February 3nd, 1996. Later that day.

​

He breathed in her scent. The sweet note of lilac bolstered his courage and freed him of the sedative, urging his adrenaline to pump harder. “They’re not shooting a renowned doctor. The state doesn’t want that lawsuit.”

 

Her laugh was hollow. “So you did use me. This was the plan. Somehow you figured getting me here would be your best chance at escape.”

He pulled her closer and they inch another step backward. “This is a conversation for later.”

 

“Cox.” Mrs.Hyde aimed her gun upward. “I’m putting my weapon down.” She held one hand up and hunched to set his piece on the floor. She then ordered the other officer to do the same. “We’re not doing this here, or anywhere else. If you release Dr. Evans, then we’ll all forget this happened. It’s not as if you can be prosecuted any more heavily than you already have been.” 

He smirked. “That’s not a very good argument, detective.”

Her brow furrowed as she realized his point. “But you don’t really want to hurt your doctor, do you? She’s been the only one in your corner.”

He gained another two steps toward the elevator. “Again, not a good counter strike. She fed me to the wolves. Or did you miss her fascinating testimony?”

“Cox, don’t—don’t take another step…,” she warned.

 

He heard the elevated pitch in his voice; he knew he had lost this round. He tugged Marlena toward the wall, using it to shield their right so he could focus on the officers to their left in the adjacent hallway as they eased toward the elevator threshold.

 

“Push the button,” he told her. She did, and when the doors slid open, he jerked her inside. “See you at the bottom,” he said to Hyde before the doors closed.

 

He hit the Lobby button, then counted down the seconds. At ten, he pushed in the Stop button. The cart jerked to a halt.

 

“What are you doing?”

“Trust me,” he said, and oh, the beautiful look of pure hatred on Marlena’s face heated his blood. She was breathtaking.

“We’re not a team,” she grated. “I diagnosed you as delusional in open court. God, I was right.”

“I know. It was brilliant, by the way.” he stuffed the gun behind his back and lifted a section of the cart ceiling, sliding it back. “You should feel proud of that—the way you callously led the jury to kill without remorse. They have you to thank for not losing any sleep over it. Took less than two hours to convict me.”

 

He stepped onto the bar and hoisted himself through the ceiling.

“I did not—”

“You did. You can stop lying.” he looked down at her. “Give me your purse.” He extended his hand. Her eyebrows pushed together in confusion. “Now, Marlena. Give me the damn thing.”

She cursed and handed it over and he torn to shred the black leash...

“Tie this around the red button.”

She did. “You said you don’t want to harm me. Are you letting me go?”

He showed her the gun. “Don’t lose that sharp brain of yours just yet. Give me your hand.” He pulled her onto the top of the elevator, and they were seconds from finding out if this plan will work. He guided her toward the ladder on the side of the shaft and then sealed himself around her.

 

He pulled the leash. The elevator jolted and propelled downward, continuing its journey to the lobby. 

“Climb,” he ordered.

 They reached the roof of the hospital. Once he had Marlena out of the shaft, he disposed of the gun. She anxiously stared at where he hid the weapon behind a skylight.

 

“I never liked them,” he said. “No art in shooting someone.”

Her feet moved backward. “I’m leaving now, Ethan.”

He looked up into the darkening sky. “What time is it?” When she didn’t respond, he grabbed her arm and wrenched off the thousand-dollar watch John gave her for Christmas a few years ago when they thought he was Roman. 

He flipped on the radio he took from the cop, gauging how close the search was to them. “You have less than one minute to make your choice,” he told her. “In ten minutes, they’ll have downtown secured and blocked off. Then we have twenty minutes to make it out of the state. So you get one of those minutes. Decide.”

She pushed her hands through her hair. “You’re giving me a choice?”

“I give everyone a choice. You’ve been making choices since the first day we met.” he offered her his hand. “You can go back, try to insert yourself back into your life of lies, or you can come with me and find out how far the rabbit hole goes to get your answers.”

 

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

He breathed hard. “You can. You can do anything you want, and I promise, I will let you go.”

She released a manic laugh. “This is fucking crazy. You’re crazy!”

“Is that your professional opinion, doctor?”

Stare cast over the horizon, she shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

 

“Even if it means discovering the truth?” he said, and her gaze nailed him. “The absolute certainty of uncovering everything Stefano kept from you?”

 

It was there in her pensive eyes, the longing, the desire to unmask that which terrified her. Curiosity alone wasn’t enough, this is the promise of her story. 

Her. her. her. It fed her vanity.

She secured her skirt. “They’re going to put you to death. And I swear to God, Ethan…I will be there to watch.”

 

She took his hand. He closed his fingers around her palm, feeling the beveled scar. “I hope you will be.”

