John shut the door, barring her from escape and muffling the music. The snick of the lock sliding into place detonated through the room and her body. 

For every step he took, Marlena retreated a step backward until her back landed flush against the wall. 

This was someone’s bedroom. 

There was a bed and pillows and a desk—but there was nothing within reach to use as a weapon. 

The dark was smothering and complete…except for the blinking red light from the street light. He took another step forward. 

His hands came up on either side of her head, barricading her against the wall. 

“We’re not done, Blondie.” His voice dropped low, too deceptively calm. 

“We’re absolutely done,” she said, instilling strength she didn’t feel. “I’m helping you ding Stefano. My life with my husband is off limits.” 

 

He slams his hands against the wall, making her flinch. Her breaths trembled past her lips on a whimper. 

“We’re not done.” The dark pits of his eyes shut down any argument. “When he died,” he says, “did he take you with him?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“No, sweetness. Fuck you.” He took hold of her hips and yanked her ass off the wall. She drove her fists into his arms, but John had her dress ruched up past her belly before she could put up a real fight. He gripped the back of her neck and held her in place as his other hand flattened against her stomach. 

“Your fucking pain strangles me every day,” he said, resting his forehead to hers. As the backs of his fingers grazed her sensitive skin, her stomach seized with uncontrollable tremors, her whole body succumbing to the violent attack. 

“Please…” she tried to reason. 

“What are you pleading for?” He growled the question, his demand provoking reactive tears to her eyes. “What do you want?” 

She didn’t know. 

Pushing his mouth against her ear, he said, “Before I even saw you, I felt your pain. It called to me like a siren, my muse of heartbreak. I wanted to taste it, to feast on it; your pain is that irresistible. All I wanted was to drop to my knees and devour every last drop of you just so you could breathe…so I could fucking breathe.” 

 

Her breaths were ragged, choking her voice. “You’re fucking sick if this is what gets you off, John.” Anger seared her insides, rising through the debilitating fear. “A soulless robot like you pretend to be ever since you’ve woken up at Stefano’s lab, could never understand what I feel.” 

He slammed his hand against the wall, so close to her face she felt the force ricochet through her bones. She shook from the force of it, tears spilling over her eyes. She was angry and frightened, and yet she wanted to scream. 

 

“There it is,” he whispered over her lips. His frenzied gaze hungrily tracked the tears, then he pushed in against her and dragged his tongue up her neck and jaw, tasting her emotions, lapping her tears. 

“I can taste your anguish like the spiciest curry,” he said. “It’s so goddamn delectable; it’s driving me fucking crazy. I want to sink inside you and rut out the pain.” His admission stirred a visceral reaction, and her body responded against her will. She felt the heated wetness pool in her panties, and she pressed her thighs together to offset the throbbing ache. John moved aside and leaned his forehead against the wall, his body corded tight around her. He planted the heel of his hand to her chest, fingers trapping the solitaire pendant—the diamond from her wedding ring. 

On instinct, her hands got to her belly, trying to control the tremors racking her muscles. Her knees buckled. The only thing holding her upright was John’s grounding touch as the unwanted memory cruelly broke through. 

The sound of grinding metal. 

The flashing lights of the ambulance. 

The doctor’s stoic face as she delivered the news of his death. 

“Stop—” she said the word aloud, but she was not sure who it was directed toward, her or John. He released a leaden breath as his hand traveled to her stomach. He grasped her hand and pinned her wrist to the wall with an unspoken command before he skimmed the backs of his fingers across the sensitive plane of her abdomen, provoking another hard shiver. 

“Here’s the truth of your pain, Blondie.” His fingers teased the flesh of her pelvis. “Nietzsche believed the only way to achieve our desires was through suffering. Anything that comes easily is measured as mediocre. Any art, any passion, any great love”—he pushed away from the wall to capture her gaze “—is attained only through pain and struggle. Your beautiful pain is divine, and you still have no idea how much power you possess.” 

 

“You remember this and not me? You’re not making any sense,” she said, her voice trembling. His chuckle slipped over her flesh in a sensual caress, and he grabbed her face in a brutal grip. His thumb swiped the tear tracked from her cheek before he moved to her mouth, clearing away the remnants of blood staining her lips. 

