The piercing shriek of the kettle assaulted her head. She tripped over her feet on her way to flip off the stove burner. After she moved the kettle aside, she buried her temples against her palms, resting her elbows on the counter for support. 

A hangover she couldn’t deal with. 

But this was a whole other level of the day after dejection. 

Marlena plopped a green tea bag into her cup and poured steaming water over it. Then she thought better and made a second cup. She owed Mike a hell of a lot more than a stupid cup of tea, but it was a start. 

 

“Doc.” She felt a heady presence before she turned to see John standing in the entryway of the kitchen. 

“John,” she was surprised, but anxiety kicked in soon after.

Their eyes locked, silence stretching out between them like a gulf. And she should feel desperate to fill it, but a strange comfort settled over her that he was here. 

 

His white dress shirt hung open; black tie was left undone, matching the unkempt look of his hair. She still couldn’t make out the words clearly. 

“Where’s Mike?” she asked calmly. 

His crooked smile sparked a flutter in her stomach. 

“He left when I got here. He told me what happened...I can’t believe I wasn’t here. Are-are you okay?” 

She nodded her head. 

 

What does ‘everything’ means?

 

He cocked his hip against the counter, crossed his arms. 

“I’m making tea, you want some?” Turning her attention to the cups, she kept busy with adding honey, slicing lemons…anything to stop talking about yesterday. 

When he left, things were still odd between them, and now that he was finally there, she couldn't blame him for sleeping with Hope, after she had done almost the same thing, and had a drug to blame too. 

 

“Thank god Mike was here last night. Why didn’t you go to the hospital, Doc?” 

She kept quiet, adding a slice of lemon to each cup and bobbed the tea bags. “John—” She faced him, needing to look into his eyes, no matter what she found there. “It might not seem like it, but it was the right thing to do.”

“Last night…what Mike told me…that was so hard on me.” he tried to find her hazel gaze.

She wished she could read his mind. Know exactly what the slight furrow of his brow means, the serious, hard stare of his blue eyes. 

 

When he broke the intense stare off, it was to reach up and feel the scruff along his jaw. “I’m sorry I wasn't here…” he repeated. 

His words pierced her heart. 

He had no idea what had happened with her and Mike.

“You couldn’t have known,” was her pathetic response. John’s mouth hardened into a line. “I almost lost you once. I can’t ever do that again, Marlena.” 

Averting her gaze, she stared at her bare feet. Her legs that she shamefully forgot to cover up last night, and John’s T-shirt that just barely hid her ass.

 

After yesterday, she didn’t feel the need to hide. Obviously, she made a huge error in judgment. 

“I should go get dressed. Your tea’s on the counter.” She attempted to rush past him, but he clasped her arm and pulled her to a stop. She winced at the sudden stab of pain in her shoulder. The mortified look on John’s face stole her breath. 

“It’s not you,” she rushed out before he thought the worst of himself. 

“My shoulder was hurt…yesterday.” 

His features relaxed, but just as quickly, his eyebrows drew together in concern. “I thought you said you weren’t hurt?”

“I wasn’t. Not really. But it’s not as if they handled me like a delicate flower petal.” 

He scrubbed his hands down his face, releasing a groan. Then he went to touch her shoulder, and she stepped back. Feeling guilty.

“It’s fine,” she assured him. 

“Hot water will help.”

Before she was successfully out of the room, he said, 

“You do understand why?” 

She turned toward him. “Why was that so hard for me?” 

 

A whole list of reasons quickly formulated. 

His fear for her safety?

But the one thing that stuck out—despite all her effort to suppress it—and coiled her stomach in tight knots, was the one thing only she and Mike knew. 

 

She moved closer, her embarrassment receding now that her anger mounted. “I get it, John. I appreciate what must’ve been a difficult situation for you, and I’m sorry, but this is exactly how you made me feel.” She swallowed down the burn of resentment. “Don’t worry, though. It won’t happen again.” 

That furrow in his brow deepened. “What the hell are you talking about, Doc?” 

Her shock must be apparent. She shook her head in fast jerks, blinking hard to fight back the stupid, angry tears. “Mike was here for me, he was being a good friend, I was drugged, I was kidnapped and if what happened between us disgusts you-” 

“Disgusts me?”

“Be sure it was not a payback to what happened between you and Hope.”

Marlena’s fear screamed louder than her heated words. She was frightened beneath that anger. 