 

But not before they end this.

He pulled her behind him as he took off toward the edge of the building. The sounds of helicopter blades chopping the air hovered near. He let her go down the fire exit first. “Don’t look at the ground,” he instructed. She cursed the whole way down the side of the building, but she made it.

 

Police sirens bounced against the cement and brick, the hospital nearly barricaded. He grabbed her arm and led her to the thick brush of trees and bushes where they halted before the freeway.

“We have a minute to make it to the bridge before the dogs pick up our trail.” he looked down both lanes, gauging traffic. The darkness will give them some cover, but not for long.

 

“Why are you doing this…?” she asked aloud, but it was not intentionally directed at him. He palmed her face. “You know why—you know why you’re here. To demand the answers he kept from you.”

 

A tear slipped free, and she blinked away the wetness. She was not crying; her adrenaline was running high. Good.

 

“We’re leaving, Marlena. Now.”

The race to the bridge was their biggest challenge. They left the sounds of the search behind as they crossed the highway. Cars stop in the middle of the street, horns blare. Thirty seconds to go.

He pick up the pace once they were on the median. Her gasps of pain stung his ears. He felt her pain for her, and he would take it if he could. The destination was in sight. Another five seconds and they were thet. “Stop.”

 

She doubled over to catch her breath. “We’re in the wide open!”

He looked over the side of the bridge. “We’re going down.”

 Her eyes widen, and she shook her head. “No. I’m not dying for you—”

 

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back against him. She kicked and fought as he eased up against the cement railing. “You already made your choice.”

He took her with him over the edge.

 

The creek water hit them with an icy fist. A rock tore into his shoulder. He aimed for the deepest part of the river, but it was still a shallow pool.

“Oh, my god!” She sputtered and wiped at her face. “I hate you.”

He circled his arms around her and haul her close. “You act as if you’ve never swam in a creek, doctor.”

Her fists beat at his arms, splashing water. “This is madness—”

 

He turned her toward him, taking her face into his hands so he could stare into her hazel eyes. “This is so much more than madness. This is what obsession does to a person.” He swallowed hard. “Believe me, I have tried every way to get you out of my system, out of my head… I can’t. I’m only trying to make sense of the nonsense. We’re connected, and we belong together. I’m already a dead man. So if I die in pursuit to obtain the unattainable…then that’s a death I can honor.”

 

She blinked through the droplets of water, her gaze flicked over his features. “You’re doing this because you believe you can what…have me?” She shook her head against his grasp. “Jesus, Ethan. That’s insane. And impossible. You’re confused and sick.”

“Then we’ll be sick together.”

He pushed off the floor of the creek to stand, bringing Marlena with him. “Stay on the bank. Track through the water. Dogs can’t scent us in the water.”

 

She was managing, but he could sense her lethargy. She was fading fast. As soon as her adrenaline wore off, she’ll be in too much agony to continue. He just had to get them outside of downtown. Then he could take over for her.

 

She was his salvation.

 

February 3nd, 1996. Nighttime.

 

She failed.

 

“This isn’t what I wanted.”

 

“It’s what you need,” he said. “You’ve been screaming into the void, demanding your answer, and the void heard you. This is predestined.”

“You are absolutely, fucking psychotic,” she said.

 

They turned off from the highway with the car he stole. After a few miles, the car bumped along a dirt road, and her anxiety grew. She tried to free herself of the handcuffs he put on her once they sat in the car, but too soon they were pulling into a darkened driveway.

 

He put the car in Park. “We’re here.” He looked at her then.

She ducked her head to see past the visor. Wooded scenery engulfs them. And in the middle of the dense trees, a large, contemporary-style house graced the night skyline.

 

If he’d brought her to a house, then no one knows it existed. Most of her patients had furtive locations. Second homes. Trailers. Storage units. It was their kill spot. Their secret place to take their victims.

 

Panic iced her veins. Real panic. As the reality of her situation sunk in. Ethan had taken her to his kill spot.

What has she done?

 

Her breathing labored as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Remember during our session when I told you how much I enjoy puzzles. There’s just something satisfying about putting the pieces together. I’ve been putting them together my whole life, searching for the one to end my suffering. You were a puzzle, Marlena. And once the puzzle presented itself, I couldn’t not put the pieces together. You created an unknown variable in my life that I had to decipher. You were the key.”

“The key to what?”

 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved in close to unlock the handcuffs.

“The key to what, Ethan? God, do you know how insane you sound? I never would’ve diagnosed you as delusional, but you’re making me question my integrity as a psychiatrist.”

He held her wrists together. Her skin stung, his tight grasp a pulsing pressure locked around her arms. He ate the distance between them, his face so close to hers she held her breath.