“One taste.” His gaze was on her mouth, and fear stabbed her chest, knowing she would not survive if his lips touched hers. 

John drops to his knees. 

His mouth delicately brushes her belly, trailing to her pelvis, before his teeth captured the border of her panties. 

“Oh, god…” 

“I will make you see god for damn sure.” He dragged her panties down around her ankles and notched his arm beneath the soft junction of her knee, spreading her thighs. The feel of his mouth surrounding her, tongue delving between her slick folds, buckles her knees. He pinned her to the wall as he tasted her. 

Fire blazed up her back as his teeth scraped over her clit before he sucked her lips into his mouth. A broken breath escaped past the aching pressure in her chest, and, losing her mind, she fisted her hands in his hair. She bucked against him, her body detached from all rational thought. 

She was so close to falling over the edge… Then suddenly, the feel of him was gone, cool air caressing her bare skin. She chanced a look down to see him staring up at her with those clashing eyes, hellfire, and maddening desire swirling within the depths. He braced his forehead to her belly, feeling the tremble of her body before he stood. 

He backed away, his heated gaze still causing havoc to her body. The red light flashed in rhythmic pulses, chasing the acceleration of her heartbeat. A smug smile pulled at the corner of John’s mouth as he placed his he took hold of her chin. 

His eyes never left hers. 

“Close your eyes, Blondie.” 

“Joh-”

“Close your eyes.”He licked his lips in warning. Coarse material touched her shoulders, and she flinched. John draped the dress around her. Opening her eyes, Marlena didn’t realize until just that moment how badly she was shaking.

 

“Wait—” she held up her hand, then covered her chest with her arms. “I need a minute.” She took three centering breaths, then scanned the dark room. The blackness engulfed the distant backdrop, making her heart rate climb. He cupped her face, pulling her gaze up to meet his. His breath stole across her lips in a tantalizing stroke that held the threat of the unknown at bay. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he whispered over her mouth. 

She swallowed the forming ache.“You are the bad thing.” 

A crooked smile hitched the seam of his mouth. “And you are insanely beautiful.” He dropped a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth.

 

Her heart rate soared, a heavy woosh filled her ears. She stilled her body, waiting. He guided her to her knees, the sodden floor cold against her skin. As he looked down at her, he inhaled a deep breath. 

“Touch yourself,” he commanded. Her mouth parted as anxiety bit her nerves. John glided his tongue over the seam of his lips as he openly eyed her naked body. “Either you’re going to fuck yourself right now, Marlena, or I’m going to fuck you.” 

He was aggressive, vulgar—and her body should not be responding to his filthy words, but the heat pooling between her thighs flushed her face. As she tentatively slipped her hand down her belly, John took a step back to absorb the full view.

 

At the feel of her fingertips descending over her clit, her hips involuntarily rocked. Breathing staggered, she kept her gaze aimed on him as she gave him exactly what he wanted. He harbored no shame as he brazenly dropped the hand holding the knife.

 

Undulating her hips faster, Marlena arched her back, her fingers seeking the needy spot between her slick lips. The night cloaked them, enabling these depraved yearnings, and she couldn’t deny how badly she craved his touch—how, when he lowered the zipper of his jeans to free himself, the sight of his thick, hard cock made her whimper. She bit down on her lip to stifle the sound, unable to take her gaze off John as he fisted the base of his cock and stroked himself to the tip. 

Her knees dug into the floor as she spread her thighs wider, driving the throbbing ache deeper. With a feral hunger, he bore his teeth and dropped to his knees right before her, making her heart batter her chest. He reached for the wine bottle he took from the main entrance and tunneled a hand into her hair, he forced her back to arch farther as he spilled the wine over her breasts. He dipped lower and licked a blazing trail over her chest, down around her erect nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. 

Her whole body ignited. 

Untamed need curled in her belly as she fingered herself, his fire singeing my skin everywhere he touched.

 

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, perfect.” His praise enveloped her in a heated current, dissolving all restraint as she became pliant to his will. 

“You make me fucking crazy.” Bowing her back farther, he tenderly guided a hand down her chest, discovering every aching zone of her body calling out to him. He dipped her back, and brought her forward, rocking them in a dizzying motion as the pulsing, demanding ache swelled with need to be sated. 

