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“Yes, I fucking traced it! Who the hell is Kathy Jackson, and why are you talking to a nurse who lives halfway across the country?”
“A friend of mine.” I lick my lips, trying not to be completely disturbed that he not only found me this quickly but already knew exactly who I was talking to and where she lives. “We went to school together.”
The drive is too short. If it had been longer, maybe Deklan would have calmed down, but he’s just as irate as he was when he first found me. He speeds the few blocks back to the apartment, running stop signs and slamming on the brakes with a squeal when he pulls into the garage. He gets out, marches around the car, and pulls me bodily from my seat. I let him drag me down the hall and into the apartment.
I’ve crossed a line. I didn’t know where the line was, but there is no doubt that I leapt right over it. As the door crashes closed behind me, I clear my mind and try to prepare for the worst.
What is the worst?
Deklan had said he wouldn’t lay a hand on me in anger, but I’ve heard similar promises from my father. There’s a point where control is lost, and all bets are off. My husband is furious, and I have no idea what he’s going to do. However, I do have a notion of what he’s capable of doing.
I remember the bloodied shirt, and my eyes burn.
Deklan grabs my face in his hands as he pushes me up against the wall near the door. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the blow to come, but instead of his fist, his lips crash against mine.
His tongue is in my mouth, probing with fierce determination. He groans as he presses his body against mine, pinning me against the wall. Confused, I reach up and wrap my fingers partway around his biceps and hold on as he violates my mouth without mercy.
He pulls away abruptly and glares down at me. His stare is still intense, but his eyes now hold desperation as well as anger.
“Do you have any idea what kind of shit went through my mind when I found you gone? I didn’t know if you’d been taken again or if you were hurt somewhere or if”—he takes a breath, sucking the air in through his teeth with a hiss—“or if you had just left me.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you.” My voice is tiny, and I feel a tear fall down my cheek.
Deklan closes his eyes and clenches his teeth. He takes one hand from my face and slams his palm against the wall beside my head, causing me to jump. His breaths are quick and heavy.
“All I could think was that I’d never…I’d never…” He clenches his teeth and looks away for a moment.
Deklan’s muscles flex under my hands as he scrapes his fingers over the wall by my head. Without warning, he grabs the top of my jeans and pulls, releasing the button and zipper in one swift movement. He yanks them down one of my legs, along with my panties as I hold my breath, afraid to move. One of my shoes falls off as he drags the leg of my jeans over my foot until my left leg is free. He doesn’t bother with the other side, just rights himself and opens his own pants, shoving them down his hips before he picks me up off the floor.
My back slams against the wall as he enters me in a single thrust.
I cry out in surprise, but Deklan says nothing. He just pulls back and starts pumping into me as fast as he possibly can. He has me immobilized against the wall, and I have to squeeze my arms out from between us to wrap them around his shoulders. He moves his hands to my thighs, holding them far apart as he drills into me.
The rhythmic thumps against the wall echo in my ears, and I wonder briefly if there is anyone out in the hallway. I claw at Deklan’s shirt and press my temple to his shoulder to keep my head from hitting the wall. He releases my legs, and I wrap them around his waist for balance as I pant against his skin.
I’m getting dizzy, my head swimming from the motion and the intensity. This is not what I was expecting, this dramatic display of want and need. I angered my husband and fully expected to be punished for what I had done, but I certainly wasn’t expecting this.
If this is Deklan’s idea of punishment, I’m not about to argue.
He’s quick and furious with his pace, driving deep as my lower back takes a hit against the wall with each penetration. All I can do is hold on, though he doesn’t need my help to keep me pinned exactly where I am. He grinds against me, and I moan loudly as he pulls back and crashes into me again.
I feel sweat collecting on the back of Deklan’s shirt as his rhythm continues with me thumping against the wall. He quickens his movement, driving into me with both passion and fury. I wrap my legs tightly around him, trying to get that last bit of pressure I need to send me over the edge.
Deklan stills suddenly, pressing me against the wall as he growls loudly through his teeth. I feel the warm flood of his orgasm deep inside of me as he grunts once more, his breath hot on my shoulder.
He keeps me there for a moment, stroking in and out a few more times as his breathing starts to slow. I keep holding on, afraid to let go, but also pressing up against him, still needing my own release.
“Don’t do that again.” Deklan slowly pulls out of me and lowers me back to my feet.
“I won’t,” I whisper. My clit is still throbbing, and my head is still reeling. My back hurts from the pounding he just gave me, but all I can think about is asking him to do it again. And again. And again.
He takes a step away, and the exposed parts of my body are instantly cold. I want to reach out to him and beg him to finish me off, but I don’t dare utter a word.
He turns around and starts doing up his pants as he walks into the kitchen and reaches up to one of the higher shelves. He pulls down a bottle of whiskey I hadn’t noticed before and pours a small amount into a shot glass. He downs it a second later.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Deklan mutters.
I’m not entirely sure if the question is rhetorical or not, but I decide to answer anyway.
