“Adam, the kids!” I manage through a hissed breath, but then I’m squeezing my eyes tightly and squirming to avoid yet another punishing swat. He presses further on me to keep me still and then his hand reaches around the front of me to once again pull the string that keeps my bottoms up. I whimper and wish they wouldn’t betray me by slumping down my legs so easily—again.
“I just checked. They’re asleep.” The spoon stings and bites my flesh and I have to lower my mouth to my forearm to cry out into it. I can’t wake the kids. I try to drop to avoid another punishing swat, but when I do, he pins me tighter. His swats increase and I start to sob dryly. He tosses the spoon in the sink and straightforwardly pulls my pants up. He spins me to face him, tying the strings quickly.
“That was just a taste of what’s coming.” His words bite out through clenched teeth. He clasps my chin between a finger and thumb again and even though I can see he’s trying to ignore my tears there’s compassion in his eyes, too. “You are getting a hell of a thrashing when I get you alone.” I nod through blurring eyes. “I’ve never been so worried in my whole God-damned life!”
“Okay. I’m sorry,” I say with a shudder. His hard look melts and he pulls me into his chest. He kisses my head and leans down to whisper into the crook of my neck.
“You undo me, Daniela Torkaz. I don’t know how or why, but you do.” He pulls back and looks me in the eye. “I waited at your bus stop half the night,” he croaks, and I can’t help but dissolve into tears and snuggle as deep as I can into him. “Clara made a fortune.”
This time, when he pulls me back, I cling like an octopus. “Please,” I beg. “Don’t go. I need you.” I let out a small desperate cry. “I fight it, Adam, fight it so hard, but I do. God, I do! I need you.”
He grabs both my shoulders and lifts me to my toes so he can take my mouth. His is hot and demanding, and I yield to his forceful lips and tongue. I’m molten and dizzy with want. I grab for his clothes, and he handcuffs my wrists like he did before with one hand.
He shoves me roughly against his gargantuan high-end refrigerator keeping my hands pinned above my head and torments a nipple through my t-shirt making me writhe. His mouth follows and heat blast through both the material and my core. His hand burrows in my hair and yanks my face to his. As our mouths mate, he releases my wrists and grabs my sore ass with both hands pulling me up, so my center presses against his hard bulge. I bury my hands in his hair, and his face burrows into my neck. I’m ready to combust when I hear the big bag of blocks crash onto the floor.
“The kids. The kids!” I whisper urgently. He drops my legs and cocks his brow. Adam’s gaze isn’t aimed at the living room where I’m sure Charlie is knee deep in blocks. It’s aimed at me.
