Hungry kisses rained between them, lips locking in vehement desperation until the passion started to inevitably steam up several notches too high. Insatiable in their quest, their mouths explored each other with a familiarity which was as scary as exhilarating. It seemed like their instincts recognized what their stubborn hearts were deliberately denying.

Dev felt his iron-clad control slip through his hand when she touched him on his chest, the imprint of her palm affecting him like a burning furnace would. Groaning in iniquitous delight, he resisted the urge to rip her nightdress apart – a feeling which had ingrained itself in his mind ever since he'd seen the sexy black number on her. Like a gawky teenager, he fumbled inside needing the feel of her soft skin, and nearly howled when the straps fell from her shoulders granting him copious access.

A frenzied excitement caught up with him, like a teenage jubilation awaiting his most precious gift, something he'd never experienced with any woman. Sex for him had been a clinical procedure to satisfy his basic need, and he had never relished lovemaking as much as he was doing now. It felt like his senses were heightened to an extreme pinnacle, rendering him out of control, blood pumping into his heart at a drastic rate.

His entire focus shifted on the woman opposite him; like he was sampling the most refined wine, her taste as addictive as the alcohol, her scent enveloping him in a sense of haziness which he struggled to fight. He was still debating with himself whether to stop when she flicked her tongue on his left nipple and his mind blanked out with sheer desire.

Seized with a sense of utter lust, he bent to swallow one creamy luscious breast in his mouth, enjoying the taste like a ripe fruit ready for his harvest, rolling the mound with his tongue with utmost piety. When it was drenched with his saliva, he moved to the other one lavishing it with the same undivided attention, loving the way it felt on his tongue. By the time he was finished, she was wriggling under him, squirming with unbridled passion as her eyes shone like bright jewels in the dark.

An unusual prick of conscience attacked him, his subconscious registering that they were indulging into something forbidden, but also knowing that it was inevitable. Even then, he wanted to act like a gentleman, so he took a deep breath to wait for the could in his mind to dissipate and moved a few inches away from her.

"Open your eyes Ana," he commanded gently, feeling a fierce hunger gripped him as he focused on her beautiful face, the angular shape making it appear smaller as it seemed to be filled with trepidation.

In slow damning suspense, she obliged and his heart nearly tripped when he read the facsimile of the intense passion reflecting in her blue chips. He gulped. He wanted her to be sure. The unspoken question hung between them as their eyes devoured each other, the tension so thick that he felt he would give in under the pressure. Then, almost as if she was afraid to break the spell, her lips moved in an incoherent murmur, her voice barely above a whisper and he caught her moan his name plaintively, the want unmistakable.

"Deeev."

It felt like the answer to his prayers.

His restraint snapped, his mind blanked until the only thing trotting in his mind was the loud thud of blood pumping all over his body.

With desperate urgency, his lips found hers again and their tongues mated perfectly together, his hand played with her nipple once again until she simmered in a hiss. I know, he wanted to say but could not utter a word as his mouth went automatically to her breasts, leashing on the feast that was offered to him, until he felt he would burst under the pressure.

Her skimpy nightdress had ridden upwards, the only barrier between them was the thin layer of their underwear which somehow was removed without him recalling how. When his naked skin came onto direct contact with hers, the heat emanated brought a ferocious growl out of him, and with a wild gesture he ripped off his trunks to feel her sizzling warmth there.

In blinding passion, he rubbed his hard-on against her core, feeling moisture pooling around his shaft, the essence she was stemming even more invigorating. Arriving at a point of no return, his hands fumbled downwards until he found her triangle which he parted with trembling fingers. Another almost visceral roar escaped him when he encountered so much liquid that his middle finger glided smoothly against her clit.

Her tortured sobs boosted his confidence, and slowly with ecstatic delight, he found a rhythm with his middle finger, and when he bent to capture her right breast in his mouth, she squirmed under him in haywire gestures. With strenuous slowness, he inserted one finger sleekly inside, enjoying the exquisite sticky exploration. Moans and hisses of pleasure generated from her, rendering him horny as hell, and he felt his groin swell until the hardness became unbearable. But he wasn't done with her yet.

In a swift rough gesture, he removed his fingers from hers, and managed a grim smile when she protested loudly, eyes spluttering open with consternation. Without hurry, with his eyes locked into hers, he deliberately drove his face down her body making his intention crystal clear, the moment electric. For a moment, her eyes flared with reaction, fear and panic obvious in the blue pools which stared back with apprehension.

