He had been all but silent since arriving at the cottage and she continued to watch him with worried dark eyes. Whatever had taken him away this time had left an impression on his heart, even as it had stolen the words from him. She had pushed, but only gently, testing the waters and had been met with a silence she didn’t understand.
He always talked to her, always shared what was on his heart with her, but something this time was different. She always knew what was in his heart, but now it was closed off to her own. That fact hurt terribly and caused a knot to form in the pit of her stomach. Had she done something? She didn’t see how as she had not been assigned with him, but his closed off emotions caused her imagination to race in very dark directions.
She had always been the one to pull away before they were married. She had shut herself off to him after she had been raped, not wanting him to feel the depths of her pain, wanting to protect him. Was that what he was doing now? Protecting her? From what he had seen or from himself?
There had been a deep well of smoldering anger that he had kept in the darkest recesses of his heart for years. It had taken root with McArthur, and the violence David had rained down on her had caused it to fertilize. William Grady had then taken hold of it later and it had briefly grown out of control. Now, it was more subdued, but always there, his temper quick to show itself to anyone that meant her harm, even unintentionally. He loved her with a tender fierceness that often left her breathless, unable to think beyond his touch and the gentle intensity with which he made love to her. If angels could grow addicted to anything, Andrew would be her drug. She craved him constantly, craved that precious union with which they joined time and time again and left her hungry for more. But tonight she felt almost afraid to approach him.
She spent the evening in anxious turmoil, trying to leave him to deal with whatever was on his heart as she wandered aimlessly from room to room. He had refused dinner with only a small shake of his head and had remained in the chair nearest to the window, staring, almost vacantly out onto the lake. She would watch him for a moment, her emotions welling up in her throat, threatening to choke her before she would turn away. She had never felt so afraid.
The thought that something had changed him, that something was taking him away from her forever played in her mind like her worst nightmare. He had never shut her out of his heart before and the emptiness she felt in her own at the absence of his emotions was overtaking her.
At nearly midnight she walked up the steps to their bedroom, trying to calm her panic, her breath coming in short gasps. This was how he had felt. This was how he had felt after Grady had raped her. The fear was nearly debilitating as she tried to tell herself that nothing had changed. He still loved her as much as he ever had. Something had shaken him, that was all.
But he hadn’t touched her. He hadn’t made a move to kiss her, to tell her he loved her. He always did those things. Something had changed. She changed into her nightgown, fingers trembling as she blinked back tears. She slipped bonelessly into bed, but her eyes refused to close. He was so close but yet she couldn’t touch him, couldn’t love him the way she wanted to with her heart, her soul, her hands, her mouth.
She pulled their quilt up over her shoulder, feeling a tear slide down her face, praying that when she awoke, whatever had come between them would be gone.
She awoke with a start to his hand on her shoulder, rolling her over onto her back and her breath caught. There was still a storm in his green eyes and when he captured her lips in a bruising kiss she had to force back a sob. She responded desperately as his tongue probed into her mouth, his hands on either side of her pillow as he lingered above her, delving, exploring, tasting. By the time he relented, she was gasping for breath, a million questions floating through her mind, but none of them mattered as his lips returned and he was dominating her mouth once more. Her hands moved to his shoulders, feeling the tension in them, as well as the strength. Feeling him capture her lower lip, she caught her breath once more, but he immediately stole it once more as his fingers grew impatient with the delicate buttons on her nightgown and he moved, straddling her body tear them away. Her heart raced as the buttons popped, granting him access to her breasts as he descended upon them with his mouth, sucking gently, then harder as her cries of passion filled the room. He would never hurt her, she knew this in her heart, knew it to be as true as any words of God she had ever spoken, and she surrendered to his need.
His hands kneaded roughly into her flesh as his mouth surrounded her nipple, his teeth raking over it, causing another cry to escape her as her slender fingers entwined in his hair, pressing him closer, following him as he moved to her other breast, sucking at the nipple until it was erect and hard and still never releasing it from his grasp. She was nearly insane with his intensity, her earlier fear forgotten. He loved her, he was loving her, she belonged to him.
He entered her more forcefully than he ever had before, thrusting his entire length into her slick walls and she rose up from the pillow to wrap her arms around his neck, immediately meeting his strokes as she moved her hips hard against him. Grinding, sweating, moaning, aware of nothing else other than him as their bodies moved together with a heated intensity unlike never before. Her body was ready to let go, but she struggled to not be completed too soon. She wanted to climax with him, the precious joy of perfect unity and as she felt the first shudders of his body, she threw her head back, tightening up against him, gripping him inside of her as he released all that he was.
He didn’t move for a moment, and she could see the beaded sweat on his brow before he slipped from her and rolled away. Her breath caught in her throat, catching a glimpse of the far away look in his eyes and she breathed out a sob.
He blinked at the sound, his trance seemingly broken and his eyes filled with sorrow and regret as he caught her up in his strong arms, holding onto her tightly. The relief flooded through her in the way of tears as she buried her face against his chest, shoulders trembling and he spoke for the first time since he had arrived.
"My sweet, precious angel, "He whispered, his voice nearly trembling with emotion, "I’m sorry…I’m sorry…"
Fear gripped her heart once more, "Andrew…please…don’t go…please don’t go…"
His eyes widened, realizing what he had done, the fear he had instilled, "Go? Monica, no….no, baby," He pulled away enough to look into her tear filled eyes, "Why would you even think…"
Her dark eyes searched his, seeking reassurance, "You shut me out…you’ve never done that before…then you were apologizing…I thought-."