Damn, if looks could kill…he’d be a dead man. “Come on, Doc, vent your frustration. Let me have it.” 

A few weeks ago, she’d have thought something like this would be more fitting. Brady caused turmoil in their relationship.

A twisted caveman scene from the stage of their BDSM love life would be a good idea to ease off her anger right now. But if any one of them dug deep enough, excavating to the darkest trenches of their minds, they might not like what they found there—but it was there. 

A little black match that begged to be sparked. He had a yearning to feel Marlena’s nails rake his skin. Taste her venom as she clawed at his body. 

“You’ve been upset with me for weeks. Even before last night,” he clamped her wrists in a tight hold. Pushing her arms against the kitchen table, he beard down over her.

“I’m worried about you. Could you please tell me what they did do to you before the police got there...please?” 

Her gaze went to the gun in his harness. He started carrying it again after Stefano got back to Salem. 

And she saw it then, the deep-seated fear and pain she suffered. 

Her body racked with terror, quaking beneath him, and he released her wrist to remove his gun from view. 

“Get your gun away from me!” Her voice hoarse, she sent her hands to shove him, only he followed through and caught it on time. 

“What did that man do to you?” 

He restrained her wrists above her head, letting her work the violence out as she bucked and struggled. Her breaths bounce between them in hard pants. 

“I can kill him. I will.” 

She went still, her silky blond hair splayed over her face. 

With a force he was not prepared for, she crushed her mouth to his. Her tongue swept inside, decimating what was left of his composure. 

He let go of her hands, giving her free rein to attack if that was what she needed. His hands got to her waist, working her shirt up, and when the slight tease of flesh wasn’t enough, he pulled the damn thing apart. The fabric broke free to give him access to all of her. Her kiss became hungry as she yanked at his harness strap. 

 

“Take it off.” 

She helped him ease the harness down his waist. “He put his gun inside me.” 

His body planked. Teeth gritted to the point of pain, he finished pulling the harness free. He tossed it to the end of the table, never letting his gaze waver from her eyes. A mental image flared of that bastard assaulting Marlena…and he squeezed his eyes closed, willing it away. But it was branded, pulsing an angry red against his eyelids. 

“The man who came to the lab that day, Rick,” she explained, letting it pour from her. “That’s how he threatened me. How he got me to change the lab report. So that’s why I hate your gun, John. And why I have to be the one to take back control. I have to stop him, and get him good.” 

John stripped his shirt off, then covered her body with his, the heat of her skin a soothing balm. 

“I’ll hold him down for you.” 

Her eyes flicked over his face in surprise. “Fair enough.” 

He slanted his mouth over hers, sealing the pact with a deep kiss. If Marlena needed to inflict pain on her tormentors, he wouldn't stop her. Matter of fact, he was damn sure he’d help her succeed. Her pain blistered his reasoning, the charred remnants of his moral compass disintegrating like ash in the sea. 

 

His thoughts ceased at the feel of Marlena unfurling beneath him. She’d never hidden her scars, not from him. He embraced the truth she was willing to share, his hand got in her hair and gripped her to him, his lips on hers. The impact of his kiss rocked into her and she moaned, unable to repress the sudden intensity of feeling his lips crushing hers. His other hand fisted her shirt, then both were suddenly clutching her waist and lifting her off the floor. Marlena locked her arms around his neck as he hauled her across the kitchen. 

 

The counter where their cups tumbled over, his destination. Then his hands were seeking her thighs, pushing the barrier of his shirt away, his mouth never letting up. Their breathing became ragged and desperate as they tried to claim oxygen without losing each other. When he did break the kiss, it was to capture her neck. His hungry kisses and branding nips sent her spiraling, and she linked her legs around his hips, needing him closer. 

He pulled back. 

“I’m not angry about what happened between you and Mike, Doc.” 

Her chest raised with her leaden breaths. 

She shook her head. “Why not?” 

He groaned. “Because now you’re Marlena. Not drugged, not on some chemical to fuck with your senses. And if you can’t feel how badly I crave you—every fucking sexy bit of you…” he trailed off, his gaze becoming heated. “Fuck, Marlena. I just need you.” 

“Touch me,” she said, the only response she could give him. 

He didn’t hold back. 

John consumed her senses, his masculine scent of cologne and leather, his rough hands adding friction to all the right places.