 

“You forget I’ve tasted you,” he said, his words a hot whisper against her lips. “I’ve been inside you. I’ve felt your desperation and your longing. The pain you carry isn’t physical. You’re dying for the punishment you never got, but know you deserve.”

She blinked hard. Her heart constricted in her chest. “I want to leave. Now. Right now, Ethan. Let me go.”

 

He rested his palm on her cheek. “God, you’re beautiful.” Then his lips taste hers. Slow and tentative at first, he kissed her deeply, and she welcomed it. Their movements became frenzied as she put every emotion into the kiss, begging him. When he broke away, she said again, “Please, release me.”

 

He licked his lips as his gaze dragged over her face. “Not happening, doc. You’ve been a very, very bad girl.”

He pulled her across the console. Her bare feet kicked at the door as she struggle against him. Her screams tore into the night. As he hauls her out of the car, the only sound was her frantic pleas cracking against the pines. 

 

February 3nd, 1996, 2 am.

 

Light flickered against her eyelids. The cool press of a damp cloth against her face pulled her from the shadows. Her lids were heavy, like she’d slept too long, suffering a morbid hangover. When she was able to pry her eyes open, Ethan was close. She flinched away. In the dim lighting, she noticed he was clean and shaven. The scent of fresh shampoo and soap pervaded her senses, a welcoming comfort, before her internal alarm snapped her fully awake.

“Where am I?” she demanded.

But one look around the bathroom clued her in. Lit candles illuminated the small room, making it feel cozy. Romantic, even. Her stomach pitched.

 

“I’ll power up the generator soon,” Ethan answered her unspoken question about the candles. Her back was propped against the wall. Ethan held a wet washcloth to her forehead. “I was going to let you sleep it off, but you were starting to stink.”

 

She snatched the cloth from his hand. “That tends to happen when you kidnap some and drag her through the woods,” she snapped.

He didn’t rattle. His mouth tipped into that smug half-smile. “Towels are in the closet. Everything you need is already in the shower.” He stood. “I’ll leave you alone.”

 

She watched him exit the room, shutting the wood panel door behind him. She tossed the cloth and jumped to her feet, and immediately swayed. Using the wall to right herself, she crept toward the door and check the handle. Locked.

 

From the outside.

Christ. She was in a house designed for captives.

 

She found a bottle of water on the counter and drank half of it down before rationalizing that it could be drugged. She waited to feel any disorienting effects. Once the fogginess started to clear from her brain, she drank the rest and tried to recall how she got there. 

 

Did they cross over a state line? 

Yes, Ethan said that was part of his plan—to get outside of Salem in twenty minutes. But how long ago was that? 

How far did they drive?

 

A knock sounded at the door. “I laid clothes out for you in the guest room. You can discard the ones you’re wearing.”

She braced her palms on the counter. She couldn’t make another mistake. She couldn’t underestimate him again. 

“And food?” she needed energy.

“I’ll have something ready for you.”

 

She wait until his footsteps receded. Then she unbuttoned her grimy blouse and pulled off her filthy skirt. All her clothes got into a wastebasket near the toilet. It took too long for the water to heat. She dove into a cold shower, thankful to feel something clean against her skin.

Halfway through bathing, the water began to warm, and she assumed this was due to the generator Ethan mentioned. As she washed her hair, she filtered every piece of data he gave her, processing his words, the scenery, her predicament. She needed more information.

 

She needed to suppress her fear and do what she was trained to do: listen. Marlena shut the water off and stepped onto the chilly hardwood floor. Towel wrapped tightly around her, she looked for clues. The whole bathroom was paneled in light and dark reclaimed wood. The shower and sink were white porcelain with contemporary fixtures. The candlelight reflected off a tall vanity mirror, setting the space in an ambient glow that she’d otherwise appreciate if not for the fact that she was trapped. Under normal circumstances, she’d never condone using a patient’s unhinged state to attract them…but this was no normal circumstance. And her patient was a special brand of disturbed.

 

She had to stay sharp. She had to outwit him. As she did with Stefano at Maison Blanch. With that in mind, when the bathroom door opened, she was primed. Ready to take on Ethan with the only weapon she had.

 

She was not prepared for the impact, however. Ethan stood in the doorway shirtless, unashamed. His tattoos and scars on full display. A gauze bandage wrapped his shoulder, and a low-slung pair of jeans hang on his hips, accentuating the toned body she’d only felt before.

 

She tugged her towel higher, and wrapped it tighter.

“Make sure those thighs are squeezed just as tight,” he remarked. 

She bristled, but she bit her tongue, forcing herself not to react.

 

He crossed his arms. “You’re many things, Marlena. Demure isn’t one of them.” His gaze traveled over her body, and she felt the press of it as if he was physically touching her exposed skin.

