“I’m sure, babe. I’m fully trained to handle things on my own. I do have a degree just like you, you know.” He moves a little closer so his hand rests on my hip.

A degree in kidnapping and how to fucking ruin people’s lives, is more like it!

              “I know you do. It’s just that last week was so damn hectic, and I feel bad.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just have a good time with my mom and enjoy yourself, babe.”

I know he wants me out of our office so he can do whatever the hell he does without any interruptions, but I let it go.

Trent tugs on my shirt to try and bring me a little closer to him. Rolling myself over so my back is to his front, I let him rub my hip. I squeeze my eyes shut but he doesn’t move them any farther north or south. When his hand stills on my hip and I hear his breathing start to even out, I lay as still as I possibly can until I know he is sound asleep.

Ever so slowly, I lift his hand off of me and slide over to the other side of the bed. He rolls a little, but doesn’t wake up. I can finally breathe as I lay there in the dark and stare through the window into the black, moonless night. I wonder if Turner is sleeping peacefully or if he is looking at the same dark sky as I am.

The stars are nonexistent tonight as they hide behind gray clouds. The dark doom of the night does nothing for my mood; if anything, it depresses me even more. Somehow my mind finds a way to shut down and my eyes drift closed, but even as I fall into a fitful sleep, something tells me that when I wake up I am not going to like this new day at all.

Chapter Thirteen

I must be dreaming, and it’s such a good dream. I’m being cradled in my husband’s arms as I feel his thick, hard erection running up and down the crack of my ass. I hear his sweet words of devotion and adoration as his hand comes around and firmly cups my breast while my ass presses into his cock.

And then I manage to push myself to the surface of reality. This isn’t a dream, and it’s not Turner who is up against me. It’s Trent. He is moaning and grinding into my ass. His hands run over it, fondling and caressing it with the light touch of a feather. He slips my panties to the side and slides his finger up and down my crack. I feel my body responding as his finger starts to rim the edges of my puckered entrance. My eyes spring open and before I know it, he has me flipped over and lying flat on my stomach.

“What are you doing?” I squeak.

“I woke up with my dick so fucking hard from the best dream I have had in a long time.”

I’m still slightly groggy from sleep so I inhale deeply, swallowing the burning feeling in my throat and forcing my mind to catch up and comprehend his intentions. I can only imagine what this dream has to do with. All of a sudden, it hits me. Oh, shit! Trent wants to fuck me in the ass!

It’s as if he wants to control and stake claim to every part of my body. I cannot allow this to happen. I won’t. I can’t.

“Turner, stop,” I demand.

I pull away from him so we are face to face.

“I don’t want to stop, Clove.”

He gently skates his free hand all the way up the side of my stomach and over my breast, and with one finger, trails up the center of my chest until he reaches my chin. He cups it for just a few moments. Moving over to my cheek, his smooth hands stroke tenderly.

The room is eerily quiet as he continues to stroke my cheek. If I didn’t know who this man was, I would think he truly cared by the way his touch is making me feel. It’s a loving and caring touch, touches to calm me and soothe me, to convince me to let him do this. This is something I have never done before, and if I did, I would want it to be with the man I love.

I am scared out of my ever-loving mind to have this man touch me in one of my most intimate places. I close my eyes and again bring Turner’s face into my mind, but the fucked up, twisted thing about picturing Turner’s face is that I am also seeing Trent. Fuck me!

Can I conjure up enough strength to do this? It’s all a part of the long road to get to the eye of this shit storm I am living in. Anything and everything I have to endure and go through is all for one simple word. Love. I love my husband and I need him back. I need to know he is safe and alive, even though every part of my ruptured and bleeding heart will be smashed into a million pieces, never to be put back together again.

“Are you with me baby? You’re quiet and shaking.”

In different circumstances the lightness in his voice would make me feel more at ease with this, save for the fact these circumstances have been brought on by his actions. Nothing he says or does will make this any easier on myself.

“I’m just scared, Turner. This is something we have never done before. Is this what your dream was about?”

I tilt my head to side even though he cannot see me.

“Yes it was. I woke up with this massive hard on wanting so badly to finish what we started in my dream. For me to claim your sweet, round ass. For me to claim every part of you, Clove. I need this. Together we can make this feel so fucking good for the two of us.”

Fuck, that is what this is all about. He wants to claim me and mark me in a spot where Turner has never been. He’s a sick fuck who scares the living hell out of me. What if I say no? What will he do?

I lie here in the dark with my enemy with my emotions going back and forth. I’m as twisted and fucked up as he is. Do I believe he won’t make me do anything I don’t want to do? Yes. I believe it. Not because he seriously doesn’t want to. The reason is simple. Whatever plan he has been working hard at isn’t complete yet and just like me he has to do everything he can to keep his game heading in the right direction.

This man can fuck, and he fucks well. Sex isn’t a game, though, and neither is fucking someone in her most intimate place. Oh, God, please forgive me for the way I am thinking right now. How can I hate someone so much, and yet the mere thought of him fucking me sends a thrill spiraling through my body which arrows straight to my throbbing pussy.

Consequences be damned. I want this. Whatever carnal drug he has slipped into my warped brain has me willing to burn in the fiery depths of hell just to experience the pleasure I know awaits me. My core clenches and my ass begs for his touch.

Clove Calloway no longer exists in this moment. She has been replaced by a woman I don’t recognize. Two minutes ago, that other Clove was scared to death of the thought of this stranger touching her there, wishing and hoping it was her husband instead. But now, the thought of what is coming, of him doing something to me that no one has ever done before, has me dripping wet.

I spread my legs and lie back on the bed, hearing him gasp as soon as my head hits the pillow.

              “Is this a yes?” he asks with hushed excitement.

“Yes.”

His hands trail down the back of my leg until they hit the curve of my ass. Without any warning, he grabs my panties and rips them off my body, making me shudder.

“Fuck, Clove. Do you have any idea how good this is going to feel for both of us? I promise to make it so good for you, babe. You will be begging me to fuck this sweet, tight ass of yours every chance we get once we’re done.”

His hands graze across my pussy as he slides one finger in and with precision starts to stroke me until I am lifting my ass up and pressing myself as far as I can go onto his hand.

              “You are so damn responsive. I love that about you, Clove.”

Out of the blue he stops his assault on my core, moving his hand to my rosebud and coating the outside with my wetness. He repeats this action several times teasingly as he dips his finger into me and then back out again, lubricating the rim of my ass until unexpectedly I feel the tip of his finger dip inside my dark hole. My first instinct is to push his finger right back out. I pinch my eyes shut trying to overcome this intrusion as he sinks his finger in further and further.