And unlike before he left on his trip, when he barely allowed himself near her, he now ravished her with a punishing voracity meant to tear down all obstacles. As his mouth caressed her skin, his tongue and lips massaging the ache in her shoulder away, her hand subconsciously got to his lips.

“I’ve missed you….”

He sharply changed course. 

His hand sunk into her hair, his thumb tilted her chin up, angling her face toward his. His other hand encircled her wrist. “I missed you too…” 

He faltered. His gaze lingered on her lips as he moved in, sealing his mouth over hers and enveloping her in a sensual kiss. 

Then, he whispered, “I missed. Every. Fucking. Sexy. Bit of you”—his eyes ensnared hers—“is just as beautiful as the next part. You’re beautiful, Marlena. ” 

 

Then his teeth nipped at her lip, tugging it into his mouth before he pulled her into a devastating kiss that shattered her. 

 

The rest of their clothes were worked off in desperation to be closer. No barriers between them. Sex with Marlena was never the same. 

Each time, he could feel her needs, her desires shifted—they changed depending on her state of mind. And right now, she demanded something darker to sate her hunger. She arched into him as her nails raked his back. He cupped her breast, his mouth finding her pert nipple. His teeth scraped before his tongue followed to soothe, and her moans pitched higher, letting him know she wanted more. 

When he looked into the depths of her hazel eyes, he saw her fight still lingering—the raw, carnal craving to inflict pain to match her own. He could analyze and break that down, weighing his fierce need to control in the face of chaos—or he could submit to her, throwing all rational thoughts out the fucking window. 

“You have to tell me when to stop—” 

“I will,” she assured. “Don’t hold back.” 

She was lit with a blazing heat as his hand found its way between her thighs. With a swift, expert move, he tugged the lacy fabric aside, his fingers seeking her without hesitation. His back tensed underneath her hands as he swirled the pads of his fingers deeper. Cool air nipped at her core, proof of his arousal. 

 

“Damn, you’re so wet,” he whispered harshly against her ear, and she couldn’t help the smile stealing over her face. She was wet—without any drug in her system. She ached all over, completely insatiable. And when he pushed inside, filling her with two of his fingers and leaving them there…she trembled against him. 

“Oh, god, please move. I want to feel you inside me, John.” 

His rough growl heightened her need, and as he gave in, sliding his fingers deeper and with more force, all she could taste and sense was him. 

She wanted to dissect this feeling—to try to understand how it was that, John shredded her defenses. 

 

John tasted like pleasure and sin and longing. Such a powerful combination of emotions that stole her reasoning…she’d always been aware of them. Like she’d been denying herself a right to this feeling all of her life. And now that it was unleashed, ripping them both open at the seams, she dreaded the loss of it. 

She arched into him, unable to control herself as he worked her closer, her walls clamping down around his fingers and her body begging for more. He nipped at her ear, ratcheting up her desire. 

“It was I that should’ve taken your pain yesterday, Doc,” he whispered. “I should’ve tasted your sweet pussy until you came in my mouth…I should have been here.” 

His words caressed her, and as she built toward a climax, desperate to push past any banked uncertainty, she clung to his shoulders. 

He dropped down and took a nipple into his mouth, his hot tongue tasting her through her shirt, his teeth firing a sharp spike of need right through her. 

“That’s it,” he assured. “Let me feel you… I need to taste you.” He dipped lower, leaving her panting and aching, but soon his mouth took her completely. 

His tongue swirled fast and needy over her clit, he pushed one of her knees up, spreading her legs wider as he devoured her, her core pulsing against his thrusts. Then he met her there. 

His mouth swallowed her moan with a hungry kiss, taking the rest for himself. 

 

He bit her inner thigh, then sucked her clit. She tasted like pure, sweet want—a combination not unlike the pleasure and pain he was inflicting. Yearning pulled at his back, muscles taut with restraint. Her hands fisted in his hair. He lifted up and clasped her wrists with one hand as he sank his fingers inside her with the other. 

Pushing her hands into the table, he drove his fingers deeper, swept into a funnel of lust as she bucked against him, her hips arching off the flat surface. In a swift move, he reached over and snaked the belt from his pants. Her eyes pleaded her trust; she knew he’d never hurt her, not in the way she’d suffered before. And all she had to do was utter one syllable to bring him to a dead stop. 