 

She cleared her throat. “I need clothes.”

He pushed off the doorjamb and stalked forward. She backed up, but he reached her before she had a chance to retreat. They have only spent short lengths of time together where he wasn’t shackled in a chair, and as he towered over her, she was reminded of how much taller than her he was.

He brushed a finger across her shoulder, down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Then he grasped her wrist and brought it up to inspect. Deep-red bands wrap each of her wrists from where the cuffs bit in.

“Sit on the counter,” he said.

She arched an eyebrow. “Clothes,” she demanded.

 

Without warning, he gripped her waist and hoisted her onto the counter. She dug her nails into his arm, but he easily pried her off, turning her hand over between them. He used the soft light of the candles to inspect her scrapes and bruises.

A charged current electrified the air between them. His touch was too intimate, too familiar, her body on high alert, so aware of him and every caress of his sure fingers over her skin. She struggled to breathe.

 

He was silent as he reached above her head to gather alcohol and gauze from behind the vanity. His cologne invaded her space. It was a clean, nautical scent—and she imagined this is his scent; the way he always smelled before incarceration.

“First you hurt me, then you mend me,” she said, shaking he head. “Your diagnosis is ever advancing, Ethan.” His fingers trace the sensitive skin beneath her scraped wrists. “Even a sadistic hunter prefers healthy prey.”

 

Marlena tied to snatch her hand away, but his grip tightened. “Hold still.”

She straightened her spine. “You’re enjoying this. Getting off on my pain.”

“Nothing has ever gotten me hotter.” A devious smile twisted his lips, annihilating what was left of her resistance. Her pulse speeded as she allowed him to treat and bandage her wrists. She tried to think, to process, but his bare chest was just inches from her, and all she could do was stare at his scars. One diagonal slash on top of another—twelve in all. He caught her staring. 

“They’re self-inflicted,” she said, and he glanced down.

“Yes.”

 

She recalled during their sessions, the pieces he revealed of himself and his self-imposed punishment. “Is that the number of lives you’ve taken?”

“Yes.”

He’s been convicted of nine murders. He brandished three additional scars. She swallowed an ache. “Am I going to become number eleven? Just another scar on your flesh?”

 

A muscle feathered along his locked jaw. “I won’t let that happen.”

He finished wrapping her left wrist, and she pumped her hand into a fist. “How can you stop it from happening when you can’t control your compulsions. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Because you obsessed over me—over some connection, our ‘inevitability’. And then you fantasized about your escape until you made it happen.”

 

He rested his hands on either side of her thighs, his face too close to hers. Shadows danced over his face. The flicker of candlelight cast his features in dark, predatory beauty. “There are too many contingencies to account for them all. I had to focus on the most likely ones, but we—you and I, Marlena—we were always a contingency. What we’re working through now is the variables to determine our exact outcome.”

 

She held his gaze. “A less intelligent person with your disorder would simply be insane. They’d have been locked up long ago with the rest of the criminally insane. But you…your IQ distorts the madness, Ethan. It may feel like brilliance, even mimic it, but it’s still madness.”

His head tilted slightly, bringing him even closer. “One man’s madness is another’s genius. Is that what you’re saying?”

Her shoulders tensed, his nearness unnerving. “You kidnapped me,” she said, the accusation clear in her raspy voice. “Where is your genius in that?”

 

 “Patience, love. You’ll realize it soon enough.” He lowered his head and inhaled deeply, breathing in her skin. The pulse of his breaths against her shoulder vibrated along her body like a current, humming with a warning.

Ethan pulled away, putting a small space between them. Then, reaching for the white candle, he slowly swiped a finger through the flame. “Touching you is like daring the fire to burn me.”

He taunts the fire, deliberately toying with the wick until the flame was almost snuffed out. Then he moved in. His hands slid along the counter, eating the distance separating them. His thumbs made contact—the slightest touch to her thighs, but she felt the impact rocking through her.

“You’ve always been too tempting,” he said. “Alluring, seductive…making me question myself. That is why Stefano was obsessed. That is why he kept you on the island, for years. Seduction is one of your sins, did you know that? Are you aware of your power?”

 

She licked her lips, completely aware of the way he was watching her mouth. This was a complicated matter, though; how far to push him without going too far, without pushing him over the edge. It could just as easily backfire.

 

“I’ve never felt weak until you happened,” he said, inching her towel up her thighs. “That can drive a man crazy. The want. The need. Craving what you know is bad for you.”

She stopped resisting and let his hips push her knees apart. “I’m just as guilty,” she admitted.

His hand traveled eagerly up her back, then he pushed his fingers into her damp hair. Restraint unleashed, he fisted her hair and tugged, exposing her neck. She closed her eyes against the feel of his mouth touching down, his lips and tongue coaxing her to give in as he kissed a blistering trail over the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

He paused when he reached her ear. “You are the bad thing.”

