire, and the burning, almost-desperate need to come.

    With each wild pump of his hips, he slams me against the brick wall. I give myself over to the power of his thrusts, the delicious slide of his huge, hard cock inside me, the ferocity with which he seeks to claim me, the intensity of his gaze, and his strong arms holding me safe. This is Jack—the fighter, the man, the sadist—all in one.

    “Scream for me, darlin’.”

    My climax comes in a rush of white-hot heat. I scream into his shoulder to muffle the sound. I scream from the pleasure and the pain. But mostly, I scream because he needs to hear me scream.

    “Jesus Christ. Fuck. I’m gonna come.” He yanks me down, pushing in deep, and he climaxes with a low guttural groan.

    Finally, he stills, releases my hands. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him, and draws in a shuddering breath. “What the fuck do you do to me?” he murmurs. His cock pulses inside me, and I squeeze my inner muscles, delighted when he moans. I’ve never had sex outside before, never thought I would enjoy getting down and dirty in an alley, never been so aroused I already want more.

    “Hopefully the same thing you do to me.” I press a soft kiss to his cheek, and he pulls out, setting me on my feet as he rolls off the condom.

    I bend to pick up my purse and dismiss the idea of putting on my knickers when I feel how damp they are.

    Jack studies me as I rise, then spins me around. “I hurt you.” He runs a hand over the exposed skin on my back at the top of my dress. “You’re bleeding.”

    “Hopefully I’ll have some bruises on my hips, too.” I turn and smile. “Collateral damage from having sex with a sadist.”

    “You’re fucking bleeding, Pen.”

    I put a hand to his chest, feel his heart pound against his ribs. “It’s okay.”

    “It’s not okay.” He looks down, examines my wrists, which are also scraped and sore. “I lost control. That doesn’t happen in the club. Every mark I leave on my play partners is deliberate. I make sure it’s done in a safe and controlled way. But this—”

    “I’m not your play partner, Jack. I’m not your submissive. I’m just me. And I’m fine with a few cuts and bruises.”

    A pained expression crosses his face, and we stare at each other for what seems to be an eternity. I can’t even imagine what is going through his head, but the reminder that he sees other women at the club—plays with them—unsettles me. Although I’m pretty certain he hasn’t been back since Gerry made his threat about the cameras, I don’t really know. And I also don’t know if I could deal with him playing with women at the club if he’s sleeping with me. But what if I’m not enough for him? How can I ask him to give up what he needs when I know just how difficult it can be?

    “Come.” He clasps my hand. “I’ll take you home and look after those cuts.”

    “You don’t have to.”

    “Yes, I do. Not just because I’m the one who hurt you, but also so I won’t forget why we can never do this again.”

    “Jack.” I stumble after him as he stalks down the alley. “You’re overreacting.”

    “Fuck, Pen.” He stops suddenly and spins to face me. “Don’t you fucking understand? I got off on hurting you like that, on taking my kink out of the club. There are no rules outside the club, no limits, nothing to stop me from going too far.”