The feel of his cock grinding against his stomach was torturous, and she was so wet and swollen her fingers slipped and struggled to give her body what it needed. 

“Touch me, John. Inside—” She was not aware the plea has left her mouth until John unleashed a fierce growl. His eyes blazed hotter than the fire as he drew her upright. Then he moved behind her and pulled her back to his chest. He pushed his hand between her thighs. The arched heel of his hand brushed along her slit, and her core clenched around the intense and almost painful ache. 

Her body responded to the erotic sensation as wet heat saturated her folds. John glided his thumb over the sensitive flesh to provoke a moan. His low growl was a primal response to the feel of her arousal, and it resonated in her chest to trap her breath. 

“Breathe.” He issues the command and, as she dragged in a hastened breath to fill her starved lungs, an image flickered across her vision. 

John’s clashing gaze wide and staring into her. 

Blood staining his chest. 

Breathe mouthed from his lips. Blinking rapidly to beat back the image, she reached for a stable breath to control the tremor stealing through her. The knock of the drums increased, and a surge of adrenaline rushed her blood. 

Her head got light, disorienting, as if she was drugged. 

John’s hands traveled her body in a frantic search, touching, groping. Desperate to claim all of her at once. She rolled her head along his chest, trying to latch on to some rational thought. “It’s too much…going too far…” 

She reached up to remove the circlet, but John trapped her wrist. He braced her arm along her hip, then the sudden touch of cold steel on her flesh fired through her body with a jolt of alarm. The blade flattened against her stomach, and her belly flinched with an instinctive tremor to contract her muscles. 

The intense, resulting pleasure that clenched deep inside almost shattered her. He released her wrist to bracket his arm across her chest. Slowing their movements, he dragged the blunt edge of the knife across her midsection. Her adrenals flooded her system with panic. 

 

“Primordial pain unlocks our will,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. “But fear exposes our most base desires.” The pressure of the blade was suddenly gone as John held the knife out before her. The glinting steel caught the firelight in a hypnotic wave to mimic the undulating flames. Then, with an abrupt shift in position, he released his grip on her shoulder and placed his hand next to the knife. 

 

Clutching the hilt in one hand, he sent the tip of the blade into the palm of his other and slashed a deep-red seam across the center of his palm. As the blood welled, the sight stirred a visceral reaction. 

Her heart crashed into the cage of her chest, frantically beating in time to the climbing drumbeat. Shadows encroach along the edge of her vision and she started to tunnel under. “Stay with me, Blondie.” The command was delivered in a calm cadence that held her bound. He moved the knife from one hand to the other and sliced diagonally across his palm, splitting the skin to allow a line of blood to flow free. 

Her lungs plead for air. 

The edge of her consciousness darkens, wavering as the accident scene flickered like the fire in her peripheral. Only she was viewing it from the wrong angle. Glimpses of John’s blood—bright-red and fresh—just as fresh as the blood dripping from John’s hands. 

 

He proceeded to slice his palm twice more. Blood coated the hilt. Red trickled down his forearm. A haze of red layered her vision as he gently rested the flat of the blade across the fleshy swell of her breasts and commenced to smear his blood. His hand collared her throat from behind, and the warmth of his blood sank into her skin. He savagely dragged his hand from her neck to her collarbone, then gripped her breasts, painting her flesh in his violence as he roved over her body. Her skin became sheened in crimson that reflected the flickering red light against the dark night. 

 

“John—stop.” Before panic could drag her all the way under, he set her free, and he got to his feet. He walked around so he could admire his work. A beautiful smile overtook his face, and, it was so inviting, so captivating, she caved under its spell. He leaned over and grasped her neck, guiding her up to stand before him. He cupped her face with blood-stained hands, and his thumb traced a wet path across her lips. 

 

“I read somewhere that we draw blood to feel alive.” Lowering his head close, he brushed his lips in an infuriatingly light kiss over hers, sparking a current that demanded a connection. Her skin buzzed with an electric pulse as their bodies drew together. 

“Tell me what you need,” he demanded. 

The seams of two worlds bled into one, just like their bodies were sealed together by a magnetic force too strong to resist—and the undertow dragged her under. She heard the echo of his voice inside her head. 