Her eyes opened. Arousal forgotten, she pulled back and stared into his pale gaze. “I’m tired of this game, Ethan.”

“Then stop playing and show me you.” His hold in her hair tightened as he gripped her upper thigh with his other, forcing her against him.

The abrasive rub of his jeans between her legs made her gasp, and she thrust her hands out. She planted her palms on his chest, keeping a span of air between them. 

“Let me go—” His mouth captured hers in a ruthless kiss, swallowing her plea.

 

Marlena pushed at his chest, hating that she notice the strain in his muscles, the way her body responded to the hardness pressing against her inner thigh. His fingers dug into the flesh of her backside, pulling her harder to him, her struggle only fueling the fire.

Her nails found purchase in his skin, and she clawed for freedom. He absorbed the attack as if he was feeding on the pain. She located the bandage on his shoulder and nailed the wound with her fist. His guttural roar filled the cavern of her mouth before he broke away, breaths heavy.

“I want out,” she demanded. “I want out of this sick game.”

He took her hand and flattened it to his chest, covering the scratches beading with red. “You’re here—right here—because you chose to be. This is where you belong.”

“I didn’t choose to be your captive…your victim.”

“What did you want to be, then? My love slave? My clandestine lover? Fucking like animals between inmate visitations?” 

His laugh was hollow. “I hardly think that would be good enough for the respectable Dr. Evans. Or maybe it’s the other way around. You thought I’d be your dirty secret. Your pet. Take me out when you want to play, then lock me back up when you’re through.” He moved in closer, thrusting his erection hard against her seam. “Tell me. What did you think this was about?”

 

She hated him—she hated the way his words fractured her mind. The way his touch seared her flesh. She hated the way her body arched toward him against her will, the ache deep within her core a pulsing heat that demanded to be sated.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“You hate everything but me.”

“Stop fucking with my head—” Her hands became fists that beat at his chest. Blind punches land anywhere she could strike.

Ethan groaned and pulled her off the counter. His strong arms hauled her forward, then she was against the wall. Her back made contact as his body pinned her, his hands trapping hers above her head. Her lungs fought for oxygen.

“Is this your attempt at mastering your urges?” he said against her lips. “Let’s see how mastered you are.”

Keeping her wrists locked together, Ethan freed one of his hands. He slid it down her arm until he reached the towel. With a quick tug, her only barrier from him dropped to the floor.

 

She was more than naked; she was bared. Exposed. Vulnerable.

 

His skin touching hers, the heat of his body, the raw desire…it was real. And it was decimating. The air around them was charged with an alarming current that threatened to combust all the molecules in the room.

His knee wedged her legs apart, and her body didn’t fight. The ache intensified at the feel of his hand finding her instantly. She quaked under his touch and arched off the wall, her breasts seeking contact with his rough skin.

“Deny it,” he whispered as he expertly slipped his fingers between her thighs. “Utter one claim that this isn’t what you want, and I’ll stop.”

 

But he knows the truth of her already. He could feel how wet she was as his fingers slid over her clit, hear her yearning in the breathless moans she tried to hold back.

“Tell me you want this—say it. Tell me.”

She bit her lip, refusing to give in completely. “I can want physical satisfaction,” she finally said when her body peaked. “That’s not a shattering revelation. It means nothing.”

The sound of his zipper lowering sent a thrill coursing through her veins. Want was a dangerous emotion. When it was strong enough, all other emotions faded into the background. She already knew that.

 

His hand moved against her pelvis as he took himself out. The silky smooth touch of his cock along her stomach speeded her pulse, her heart knocked painfully against her chest wall.

“You’re so strong, Marlena. So damn strong and stubborn.” She could feel him stroking himself, and her eyes fluttered closed. The ache built into a sharp throb between her legs. “I love everything about you—even your demons. It turns me on and drives me mad. The bad things you’ve done. I should despise what you are, but you caught me in your web, and I’m begging you to bleed me dry, that’s how twisted you got me.”

 

She gasped for air, her skin scorched everywhere he touched.

She opened her eyes, and there in the vanity mirror she glimpse herself. She didn’t recognize that woman.

 

“Look at me.”

She did. 

She stared right into him, taking in the heated look she saw in his pale greens. How his arms flexed with his sure movements as he continued to stroke himself. She couldn’t fight the need any longer. “Fuck me.”

 

A smile notched the corner of his mouth up. The way his features shifted, so subtle, so knowing, she shivered. He leaned in, pushing his body fully against hers. 

“Say it again,” he whispered in her ear.

She swallowed her erratic heartbeat. “Fuck me.”

