Snapdragon: Tiny Threads Part 27

I started to the door again, ready to just climb in bed and sleep off the deadly headache. I just reached the door and grappled with my keys when he slammed behind me, pinning me against the front door. My keys slid to the floor, and the breath rushed from my lungs with the force.

I could feel the rage, the hurt, the bruised pride, all of it.

"You wanna get f.u.c.ked, Jenna?"

I moaned beside myself when he grinded himself into my back and then pinned my arms up above my head.

"You think I'm not attracted to you?" He spat. "Does it feel like my c.o.c.k isn't interested in you?"

I wiggled against him, trying to get my arms out of his grasp, but it was useless. He was too strong.

"Why are you acting like this?"

I cringed. "I was mad. I went to take you dinner, and I saw her car at the work site. I wanted you, and I missed you and she was there."

He pushed himself harder against my back. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about? I wasn't there tonight. I was at my mom's with Benji. Lily got sick, so we went over there. You knew I was coming to get Benji."

That's what I thought, but then he was running late, and I had to leave Ben with the girls until he got there. I thought I'd surprise him instead of going out, and I lost my s.h.i.+t when I saw her car.

"I bought you orange chicken and her car was there," I whined.

He sighed and kissed the top of my head. "Are you listening to me, Jenna? I. Was. Not. There. Get it? Stubborn a.s.s woman."

"You weren't with her?" My voice shook. I felt so stupid. Tired. I was so tired of fighting, a.s.suming, and crying.

"No, you drunk fool. No."

He let go of my arms and spun me around so I was facing him. He looked tired, too, and my heart clenched. I'd been wrong. So wrong.

"But why was she there? Why does she call?"

The tears took over again, and I slumped against him. "Just stop, Jenna. d.a.m.n it, stop this."

He slapped the door above my head and then he kissed me, hard and unrelenting with everything he had. Every emotion, every part of him. He pushed his tongue between my lips and shoved his knee between my legs, and my insides clenched.

I grabbed his hair, fisting it angrily and bit down on his lip. It seemed to spur him on because the next thing I knew, he had me off the ground and grabbed my legs to wrap them around his waist.

I grabbed, scratched, and pawed at him as he tried to get inside the house with me clinging to him like my life depended on it. It'd been too long, and whether it was the alcohol or adrenaline or what, I was a maniac. I couldn't get enough.

Almost two months without him felt like a lifetime. I could tell he felt the same.

As we stumbled into the house, we both fell to the floor with a thud. Without breaking momentum, he held onto one hip and pushed his hand between the two of us, moving my skirt over my hips.

He slid his hand under my panties and quickly pressed two fingers inside me. I was already wet, and if I was honest, I had been since the moment he walked into the bar and carried me out like a thief in the night.

"G.o.d, yes," I cried. "More."

I bit down on his neck while he tore his pants down his legs with his free hand. He pumped his fingers inside of me a few more times, and then I felt him position himself to push inside.

He was frantic, and the sound that came from his chest was absolutely feral. I didn't recognize the desperation or l.u.s.t coming from him or myself, for that matter. It had taken on a life of its own as if our bodies were trying to pry away all the anger and put us back where we belonged.

I arched into him, crying out and begging for him to take me harder and faster.. I couldn't take it. I ached everywhere. It was primal, the cry of my body for his. I wanted him to consume me, climb inside me and ease the emptiness in my heart and body.

Every thrust and every touch told me he was out to prove something. He was telling me with his body what his words had been telling me for months. He did want me.

He flipped us so that I was on top and grabbed my hips. "Ride me, Jenna."

He moved, so his hands palmed my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and then pulled the tank top down to expose my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He drew a nipple into his mouth and sucked and then bit. The slap of our bodies, the sounds of him sucking and my panting filled the room with a thick undercurrent of l.u.s.t.

This was f.u.c.king. Pure, raw, f.u.c.king. It was angry and frantic, and I was too drunk to care why it was happening.

My coordination left a lot to be desired, and each move I made was sloppy and disconnected, but somehow he knew how to straighten us up. His body knew mine-two parts of one, the halves of a whole. No matter how mad we were, our bodies knew we were a unit, and without one, the other couldn't survive.

I stared down at him and his eyes darkened, knowing exactly what I needed. He grabbed my hips, held me steady, and drove into me over and over again.

The sounds we made continued to get louder and louder the harder we went at each other. The grunts, screams, curses, the wet slap of skin on skin, the raw need we had for each other, was overwhelming. This was a whole new level of makeup s.e.x.

We were rebuilding a broken palace, a life we'd demolished into soot and rubble. We'd destroyed everything we stood for, everything we believed in, and everything we loved.

We spit on love, on respect and loyalty, and threw each other to the wolves to deal with the crisis alone. We hurt our children-our prized possessions-and we'd failed them. We were unrecognizable. We were no longer the couple that beat the odds. We were becoming a statistic. Cracked, fractured and split into two pieces.

We weren't us anymore.

"Royal," I cried.

Softly, he brushed his hand over my cheek, slick with sweat and tears. "You don't get to leave me, cookie. You're mine. Forever. You said forever."

I cried harder. Cradling my back, he pushed off the floor, lifted me into his arms and slammed me up against the wall. My buzz was gone, and out of that cloud everything was clear.

"Does this feel like it's over, baby? Answer me!" he roared, entering me again.

"No," I cried.