There was no need for words; they would only act as a blasphemy in that sacred moment. With the message irrefutable in his eyes, he stopped only when he was inches above her sweet treasure, her scent rendering him crazy. Without breaking eye contact, he took his first taste of her, and her pupils dilated instantaneously when she collapsed against the pillow, her willowy legs dropping from his back like they were suddenly made of lead.

Instinctively, she parted her legs wide apart and he surged forward for the feast, his tongue circling her apex of pleasure, until she screamed and arched her body so tightly upwards that it might snap. Still, he relentlessly explored her with his tongue, lapping on her until he felt her tensed body vault up, before collapsing into violent spasms of her release.

Her final whimper of pleasure was a mixture of pure unadulterated lustful gratification, which touched the core of his manhood. A savage reaction raked through him as he straddled her hips but when his erection found her entrance, he stopped inches above the effort making him tremble, his chest heaving with the effort as he inhaled deeply for a moment of reprieve.

There would be no going back after that.

In reaction to his momentary withdrawal, she hooked her legs around his waist to bring him closer and a shudder rippled through him as he drove himself into her moist heat in one deep thrust. Only to come to an abrupt halt when he encountered the barrier of her virginity. Stunned, he searched her face for any indication of hesitation, but her flushed state of arousal was a glorious picture to beheld.

For the love of what he held precious in life, he found that he did not possess the courage to stop. Not when he was so far gone. His erection had never felt so strained, like it would explode anytime, the effort he was making not to bury himself in her heat so excruciating that it was reflecting physically with perspiration beading his forehead.

Still, he had to ask.

"Ana, are you sure?" he queried gently, his voice hoarse with the physical effort, one lock of hair having dislodged from his usually immaculate coiffure to hang on his sweaty forehead. Ragged short breaths escaped his mouth, as he waited for her answer, a period which seemed like an eternity leaving the air hanging in suspense.

"Please don't stop," she finally begged quaveringly, her expression so vulnerable that he instinctively bent down to soothe her worry with a searing kiss.

It was too late to stop anyway. Shoving back the last altruist thought at the far end of his conscience, he gradually entered her until he was deep inside, staying immobile waiting for the discomfort flagrant on her face to subside. With utmost care, he supported the weight of his body with his forearms, making sure to move his hips gradually until he built a slow rhythm to which she grew accustomed. At first, he took entire control as she clung to him, the insecurity reflecting in her hesitation evident. As the pace began to increase, moans of pleasure escaped her, her initial inhibition clearly shredded. Then, he felt a pressure as her legs pressed against his waist, her body arching towards him to meet his movements and he intensified the tempo.

In one violent shove, he finally reached the pinnacle of his pleasure and at the same time she convulsed under him into another long series of shuddering paroxysms. With a fierce roar, he withdrew just in time to spill his seeds on her stomach, anger seizing him at the stupidity of their act as sanity resumed almost instantly. What if she fell pregnant? What would happen to that tiny life stuck between two parents who hated each other?

That realization spun him in action and he rolled over, away from her uncaring of the mess he was causing to the sheets. "Explain," he barked in an autocratic voice, exasperation making his voice several octaves too harsh.

What fueled his wrath was the fact that he had no idea why he felt so ... raw. Almost like a dirty adult who had just exploited an innocent child. Worse. He had the feeling that he had been extremely unfair to Ana, treating her with almost obscenity when she deserved the exact opposite. Because he'd spent a lifetime thinking the worst of her, making his hatred and disdain apparent. How could she have tolerated him? He felt his skin crawl with disgust, his body rejecting the person he'd become.

Resting his head in his hands to block an impending headache, he tried to stop the influx of queries threatening to swamp him. But the speculations formed anyway. How the hell could she be still a virgin? Her profession was about displaying her body overtly for Heaven's sake, her obscene photos splashed on every tabloid were living proof of her wild lifestyle. Hell, he had her portfolio with him as evidence in his luggage right now, something he'd consulted minutes before meeting her at her apartment.

Besides, who the hell wasted such a precious gift on a creep like him? He swallowed back the bile threatening to spill from his mouth, as his guilty conscience fought to be assuaged. Why? How? When? Was it a trap? Had she deliberately ensnared him knowing that he wouldn't be able to resist that once last masterstroke from her? Even as the idea formed in his pessimist mind, his heart vehemently rejected it.

Ana was nothing like he'd believed. Ana was in fact the only ray of sunshine in his cloudy life. And how had he treated her in return? Like a sleazy one night-stand in a cheap hotel? In pure mortification, he recalled the spiteful words he'd just spoken to her in brash anger, the way he'd always mocked her thinking he knew better when she was just being herself. How had he ended like that?