 

He bit down on her shoulder, eliciting a cry from her, as he slipped his cock between her slick lips—teasing, but not entering. He palmed her face and stared into those dark eyes. The gold flecks sheen with the reflective sparkle. “We never have to stop. Never. I no longer have my penance to bear, just as you no longer have to live a lie. Shame doesn’t exist between us. As for the maddening need…” he dragged a finger down her body. “We’ll find a way to satisfy ourselves.”

 

Bathed in starlight, her body was achingly beautiful. A tantalizing tease finally within reach. He was drunk on the sight of her. He lowered his mouth to her shoulder, tasting the hint of lilac on her skin—his aphrodisiac, his drug. Shw was his addiction.

Her breath hitched as he grasped her tiny waist in his hands. Then as she tilted her head back, surrendering to the spell, he dropped kisses to her flesh. Greedily taking every bare inch of her for himself.

 

Her eyes closed and her mind slipped to the wine cellar Stefano kept her in. All the lonely nights she’d spent there, naked. Bare. How he used to tie her up, have her again and again. She snapped. “It’s too much—keep touching me, Ethan. I’m burning up. I need more.”

“God, I love it when you talk dirty. Tell me all the bad things you’ve done.” Her knees hit the ground. He sucked a trail over the soft skin of her pelvis, loving the way she gripped his shoulders, her legs trembling from need.

“I tried to seduce a priest,” she said, the throaty rasp of her voice tearing at his control.

 

He grazed his fingers down her thighs, then brought one of her legs over his shoulder and buried his mouth against the tender flesh of her inner thigh. She jolted at the feel of his teeth, and he groaned when her heat touched his face. Her hands sank into his hair as he kiss and bit his way up her thigh, her breathy, broken cries made his cock so hard it ached against his jeans.

 

He tasted her then. He grasped her ass and forced her sweet center to his mouth, his tongue slipping between her silky lips. She was wet and hot and he could feel every constriction of her muscles as she ground against his face.

“Ethan…” His name was a prayer on her lips. It made him crazy. The need for her unbearable. His desire roamed wild, tasting her until she was throbbing against his tongue.

He pulled away and pushed off the ground. He lifted her into his arms, seating her right up against the achingly hard member of his body that yearned only for her.

 

“Take me,” she breathed over his mouth before she nipped his bottom lip. He groaned, thrusting a hand into her hair and pulling her down against him. “Fuck me until I’m begging you to stop…until we’re on the brink of death.”

“Shit.” He trembled as he lowered her to the earth, every muscle and sinew strung tight in anticipation. “Christ, you’re so fucking perfect. I won’t ever hold back with you. That would be a sin.”

 

Her nails dug into his skin. It was agonizing and pleasurable and unadulterated. He hissed out a tense breath as her fingers hit the old wound on his stomach.

“Do it again,” he said.

She stroked the injury, “I knew this is how you’d feel like.”

He craved her pain like his lungs craved oxygen. “Like sin.”

 

“Then make me a sinner, Ethan..”

He kissed the cuts on her wrists. The new marks he put there. It heightened the urge to mark her body even more, to make her his in a way that she belonged to no one else. He raked her teeth over her shoulder, then sank into her neck, eliciting a soft, breathless cry.

He loved that sound.

Ravenous. 

The pain built to a staccato beat between them that pulsed with insatiable need. To be closer. To be skin to skin. The hard slab of earth beneath them amplified his awareness, the night clear and flawless. Nothing impure to hold them back.

 

He rolled her on top of him, gazing up at her naked body, breasts bared to him with no trace of shame in her bottomless eyes. He flattened his hand along her stomach as she arched her back, working a string of expletives from her as she ground her slick lips against the shaft of his cock.

 

“Fuck. You’re killing me.” he lifted up to meet each of the sexy rolls of her hips.

She fell over him, her hair cascading down her shoulder and creating a curtain to shield them from the world. He let her cage him in, the undeniable power flowing from her limbs jacking his heart rate. She wore her sins beautifully.

 

“What if I could?” she whispered into the shell of her ear. Her teeth nicked his flesh as she found purchase on the ground to push back hard, decimating his restraint.

 

A growl worked free, and he captured her wrist. He brought her hand to his throat and squeezed her fingers to his jugular. “If you’re going to tease, you better be willing to back it up.”

A deviant glint ignited her eyes. “You’re serious.”

“I’d suffer any torture willingly if it came at your hands. My sick matches your sick.” He moved her fingers to his mouth and sucked the pads, tasting her fevered arousal. “Touch yourself,” he commanded.

 

She did. 

Arcing back, she pushed those delicate fingers to her clit, rubbing and ratcheting her desire higher. He groaned at the feel of her heated flesh sliding over him. Torture didn’t begin to describe how punishing the feel of her was. Her mounting orgasm grabbed hold, and her thighs gripped him, her muscles clenching for release.