He was not sure who craved this more as he bound her wrists with the leather; but he was damn near shaking. Maybe some of that infection seeped inside him. A plume of blackness swirled like ink into his once pristine, calm waters, rocking him to the core. 

Crafting a beast from the man.

Mixing pain with pleasure. 

When you give yourself to someone, you have to be willing to give it all—willing to be any and all that they need. 

 

For her, he was more than willing to push boundaries. Like a switch, he flipped from dominant to subservient at her body’s request. 

And he worshiped her, strapping the belt to the leg of the big oak table, her wrists bound in leather, so his hands could track her body, memorizing every curve and soft valley. His mouth nipped and caressed, laying claim to every inch of her skin. When she was trembling with need, demanding more, he brought her back away from the end of the table and moved in behind her, placing her arms around his neck. 

“Spread your legs,” he demanded. 

 

She did, pressing her thighs against his. He palmed her hips and brought her ass up against his cock. He ground against her. The feel of her perfect ass tantalizing, maddening. Erotically posed, legs splayed wide, Marlena tugged at her restraint. He plucked her nipples, eliciting a small hitch in her breath, then she moved against him as he worked a hand down, sliding his fingers over her clit. 

He rubbed and massaged, pinching her slick lips between his fingers, applying enough pressure to make her squirm. 

“Harder,” she demanded. 

 

He won’t deny her. Using her body’s response as his guide, he dipped inside her, over and over, fingers pumping as she bucked against him. Her hips undulated, driving him crazy, and he sank his teeth into her arm. Tweaking her nipple got him another sexy thrust of her hips, and he worked the bud until she was panting, tossing her head back against his shoulder. 

 

His mouth bore down, sucking her skin between his teeth, inflicting the pain she sought. She was so wet, his fingers slicked along her folds, her heat drenching his palm. John reached a hand behind his head and loosened the belt enough for her hands to slip free, then bracing an arm around her shoulder, forced her chest down, gave him unfettered access to push inside her. At this angle, she felt so damn tight. 

His cock grew rock-hard at the feel of her contracting around him. 

“Jesus—” he was barely able to construct a coherent thought, never mind a full sentence. He drove harder, hands gripping her hips, slamming her down onto his dick. 

 

He was so fucking greedy, he was about to take it all for himself. But he pulled back, holding her ass just above his pelvis to gain control. She took advantage of the short recess and broke free. 

 

Marlena climbed onto his lap and wrapped her long legs around his waist. Anchoring an arm around his neck, she slid down along his shaft. He bit out a curse. Her sultry smile ignited his skin. 

“I love watching you lose control.” 

Long strokes brought him to the brink as she ground against him. John latched on to her thighs and slammed inside her, catching her mouth with his. 

He slid his fingers into her hair and gripped, exposing her throat. He took his time kissing, tasting, as she rocked against him, pulling them deeper into a sensual haze. He brought her with him as he got to his knees. Holding her in his arms, he piston into her until she dug her nails into his back for purchase. 

“Don’t hold back…” she trailed off, and he spun them toward the wall, pinning her.

Holding back with her would be an insult to this woman. Her only fear: his gun. The reminder spiked his fury anew, and he wrenched his belt free of the table’s leg. 

“Make me hurt,” she whispered against his lips. 

 

Fucking hell. 

 

A hard shiver blanketed his skin, threatening in the wake of her words. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he tested first—a light whap with the end of the leather belt. Her body clenched, and he squeezed his eyes closed against the consuming feeling of her tightening around him. John closed his hand around her throat, his body holding her against the wall behind them as he drove into her, and smacked her ass harder. 

He felt her gasp against his palm, and when she relaxed again, she soaked his cock. At her command, the licks came harder, each time a testament to his control that he didn’t break. 

 

His fingers clasp her throat tighter, her eyes drilling into him with a desperate plea. 

More. 

His thrusts became wild. 

Every time the leather slapped her skin, the sound sent a jolt charging through him. She gasped against his hold, pure erotic pleasure creasing her beautiful features. He swallowed her breathy moan as she came hard, so fucking hard, and he released inside her. 

 

His mouth took in the last of her orgasm, tasting her desire. As he broke away, panting and fucking dizzy, she stroked the back of his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

He didn't ask. 

He didn’t have to. 

But he heard the ache in her voice. He answered her with a caress to her hair, and carried her to their bedroom. Then laid her in bed and wrapped his arms around her, tucking her close. 

They tried to hear the peace in the darkness.

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