"Sweetheart, no…" He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, one hand swiping at her tears, "I was sorry for what just happened. I can’t explain…I just needed you so badly."
"The way you love me is never wrong," She whispered, eyes still pooling with tears, "What happened? Why did you close off your heart to me?"
He shook his head, "Angel, I can’t…"
"Are you protecting me?"
"Yes."
"Let me share it with you," She was pleading, needing and wanting to help him shoulder the burden.
"Not this, angel. I can’t share this…"
Her hand moved to his cheek, "I want to know what took you so far away from me. I’ve never been so afraid. I’ve never not felt you in my heart before. I don’t want you to be afraid for me."
"But I am," His voice was a whisper.
"For better or for worse, Andrew. Please don’t shut me out of the things that are hard," She kissed him softly, causing an ache in his heart, "I won’t break, I promise."
His eyes crinkled around the edges as he traced her delicate features with his fingertips as he tried to reign in his emotions. The tears in his eyes caused her to catch his hand in her own and to kiss his fingers lovingly and he forced himself to speak, his voice barely audible, "I had to take a young woman home tonight. I was with her in the horrible minutes before she died…was with her while...while she was brutally…raped. Then he slit her throat…" He blinked to clear his eyes, "I kept thinking about you…realizing how…the way things turned out…that it could have been you. I couldn’t do anything to stop it…just like I couldn’t stop it from happening to you."
Monica held his gaze, but refrained from speaking as he continued, "All this time, and I’ve only ever been able to imagine what happened to you, but tonight, I saw it and it broke my heart. Then I came back here and made love to you like that…"
She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, her heart swelling with love for him, "You did nothing wrong. I could feel how badly you needed me and I needed you just as desperately. I always do, Andrew. It doesn’t matter if you are gentle, or intense like you were tonight. I can always feel how much you love me, so please don’t feel badly," She pulled back and grinned at him, "Actually, I kinda liked it," Hearing the chuckle she had been going for, she continued gently, "I’m sorry about what you saw tonight. I wish you could have been spared that, but please know that I’m better now and so much of that is because of you."
Andrew’s hand moved to her face, stroking her soft skin tenderly, "I love you so much, baby. You have no idea…sometimes the way I feel about you, it consumes me and washes over me in a way that at that moment, I can’t even function…"
"I understand exactly how you feel," His wife replied, his feelings mirrored in her eyes. She moved her hand down his chest and over his stomach before gripping him in her hand, feeling him instantly respond, as a little grin flitted across her face, "No trouble functioning right now, however."
"Imp," He laughed, kissing her tenderly, before groaning against her lips as she stroked him slowly and purposefully.
Her eyes were smoldering with passion once more as she kissed softly up to his ear before whispering, "Make love to me, Andrew…please?"
She didn’t even have to ask. Her hand moving up and down against him had ignited his fire once more as he kissed her lips gently, the kiss deepening slowly this time as his hand ran down her side to rest on her hip. He was sure she was all he ever needed. Being with her, holding her hand, loving her body, touching her soul. He would never want for more.
Andrew kissed down her body slowly, swirling his tongue over her nipples, watching through passion filled eyes as she arched into his mouth. He loved that he could drive her so high, so quickly and the combination of passion and innocence with which she made love touched his heart each and every time. Her hand had fallen away from him and he moved down her body, covering her stomach with featherlike kisses, lapping at her belly button as he continued to fondle her breasts.
Moving lower still, his tongue found the sensitive little button and ran over it lightly, as she kept up a steady monologue of sounds and words of love. Settling between her thighs, he lapped at her hungrily, running his tongue up and down her soft, wet folds as she writhed beneath him. He probed into her core, hearing the cries that were now escaping her as he felt her start to tighten, he stopped and looked up at her.
"No, baby," He whispered, a hint of mischief in his eyes, "Not yet."
His words alone nearly sent her over the edge but she struggled to contain herself, feeling the familiar and delicious fluttering in her stomach. Feeling her relax again, his tongue moved against her once more, slowly at first, then faster, swirling around her little nub before plunging inside once more, loving the sweet taste of her. He was painfully hard at her arousal, but he managed to relax, intent on driving her higher than he ever had before.
"Andrew…" Monica was gasping, convinced she could no longer hold back, "Please…"
"No," Came the soft order once more and a whimper escaped her. Taking two fingers, he placed them at her entrance and inserted them slowly, curving them up to hit the sensitive nerve. Looking up at her, he could see the tears streaming from her eyes and her fingers clutching at the quilt. Her entire body was tensed and ready, but she still struggled to obey his request, "Soon, angel," He soothed, before working his fingers once more as he placed his tongue lightly against her nub, lapping around it, as her cries filled the room.
Unable to wait any longer, Andrew pulled himself up and entered her slowly, before thrusting into her more forcefully as he leaned forward and whispered into her ear, "Now, baby. Let go, angel."
With his name on her lips, her body arched. She was so tight around him as she climaxed more intensely than he had ever felt before, that he followed immediately after, stroking into her slowly as he was completed.
The tears were still falling and her body still shuddering as he moved to kiss her lips, then her forehead, calming her through the aftershocks, even as he still moved within her to draw out every sensation from her. Even moving slowly, he felt her tighten against him once more as she tumbled more gently, before pulling him close to her as she caught her breath.
"I love you, my precious angel," He whispered against her ear, "Don’t you ever doubt that."
"No," Monica uttered, her small hands running over his shoulders, "I won’t…not ever."