“Tell me what to do.” 

Panicked tears sprung to her eyes, her psyche unable to handle the onslaught as it tears an outlet. She clamped her eyelids shut, cutting the tears off. And in the dark, the terrifying images flooded in a deluge to assault her. 

They won’t stop. 

“Make it stop—” 

Beg me…” 

“God, John. Fuck me,” she said. “Fuck me out of my mind.” 

 

A fierce growl tore from the hollow of his chest, detonating on impact as his lips crashed against hers. The kiss rocked through her, leveling her senses. His lips were reckless and unforgiving as his mouth closed over hers with furious, brutal abandon meant to punish her for some sin. 

Marlena linked her wrists around his neck, yielding to the thrashing desire trying to claw through her chest. He pulled back and devoured her with his eyes. 

“Fuck… I’m going to tear into you, Blondie.” Then he captured her mouth again and bit into her bottom lip. Gripping the backs of her thighs, he hauled her into his arms. 

The knife hilt dug into her thigh as John carried her toward the nearest wall. His fingers sought her heated, wet folds as his mouth searched out the pulse point in her neck. 

The circlet shifted off-center as she arched against him, lifting her head to give him full access. As his fingers plundered around her seam, he bit her flesh, drawing forth a throaty moan. 

She was lost to the feel, vibrating on a charged current, all fear and illusive images chased into the shadows of her mind. And she let his frantic touches and feverish kisses hold them back like a dam. Her feet were placed to the earth while John kissed her sensually, stealing the last dregs of her breath. 

 

She didn’t realize what was happening until she felt coarse rope binding her wrists…then her arms were wrenched above her head. Her blood careened against her arteries. She struggled until John gripped her jaw. 

His eyes—raging blue flames—held her captive. 

 

“For my protection,” he said, and confusion drew her eyebrows together as he placed another searing kiss to her lips before he backed away. 

“Trust me.” 

She didn’t. 

She couldn’t trust him, not this version of ‘him’. Not ever—but all too soon her wrists were bound and tied to the shelf above her, and she was pushing against the tide again. 

 

The cuts on John’s palms were friction over her heated, sensitized flesh as he worshipfully caressed her breasts. He took her nipple into his mouth, teeth teasing the bud and sending her back to the safe harbor of her mind. The surrender consumed her. 

She trembled as he mapped every plane of her body, painting her skin like it was his canvas. He lowered to his knees and pulled her leg over his shoulder to spread her wide. 

 

She was darkness by the moonlight, wine and blood—and a soulless stranger was feasting on her flesh. But she’d never felt so protected, safe, and she gave in to the stir of frenzy. Her body rolled with the erotic flow of the current, her mind delving to where base desires flourish in the dark. 

As John ravished her body, the torrid flames ensnared her, until she felt the piercing bite of the blade break her skin. 

Breath bated, she looked down as he wielded the knife to carve her flesh. Her leg trapped against his shoulder, John marked the uppermost part of her inner thigh right below the seam of her leg. 

She moaned through the pain. 

The sharp cuts sent a shot of arousal to her core, slicing through the dull ache that encased her. Marlena watched in shocked awe as he shaped the sigil with the tip of the blade—the same design he carried on his back. 

“You’re mine,” he whispered across the inflamed skin. “Come back to me.” Then he licked the wound. His tongue traced the bloody lines of the sigil before he licked a path to the neediest part of her. She closed her eyes, her head falling back against the solid support of the wall. 

She let the wild emotions tear through her as John licked and sucked and devoured. She ground against his mouth in shameless, brazen undulations of her hips. His fingers pushed inside her with no preamble, and she sucked in a breath at the salaciously full feeling as her inner walls pulsed against his expert, rhythmic plunges. As his tongue swirled torturously over her clit, she turned her head to the side and panted against her arm. 

 

An intense pull in her lower back gripped her, that delicious tingling webs over her skin, and she clenched so hard around his fingers she almost broke. 

She was so wet, she could hear the sound as John removed his fingers, and she couldn’t help but look down. Her breath stalled as a cold prickling sensation sheathed her in alarm. The intensity of John’s hungry gaze met hers as he pushed his fingers into his mouth. The earth beneath her all but vanishes. 

