Page 21 of Four Calling Birds

“Tell me,” I commanded, kissing the other temple as another tear slid down.

She sniffled, then swallowed.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you children.” Her voice was so faint that I could barely hear her. But I didn’t move. “I’m sorry I came between you and your father.” My ear was so close to her lips, and I didn’t want to miss a word. “I’m sorry that I’ll lose you for it.”

“You don’t need to,” I clenched my fists, feeling that familiar anger. “And I couldn’t give a shit what my father thought.”

“It was theonlything you wanted. The only requirement you had before we got married. You wanted children, and…”

“That was before!” I barely kept from punching the mattress. The sudden rise of my anger flooded my body, adrenaline coursing through my veins. “I don’t care anymore. I don’t! I just want my wife.”

She shook her head. It was an insane, fast shake of almost disbelief. “You’ll regret it if you…”

“No!” I yelled from somewhere in my gut. A desperate, angry cry that I wished she’d understand.

And this time, I gave in to the urge, my fist hitting the mattress hard close to her head. She turned her head to the side, her slender hand coming to her lips. Her fingers shook as she tried to hide the little sob that was trying to burst out.

I hated myself for my fucking outburst. But I knew she wasn’t scared of me. That wasn’t why she was crying. She wept because she was mine. Because she loved me. Because she didn’t want to go. So I would make it hard for her. I would make it impossible for her to walk away.

I pressed my cock against her entrance, the tip desperately pulsing to find its target. I cupped her face, turning her back to me so that we were nose to nose.

“That was before,” I whispered. “Don’t you understand? Yes, I wanted a family. Butyouwere my family. Youaremy family. I don’t need anything or anyone else.”

“No.” She shook her head again. “I don’t want to be around when you resent me… that would… kill me.”

“You’re killing me by leaving.” I felt my own tear slipping down my nose, landing on her bottom lip.

I couldn’t wait anymore. I needed to claim her. I needed to complete the act that sealed us as man and wife. And maybe that was insane. It didn’t make any logical sense. But something in me thought that was how all of this worked. My body was pleading for me to claim her in this primitive way.

“I put a wedge between you and your parents…”

“Fuck if I care,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about them when I’m about to be inside you.”

With a slow thrust of my hips, my swollen cock buried into her soft, wet heat. I slid my arms under her shoulders, pulling her closer to me. Her forehead fell into the crook of my neck, as her hands grasped around my back. We tugged at each other, needing as much contact as possible. I put a hand on her thigh, wrapping her around my waist. She crossed her legs at the ankles, her hips lifting to meet mine.

“Sweet wife.” I took the lobe of her ear into my mouth, gently sucking on it until her head tilted backwards in pleasure.

I pistoned my hips, trying to keep the pace slow. Trying to savor the closeness. The pain. The desperation. The love… I wanted to feel it all. To feel all the torment and pleasure that came from being her husband.

“You do care. You always care about everything and everyone.” She shook her head. Maybe it was to emphasize her words, or to shake out the sudden intensity as our bodies joined. “It was better if I just… if I stopped being a problem for you. I wanted to… oh!”

I thrust into her to shut her up. I didn’t care to hear anymore.

“I love you,” I confessed, as my fingers dug into the skin of her back, feeling that little scar at the center.

She dug her nails into my shoulder in response, pulling me at me until there was no air between us.

“I love you,” I said again. “Do you hear me? I love you.”

“I love you!” she wept, her mouth trembling against my chest. “I love you so much, William McClanahan.”

“I love you too, Charlotte McClanahan.” It was cathartic to say her name. Herpropername, after I had mentally forced myself to think of her as Charlotte Rowen. A maiden name that didn’t fit her anymore. “Charlotte McClanahan.” I was whispering her name, again and again, hoping that if I repeated it enough, she would own it.

“Yes,” she whispered in a light laugh. “I was never going to change my name. I couldn’t… let go of it.”

“Then don’t let go of me,” I growled. The anger was bubbling up again. I thrust in again. My hips slammed into hers, and she moved on the mattress with the impact. I had alwaysdesperatelytried not to hurt her. I had rarely buried myself to the hilt, because my tip pushed her walls, until it pushed too far. I was just a little too long for her body. I was always scared of bruising her on the inside… But this time, I didn’t hold back. I bottomed out, and then some. Because I wanted to be selfish now. I had to mark her. To leave my teeth marks on her skin again and again until they became as permanent as those scars.

“Fuck!” she said as I slammed in again. Her eyes shot open, her head fell back, she sucked in air, her fingers clawing into my skin. “God damn!”

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