Lost in his debilitating thoughts, he missed the movements across the room, and when he finally lifted his head from his defeated position, it was to belatedly note that Ana was no longer in the room. Muttering a string of curses, he instinctively dialed her number and howled in fury when her phone rang in the room itself. Where the hell was she going at three in the morning in her state of undress? What if something happened to her?

Heart leaping in his throat at the depressive thought, he flung his mobile on the bed, grabbing his tracksuit and a shirt to run after her.

Trepidation filled him when he found the hotel lobby vacant, and he hurried towards the exit, his head scanning the area with an almost blinding despair. Something thick and uncomfortable had lodged permanently against his throat, and no matter how much he swallowed, it just wouldn't budge. Regretting his earlier outburst, he decided that he should try calming his anger down before having a one-to-one with her next time.

What occurred next, however, knocked the breath out of his body, shock rendering him immobile as he stared at the rumpled coat heap lying on the street with a sense of foreboding. Horrified, he stumbled forward like a robot, as memories of his mother's dead body swamped him causing nauseatic feeling to assault him. No, no, no. Not again. Not his Ana too.

Spurted into action, he ran towards to the lifeless body to turn it over, horrified to find her covered with blood. "Ana!" he cried in raked breaths. "Ana, no! Please don't do this. No!" he tried shaking her gently but she did not respond to him.

Trying to keep his calm, he battled the dark memories invading him, luring him into the familiar oblivion. If he lost control, he would find himself back in his mother's apartment seventeen years ago when he'd been so traumatized that he'd suffered mental depression. Maybe it was what he deserved in the end? To be left lonely in his grief, never really be satisfied with what he'd achieved, always having that void in the place of his heart. Was that what he wanted for himself?

"Ana, c... can you hear me?" he stammered with almost desperate supplication. "Ana, please. Please look at me. Ana!!! Ana!!!"

No matter how he pleaded, she remained lifeless in his arms, her angelic peaceful expression mocking him for his despotic behavior. Regret consumed him, until he felt his head going blank, oblivion threatening to swallow him in a familiar abyss.

Not now! His Ana needed him to be strong. Vaguely, he registered someone calling emergency services while he remained crunched on his fours, powerless to react in case he aggravated her case. With trembling hands, he fingered through her hair gently, feeling for any lump but came up with no result. Blood oozed down her legs, and he gulped down the fear that there might be internal bleeding – he would not know the gravity of her situation until the experts arrived.

There was no sign of the one responsible for the hit, the owner of the vehicle must have taken flight like a coward. After what seemed like an eternity, the sounds of siren resonated around the locality, with the arrival of the paramedics and he dimly gathered being hauled away. Unresisting, he let himself be taken away from the sight, and protested only when they informed him of driving her to the nearest healthcare while he gave his testimony.

Hours later, when he rushed to the hospital he was duly informed by the doctor in charge that Ana's condition was not serious, that she had suffered from a contusion with no internal injury. Staggering with relief, he was finally able to think again, but the only decadent memory his mind repeatedly played was that of her limp body lying in the middle of the road.

It was all his fault. Had he not reacted so callously by the fact that she had been untouched before him, she would never have fled from him. But the truth was the reality had stumped him into... Into what? Into turning into a monster? Was that his excuse? Treating her like she was someone casual when she was anything but? Sleeping with the only woman who'd ever truly loved him when he knew there was no future for them? When he knew that when the deal was over, he would leave her once again without blinking an eye, the recidivism inevitable.

"What about her legs?" he queried worriedly, ignoring his sordid thoughts. "Is she going to recover?"

His relief was palpable when the doctor announced that apart from some occasional joint pain in her knees, he could foresee no permanent damage. For the time being, she needed intense remission, and within a week she will be fully recovered.

As an afterthought, he eventually asked whether she will be scarred, worried that she might blame him for ruining her career, assuming that models were very particular about their physical appearances.

At long last when he was finally reassured, he closed his eyes in exhaustion, his headache rebounding with vengeance. Millions of thoughts washed over him, so much that he felt submerged under the pressure bone-weary of the amalgam of emotions engulfing him. The sight of her lifeless body was imprinted in his mind, overwriting the ever-present depiction of his dead mother.

In one jerk, his eyes popped open as the stark realization hit him with full force: he loved her! How could he possibly explain the profound anguish which had caught up with him when he'd imagined her dead otherwise? Even now, with all his courageous talk about being only concerned with the deal, he knew deep down that if ever he managed to walk out on her again, he would leave a major chunk of him behind.