That was not possible. 

She strained to see blood stemming from his palm or was it from her thigh—but all logical deduction ceased when she saw the trail of red dripping down her other leg. 

 

“How—?” Her voice broke around the word. 

“You’re mine, Marlena. You belong with me.” His fingers plunged inside her again, his mouth stealing her fear as his tongue flicked over her swollen clit. He lapped, sinfully devouring her and feasting on her. Any rational thought was too far out of reach. She couldn’t think about the accident or loss—so much loss—or the fact she was never supposed to bleed right now. Not when John was taking her to the edge, and not when the eerie sensation crept through her senses and dragged her gaze to the dark field. 

 

His savage growl preceded his advance as he rose to stand, capturing her in a brutal hold as he gripped the backs of her thighs. His pants were lowered, the need to be connected so demanding he didn’t waste time removing them. The smooth head of his cock notched against her soaked entrance. Her core clenched in anticipation. The ropes cut into her wrists as John lifted her effortlessly and wrapped her legs around his hips. 

A suspended second where their eyes connected, where she dissolved under the crashing wave of his heated, ravenous gaze, and he sank inside her in one forceful thrust. 

 

A cry ripped from her mouth as he filled her completely, the fullness, so intense a shiver racked her body. 

“Fuck…you’re perfect.” His praise rolled into a harsh groan as he pushed deep inside, spreading her walls to take all of him. She tensed, her inner walls contracting to hold him within her. His heavy breaths fell over her lips as he rocked out and thrust in once more. His pace speeded, his biceps flexed in stunning taut lines. He secured an arm around her lower back, angling her where he wanted her as he fucked brutally, passionately, giving her what she pleaded for—fucking her right out of her mind. 

No pain. 

No apathy. 

No dull ache burying her under her past. She was all blistering fire and honed pleasure and unadulterated lust. John clamped his other hand around her nape as he searched out the soft junction of her neck where he sank his teeth. 

Her body ground against his in desperate need to heighten the friction until they combust. 

 

A slur of profanities escaped his mouth on a deep groan. But it did something violent and dangerously erotic to her, and she moaned loudly against his ear. He sucked at her breast, trapping her nipple between his teeth. “You’re so goddamn perfect for me,” he said, his gaze flicking up to snare hers. 

 

“These beautiful breasts were created for me. This fucking perfect pussy—” he rut into her on a decimating thrust “—mine to destroy. Ah fuck, that’s it.” His thrusts speed faster, devastating her sanity. “I want to see how beautifully you come for me.” 

“John—” His name was a desperate plea as heat sneaked up her back, and every erogenous zone on her body lighted up. Her channel pulsated against him with the need for release. 

Oh, god. 

She turned her head to the side, seeking a cool breath to douse the stinging fire. The pending orgasm hurled through her spiraling fear as she frantically searched the darkness.

“John…” He grunted, hips bucking aggressively between her thighs to tear any lucid thought from her mind. Her inner walls clenched around him, driving him into a fury of wild thrusts. 

 

“Oh, god…John,” she cried out as the orgasm crashed through her, and John was there to answer. 

“Fucking see god, Blondie. You’re mine. Say it,” he demanded as he stared into her eyes. He was all carnal sin and lust as he relentlessly thrust inside her. 

“I’m yours,” she said, her voice broken by a moan as he rutted into her, stealing the last of her breath. John fucked with a savage frenzy as he claimed her. Rock-hard and engorged, his cock pulsed against her inner walls, and she felt the moment he broke. 

 

His growl vibrated over her skin, taking her over the edge with him. He lowered his head to her chest and bit the flesh of her breast, the pain tensing her around him and urging another orgasm as the pleasure peaked. She rode him with needy rolls of her hips as he thrust inside her once more, holding himself deep as the last of his orgasm throbs between them. 

 

As she came down, she scanned the room. John’s heated breath fanned her neck as he pants, his body trembling with aftershocks. She realized she was shaking, desperately trying to drag in enough air.

 

The moment had faded, everything was fuzzy around the edges. She blinked it away, finding John’s eyes. She shook her head. 

“Yes, this was not a dream, and you enjoyed it,” he read her mind.