"That's not what I want to hear, cookie. If I have to f.u.c.k it out of you, I will. Tell me." He bit down on my shoulder and I shattered, tightening around him like a vice.

He growled and pivoted his hips before slamming upwards again and again.

I knew what he wanted to hear, but I was scared. Terrified to say those words that would make it all go away.

He abruptly pulled out, lifted me by the waist and carried me up the stairs to our room. It was no easy feat-I was basically dead weight, but he held me tight and slung me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and took the stairs two at a time.

He swung the door open, causing it to slam and bounce off the wall, and kicked it shut with his foot. He walked toward the bed but stopped in front of the dresser, turning us so we could see our reflection in the mirror.

He stood in front of it, pulled me down in front of him and held me with one hand around my waist and the other above my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The way we looked standing there, half dressed and s.h.i.+mmering with s.e.x and sweat, it was magnificent.

"This is us, Jenna. This. Me and you-how could you think I'd want anything but this?"

My breath hitched, and I started to shake my head. It was all too much.

"You're my life. Everything I need and everything I want I'm holding in my arms. Because of you, Jenna. Because of you I have love. I have a home. I have my children. Without you, I have nothing."

My chin quivered, and tears slid down my cheek.

"I love you. I need us, Jenna."

"I love you so much," I whimpered.

You could feel the tension fall away from both of us like a bag of rocks. Hard and fast it fell to the floor, ridding us both of the turmoil and doubt.

"Don't you look away. Watch the way I love you, Jenna. Watch me and remember."

His eyes on mine through the mirror, he leaned me over the dresser and entered me from behind.

He started slow with long, deep thrusts, his chest against my back. He kept his arm around my waist to hold me and held my face with the other.

"I don't want you to miss one second, not one feeling, not one expression. This is all of me, Jenna. You're meant for me, through thick and thin, until death does us part. I'm not letting you give up on me."

I watched the two of us in awe, lips parted and eyes hooded. He slipped his hand down to rub my c.l.i.t, and I fell apart. Every single nerve in my body was on fire. I never wanted it to end.

"Never doubt me, cookie. Never. I f.u.c.king love you."

I could tell he was close to losing it, his breath harsh and warm against my neck. His eyes stayed steadily on me as he grabbed onto my hips and slammed into me one last time, releasing everything-his love, pain, anger, and frustration as he fell apart.

We were both out of breath, and I leaned my face against the cool wood of the dresser while he kissed my shoulders. I was euphoric, lost in so much emotional overload I could barely think.

"Are you okay?"

"G.o.d yes," I groaned. "f.u.c.king A."

He chuckled and squeezed me tight. "Come on, baby. Let's get you on the bed."

I looked like a mess-I should've been horrified by what I saw in the mirror. Hair in a rat's nest, mascara running, lipstick smeared, and my clothes hanging off me, but he didn't mention any of it. I could see he was holding back laughter, but at least he wasn't rubbing it in.

"Do you need anything before we fall asleep?" he asked, brus.h.i.+ng a hand over my hair.

"No," I groaned.

Once my head hit the pillow, all I could think about was sleep, and lots of it. The next morning would be h.e.l.l, but at that moment, I just wanted to bask in the warmth of his arms.

Chapter 19.

I woke up to the sun beating against my face, soft pillows under my head, and a killer hangover. I rolled over and reached for Royal, but he was already out of bed. I groaned and pushed my head back into the pillow.

For a minute, I panicked, afraid of what the day held for us after the night before. Even though it hadn't been the reunion I'd been looking forward to, it had turned out so much better.

The very best makeup s.e.x we'd ever had.

Scratch that-best s.e.x we'd ever had, period.

Royal unleashed a side of himself I hadn't seen for a long time.

I heard voices in the hallway and realized it was the girls talking to Royal. Even though they were whispering, it sounded like jackhammers in my head.

A few moments later, I heard him come back in the room, and I decided to play possum. I wanted a few more seconds to bask in the afterglow. The mattress dipped, and I felt his hand on my hip.

"Wake up, birthday girl," he whispered.

I groaned. "Oh G.o.d, I'm dying."

"You sure don't know how to hold your liquor, woman."

I threw my arm over my eyes. "Don't ever let me drink again." I turned over and smiled. "You're here."

"I'm not leaving."

"I don't want you to. I can't live that way anymore."

He kissed the tip of my nose and then leaned back to grab a bottle of water and a few tablets from the side table. "Me either."

I took the water and the pills quietly. The night before was a bit hazy, but I remembered enough to know that the love was still there. Everything else was up in the air.

"I know we need to talk, but it's your birthday, so let's just have a nice day and talk tonight after dinner."

"Kay," I said, tired and dazed.

We laid there for a little over a half hour just holding each other. There was no talking-just the two of us, quiet and content. A little while later, a knock at the door interrupted the peace. I wrapped the blanket closer around me since I was still naked from the night before.

"Come in."

I looked up at Royal and laughed. The kids never knocked-unless it was locked, and that was rare.

The girls walked in, Skylar with a tray in her hands, Macy with the Sunday paper, and Laney with a bundle of flowers. "Happy Birthday, Mommy."

"My girls are so good to me. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I hope you're in the mood for pancakes and bacon," Laney said, smiling at Royal.

I grabbed a slice of bacon and popped it in my mouth. "Gosh, this looks so good." I looked over at Royal and back at the girls. "Did you make some for Daddy, or do I have to share?"

"We did, but his is downstairs." Skylar smiled at me sheepishly and shrugged.