Love? He'd thought himself immune to that disease, having only lost the people he'd cared about his life, he'd vowed to himself that he would never permit emotions to blind him. That was why he'd never wavered from his mission five years ago, the consideration for his fiancée not even a hurdle to have stopped him.

Would he change now? Would he hesitate to leave her when the moment presented itself? Where would he go anyway? He was doomed for an unhappy life, or so he's always thought. The idea of having Ana in his life was so tempting that he could literally feel the need in his veins. It gnawed at him, at his soul until he had to dig his nails in his palms to restore a modicum of serenity.

When a nurse announced that Miss Anastasia was asking for him, a bout of panic seized him as for the first time in his life, he found himself in a quandary. The dissection of the status quo was devastating; he could not accept a Forrester in his life considering their cataclysmic interrelated connection. Ana was unfortunately collateral damage.

Consequently, what could he conceivably tell her to diffuse the awkward situation? That he was a sick bastard who had screwed her but had no intention of starting a relationship with her because of their mingled past? That he was in love with her but could never look at her without replaying his mother's horrible death? Wasn't it too late for retribution anyway? He would have sounded more credible to himself had he not taken her virginity only to act so cacophonously afterwards. Ana would probably not even want to hear his excuses.

Heart heavy with atonement, he sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of her, the spectacle of her injured state causing him a crunching pain. Looking haggard, she leaned against the hospital bed with her eye bags having a purplish hue, her usually fair complexion looked sallow with her lips parched to the extent of skin peeling off. Yet, even in her disheveled state, she still purported that angelic reflection, which he'd always thought to be fake.

Now, with hindsight, as he perused her face properly, he could not help admiring her for having kept her chastity and integrity intact despite having endured the worst kind of wounds by her fiancé. Dear God, what kind of monster did that make him?

With appalling consternation, the awful truth dawned on him: he was breaking her. Stuck with his characteristic flair to annihilate, his presence in her life was completely destroying her, or whatever good that might happen to her. For he had managed to destroy every person he'd loved. First his own mother, then his father. And now his Ana.

"Dev," she greeted feebly.

Silently, he sat down beside her, taking her small hand in his, gently pressing it for reassurance his quiet promise that he was present for support. The regret he was feeling must have been deeply etched on his face which was confirmed by her next words.

"Don't blame yourself for what happened. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Besides, considering our history, I thought why not you?"

Swallowing painfully at the pain her words were causing him, he could only manage a demure nod, considering that the nurse had asked him not to overtire her in her predicament. "It was only sex," she mumbled weakly, closing her eyes like she was weary with something as menial as speech.

"Have some rest," he murmured gently, bending over to drop a smooth kiss on her forehead, closing his eyes in agony as her warmth englobed his senses, the recent admission opening voids he'd thought forever inaccessible.

As she sagged under the quilt exhaustion overcoming her, he took a moment to give free reign to his love, admiring both her beauty and personality, a combination which was rare as much as precious. Were her words mere pretense or had she meant them? Had it only been sex for her, an unimpressive experience at the last moment when he's lost all his bearings or was she trying to deny her actual feelings under false bravado? How was it possible for her to feel nothing for him? Having discovered that authenticity of her persona, he doubted she was being true to herself.

For him, it had been the most fulfilling experience, although he always prided himself of being a connoisseur in women, love-making with Ana had a stumbling effect on his soul. To discover that she had not shared such an intimacy with any other man before him had aroused a frightening feeling deep inside a chunk of him which he'd long ago thought dead. That was probably the reason why he'd acted like such a dick – the revelation had caught up with him only after he'd found her nearly dead on the streets.

Why did fate have to be so cruel? Why had he fallen in love with the only woman who was forbidden to him? Inexorably, they'd become star-crossed lovers, and he would keep his distance precisely because he wanted her too damned much.

Irrespective of her words of assurance, Dev felt like a heel as he watched her pretty face devoid of any trace of blood, as white as the hospital bedsheet, the protruding scars of her wounds a cruel reminder of his atrocious behavior. An age-old bitterness filled him, and as he gazed at her beloved face, a new determination took life within him. At that heart-wrenching moment, he vowed fiercely to himself that he would bring a certain positivity in her life, a silver lining in her dark existence.

The least he could do now was bring the two lost sisters together, which would of course not atone for his deeds, but would at least ensure that Ana had someone in her life when their sordid deal would be over.