“I didn’t,” she told him, controlling the tremble of her voice. A wisp of something dark and violent fumed in his eyes. 

“You lie so fucking pretty, Blondie.” 

A chill coasted her skin, but then he drew her close to him again. Despite the panic still flaring within her, she didn’t fight. His body heat was real, and it shielded her from the frigid night. 

He touched her face, gently stroking his thumb along her jaw. 

“You’re starting to like this new me,” he said, his terrifying words clashing with the comfort of his touch. “And that scares you. I know all about your nightmares, and the night of my accident..you pleaded to forget. I knew how to help you forget.” He releases a heavy breath, his gaze absorbing her, his hands clasping her face.

 “Come back to me, Marlena.” 

A collage of memories assaulted her mind, dragging her back down to the abyss…and she broke out of his hold. 

“I can’t…” she swallowed down the bile coating her throat. “This is…no.” She looked at the torn fabric of her dress on the floor as a fresh wave of panic rose. “I have to go.” She lifted her gaze to John, her next words dredged from her soul. “And I don’t know what the hell is happening to me, but I have to stop seeing you.” 

“No.” John issued the command with flashing eyes. “I didn’t suffer six months in a goddamn lab for you to do that now.” 

She pulled the fabric of her dress tighter around her. Her skin flamed and pulsed with every scrape, bruise, cut, and bite. 

“Have you?” she asked him, incredulous. Confusion drew her brows together. “God, John, I have say in the matter.” He lifted his chin defiantly. 

“I want to protect you,” he said, then he gingerly touched the tattoo inked on his back. “I had to trust you, if my will brought you to me the first time, it would bring you back. I had to have faith in the course. No matter where it led.” 

 

A startled laugh fell from her mouth. “That is insane. You don’t even know me! You don't even care enough to even try.” 

A snap of anger tightens his jaw. “And those who were seen dancing outside were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” He stalked right up to her and clasped her face. “You brought me the music, Blondie. And now you hear it, too.” 

Marlena latched on to his wrists. “Even I can’t explain away this madness.” 

 

He refused to release her, and panic welled in her chest. Heart slamming her rib cage, she pushed against his shoulders until he finally relented. Crossing his arms over his bare chest, he said, “I did what you asked of me. Because—for the first time in my goddamn life—I felt pain. Your pain.” He ate the distance between them; She couldn’t escape him. “I cut you and drew the sigil right here.” He traced a design over the delicate junction of her thighs. “Blood is a very personal charging method. But it was your will to forget.” She raked her nails through her hair. 

“This is insanity,” She whispered to herself. “What you’re experiencing is dissociative amnesia…repressed traumatic memory… Or a damn psychotic break.” 

“Call it what you want, Doctor. The terminology doesn’t change the facts.” 

 

Reaching for some rational thought, she marched to the wine bottle and grabbed it off the ground, it was empty, and she turned to place it on the dresser. She won’t be pulled into John’s delusions. 

“And when no reason can explain it away?” he asked, as if reading her rampaging thoughts. He located his discarded shirt and shoved his arms inside the sleeves. She met his eyes—eyes that she willingly fell into years ago, such as tonight, eyes that made her feel safe and worshiped despite drowning in fear. 

She craved his touch. 

She wanted his darkness to shelter her. 

 

She let herself go so completely…embracing emotions and sensations she hasn’t experienced in a very long time.

That was what the darkness would do. Eclipse them in the deepest recess of their mind, where every aching desire and needy, devious yearning was hidden. Sheltered, concealed from their conscious, they gave themselves over to the seduction. But light was always just moments away from spilling over their aftermath. 

 

John was her consequence, the ruin of her soul. 

The savior.

She held his deceptively beautiful gaze with what strength she had left. 

“Leave, John. Go home. Just…leave.” She couldn’t have her mistakes tainting her conscience. One of them had to fight for their future. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he said. A glimmer of vulnerability touched his eyes.

 “Don’t.” She realized that once John walked off this room, he could disappear. He could vanish and never be seen again. She was torn with how that possibility made her feel—whether John Black disappearing from her life would be a bad thing or a relief. John held her gaze with the severity of that very threat hovering between them. 

 

Marlena turned away and took measured steps toward the window while pulling her black dress back to her body. 

When she turned back around, John was gone.