 

Wild and unfettered, with zero control tying him down, he rose up and hooked an arm around her lower back. He anchored her to him, swallowing her gasp, as he sank into her. Their gazes connected. Every torturous second he held still inside of her was an eternity.

 

Her nails sliced into his back, and that simple action triggered her body to flex around him, detonating an explosive response. He slammed into her. Gripping at the dirty floor behind him, he thrust into the perfect center of her, unrestrained. Her breathy cries fall close to his mouth. He tasted her pleas, answering each one with another unguarded thrust.

The feel of being inside her annihilated every single belief he had before her.

 

This was heaven. The only heaven he cared to witness.

She was his truth now.

 

She peaked, he peaked. Their bodies raised and lowered in tandem, cresting higher, falling farther. The emotion thrumming their bodies was almost unbearable. The desire to inflict and experience pain was damn near overwhelming. It was too much. Feeling was too much. It was maddening.

 

“Hurt me,” she pleaded.

 

A violent shiver rioted through him.

When pain is the only emotion you’ve ever known, it’s all you crave. It lets you know you’re alive.

 

His hands were touching, roving over every delicate region of her flesh. He scraped his fingers down her skin, marking her body with dirt from his hands. The abrasive grit of it rubbed between them as they fucked. There was nothing tender in this moment as every ravenous desire demanded to be sated. They were filthy. Fucking like two insatiable, wild animals that were starving for each other.

 

He bit down on the firm peak of her nipple, and she threw her head back, welcoming the sharp pain. Too many ways in which he could hurt her assaulted his thoughts, tearing at his weakening control.

He cupped her shoulders from behind, forcing her to arch and bare her tits to him. As he drove into her, the need to be deeper seized his sanity. “It’s not enough.”

“Fucking make it enough, Ethan. Hurt me.”

 

He growled and forced her onto the ground, dragging her leg over his shoulder and slamming their hips together. Her fingers splayed over the hard slab of muscles along his stomach as he rutted into her. The need still demanded more.

 

Her petite body fitted seamlessly against his, begging him to manhandle her into any position he wanted. With a low growl, he flipped her over and slipped a hand beneath her pelvis, angling her beautiful ass up. Then he grabbed her wrists and anchored them to her back.

The position made her vulnerable and bared, his cock throbbing as he eased up behind her, her heart thundering. He pushed her to the hilt. Her body bucked at the pressure, but then she was undulating those sexy hips, begging for more.

 

“Fucking hell,” he breathed as he thrust deeper, forcing her wrists toward the middle of her slim back.

She released a throaty moan, her core pulsing and tightening around him. He was a starved animal with no remorse, his desire to fill her and take her all at once unfurling in the sweetest agony.

 

He fucked her violently. He fucked her brutally. Against the cold, unforgiving floor. As the most shattering pleasure claimed him, he was lost. Her name a chant ripping free.

She came shamelessly. 

She came with abandon. She came so hard she nearly pushed him out, but he crashed back into her, breaking against her wave.

For a few tender seconds, as Marlena and him came down, ethereal bliss suspended the pain, and she fell against her, heaving strenuous breaths, sweeping his mouth over her so he could consume every bit of her and this moment.

 

Euphoria.

 

She freed herself of his weight and pushed him to the ground, where she curled on top of his body.

She wrapped his arms around her. He’d never felt peace before. He cradled her to him, allowing this foreign emotion to own him the same way she possessed him entirely. They lied like this until her breathing evened out.

 

He didn’t want it to end.

But all too soon, the world and its constant constraint reminded him there was still work to be done. There was only one way for Marlena to be completely free.

 

February 4th, 1996

 

A blazing heat like a furnace warmed the side of her face. The startling contrast of hot and cool ripped her out of a dreamless sleep, awareness hurtling her out of her calm and sated cocoon.

 

For once, her mind was blissfully quelled from all thoughts of the past and present. Then, reality bled in, drawing her into a new realm of anxiety.

A heated orange and red flickered against her eyelids. She reached for Ethan, and heard a rattling clink as her wrist was pinched and the cool kiss of metal dragged across her arm. Eyes straining to open, an alarm sounded within her, her heart pounded in her ears as blood rushed her arteries.

 

She felt disconnected. Woozy. Marlena blinked a few times to clear her vision, and the sight hollowed out her chest. Fire blazed high into the early morning sky. Flames seamed the edges of deep blue, blending into the mosaic of red and orange clouds, unable to separate the two entities.

 

“Ethan—” she said, panic lacing her voice. Then as she started to shout his name, the realization of where she was and what’s happening crashed into her.

