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“Cade!” I scream, nearly passing out from the pain.
Still, I haven’t used my safe word. I want, no, I need Kincaid to know what he means to me. That it’s him that I love and need. And the only way I can do that is by communicating that I trust him.
Implicitly.
I trust him with my life.
Though he’s hurt and his actions are fucked up, he won’t truly hurt me. Right now, he’s taking out this aggressive behavior on me because dark sex is the only way he can express his pain.
“Girl, you’re my kryptonite. You fucking make me weak for you,” he groans as his movements slow.
Tears fall from my face burning a ragged trail down to my lips as his words tear a hole in my soul.
“All I wanted was you...do you know how much I care for you,” he whispers against my ear as his strokes grow deep and strong.
He takes his time as though cherishing me, making love to me.
“I’m...sorry, Cade,” I hiccup on a cry. “So, sorry. Never meant to hurt you,” I cry.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” he says.
As he moves up and down deep inside me, my arms clench to his back, and my legs tighten around his ass.
“All I ever wanted to do was cherish you, Nia,” he says.
The tears are coming even harder now. His body tenses, and I feel the release of his dick giving away to what it most needs inside of me.
Despite the aggression, disrespectful words, and hurt I feel inside when he slows down, his hands caress me, and his kisses are soothing. He murmurs words of affirmation in my ear, and I cum.
We lay this way for a while. When he turns his head as my phone buzzes on the nightstand beside us, I feel the moisture on his face and see the black, wet fringed eyelashes, and I know that I wasn’t the only one crying.
Kincaid is a sensitive soul, despite the sexual beast within him.
“It’s your husband,” he grunts as he climbs off me.
“What time is it?” I ask, looking out of the window into the darkened night.
“Almost nine,” he says gruffly.
“Shit, I need to get home. Nicky’s gonna be suspicious. My blouse! It’s ruined!”
“Go shower. I’ll have one delivered from the boutique next door while you’re showering.”
“Aren’t they closed?” I ask.
“I know the owner. They’re still there...doing paperwork before leaving for the night.”
“Okay,” I say, rushing to the bathroom. “You don’t mind?”
“Go!”
I shower and wash the semen out of my hair. Sadness takes over me as I realize we never got a chance to talk. It’s okay. If I don’t have time now, there’s always tomorrow. We’ll make plans before I leave.
But I step out of the shower and into the empty suite. There’s a dress lying on the bed that must have come from the boutique. I walk through the suite calling his name.
Frowning, I return to the bedroom and the dress on the bed. Only when I pick it up do I see the note lying underneath.
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