His lips press themselves firmly against her pulse point, his gleeful chortle echoing as the hot water rains down on them. Arms keep her against him, holding her as his gaze flutters over the new tattoo she dons where he insists upon kissing. "Don't be too angry with me, my dear! I'm only doing what I think is best for our marriage!"
She had been trying to grant herself a moment of peace, ALONE, but he had followed behind closely, like fire nipping at her heels, threatening to consume her whole from the inside out. Her shirt was already being wrenched off, tugged over her head unceremoniously and cast aside to the tile floor of the bathroom. She saw his shadow stretch across the floorboards of the hallway, and in some act of defiance she kicked the door closed, letting it shake on its hinges and rattle the doorframe like a dying breath against old bones. There were no locks in that place, but it felt nice to be belligerent – UNTAMED. Hands gripped the chipped edges of the counter, her body slumped forward like it was all she could do to hold herself up. She didn’t want to cast her gaze to the mirror ( NO. NO. NO. ) and have to confront the damage done. Bliss swam lazy circles around the inside of her head. She could see it in her own eyes, the cloudy dizziness that glazed them over and made them dance. It had been the only way he’d kept her still long enough to press needles to her flesh. C. V. Her fingers jumped to the ink now staining the side of her neck, lips parting in near shock. DISTRESS. Whatever twisted little game he was playing, she had wanted no part in it ! By the time he had opened the door, she had stripped, and he was given no sort of cursory glance. Like he was merely some ghost that she was able to stare right through. She wanted to curse at him, HISS, claw and bite, but pursue her he did. ( RESOLVE BROKE & PRIDE FELL FAST ) It should have made her sick with how familiar his skin felt against her own, how warm he was, how close he held her like he had the right. His chest to her back, his lips to her throat, his hands around her middle ; all him / only him. Was it only ever him ? Nails harpoon themselves into his wrists as though to punish him for his crimes. He had STOLEN her. She draws blood, like the vicious creature she’s always been, but she doesn’t push him away. Oh, she’s furious, that much is clear by her lips pulling back in a snarl, but the same teeth that threaten to tear him apart piece by piece are kept at bay when she returns his damning kisses.