 

She yanked at the cuffs. A chain circled the scaffold, shackling her to a tree. Beyond the field, the house was engulfed in fire. The pop and snap of burning beams reached her ears before the faint siren.

Frantic, she examined her body. She was again wearing the black satin dress she found last night. She glanced up. No key to set her free. Her chest panged with an empty, resonating ache.

Ethan told her he would let her go.

 

Oh, God. 

She didn’t imagine it. She didn’t invent what happened between them. No, her memories were firmly in place, undisturbed. Everything that transpired was still with her, a part of her—the world more transparent than ever.

 

Only Ethan was gone.

He let her go.

 

She tugged at the handcuffs, desperate to flee. She sagged against the scaffold. Her bones weary, her muscles lethargic. Reality was a black hole. She couldn’t see past the immediate and instant gratification—but he could. Still, he didn’t give her a choice. He decided for her.

The flash of police lights bounced against the pines. As the flames rose higher, smoke billowing into the callous morning, the shouts of firefighters and authorities clash. A moroseness settled in the pit of her stomach. Misery acute and damning. Then voices drifted toward the clearing.

“Doc?”

The dull talons of melancholy dragged her under. She couldn’t respond. She couldn’t breathe.

“Doc! I found her! Are you all right?”

 

Her unseeing gaze snagged on a significant detail. The dark suit before her looked familiar. “I’m here baby. You’re safe now.” John laid a hand on her bare shoulder in a show of comfort. “Let’s get some help over here!” he shouted.

Her body curled around the scaffold. Clinging to the solidness. Only moments before, she was free. Free in a way she never dared to imagine, or perhaps this freedom was a only a ruse all along.

The pain tore a seam inside her, and an ache clogged her throat. She choked on the bile of bitterness. But she sniffed hard, shoving the ache down. She has to.

“Please, get these off me,” she managed to say.

John directed his attention toward her. “Of course, Doc.” He slipped on a pair of Latex gloves. While he was working the cuff mechanism, agents and police officials entered the clearing.

In a matter of seconds, uniforms and Tyvek-suited medical examiners had the clearing yellow-taped and marked off as a crime scene. 

“Oh, my God, Doc, when I heard you were taken...we looked everywhere..." he stilled, trying to catch her eyes. His eyes scanned her blanket-covered body, It was clear she wasn't wearing anything underneath the thin fabric. "I’m sorry to have to ask this, Marlena.” He searched her gaze. “But Mike suggested for you to undergo medical screening.”

Heat blazed her chest. “You mean a rape kit.”

“Yes.” 

“Oh, John..I-”

With a resounding click, the cuffs released her wrists. He shook out an evidence bag from the officer next to him, and slipped them inside. “Doctor Evans,” the officer started,

“I’ll also need your statement shortly afterward.”

 

She rubbed her wrists, the beveled ridges of scrapes a painful reminder of what she was. He tried to help her stand, but she fend him off with an outstretched hand. “I’m all right,” she assured.

And she was. The pain that normally plagued her hasn’t returned, vanishing the moment acceptance took root.

Later, she’ll analyze this phenomenon. But she couldn’t think of it now.

 

“I’m ready,” she announced.

“Let’s take you home.”

“Home?”

John guided her out of the field and toward an ambulance parked a distance away from the blaze. Chaos swept the once peaceful woods as firefighters fight back the inferno before it spreads.

 

She faced the fire, let the heat touch her skin. She felt it deep in her marrow, that electric pulse of chaos and disaster. Ethan’s artwork framed within a pale canvas of the sky. She watched the flames dance and tease higher, until John forced her away.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Doc. I mean, really there, as you deserve.”

“I know you were busy with Kristen and-”

“No more” he admitted.

“Any evidence must be in there,” one of the agents said as he passed, interrupting, his gaze cast on the smoldering house. “We’ve recovered nothing so far.”

John nodded him on. “Keep searching.”

 

She closed her eyes. Just for a second to gather her bearings. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go back to her lonely nights and too peaceful mornings. Not alone.

“No more?” she asked, going back to his earlier statement.

“When they told me you were taken, all I could think of, was how you’d never know how I truly feel…”

“John-”

“No, Doc, hear me out..please, I’d choose you; In a hundred lifetimes, In a hundred worlds, In any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.”

A medical personnel wrapped a warm blanket around her, directing her farther away from the scene. John followed. “Doc…is.. is he in there?” he asked.

Her gaze flicked to the blackened, charred bones of the house. The fire still burnt, brilliant orange and red and raging, licking the limbs of pines and sending embers into the dusky sky.

 

Ethan burned it all for her.

He set her free in more ways than one.

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

Some things were meant to remain shrouded in mystery, she supposed. Where you’re not fed the answer. You have to search for it.

 

FIN