Page 72 of Lavender Moon

His physical therapy has been going better than expected, although the therapist is still encouraging him to stay on the crutches. But Kaleb being Kaleb ditched them days ago and has only been mildly struggling with the cane. He finally tosses it down to the floor so that he can tackle his tie with both hands.

“That was a beautiful service,” I say softly, testing the waters as I reach behind my neck to undo the button at the back of my dress.

“Yeah, putting Alex in the ground was just fucking peachy,” he snarls under his breath.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” I sigh as I lift up my skirt to wrestle with the itchy as hell black tights, working them down my hips.

“No, you’re right,” he says facetiously as he whips his jacket down his shoulders as if it’s covered in cold slime. “It was really beautiful seeing his mom get handed a folded-up flag instead of her son back. All the while the rest of his family fawns over me like I’m some kind of hero.”

The way he’s talking right now is enough to make me sick, and sadly, it’s not the first time. I’ve been getting a steady diet of this the last couple weeks. Not only has he not laid off the pain pills, but I swear they make him surly as fuck. Don’t get me wrong, he’s been no prince in the first place, but I definitely notice a difference when he has a hefty dose on board. And then when they wear off, he seems lost and restless. He’s hooked.

“Kaleb, I know you don’t feel much like a –”

“I accomplished nothing over there, Luna,” he gripes out, furiously going to work on the buttons of his shirt. “Story of my fucking life. Couldn’t afford college so thought I’d make something of myself in the military, and what do I have to show for it? A dead best friend whose body I couldn’t even bring home myself because I was too busy getting my damn leg babied in a hospital.” He concludes his rant by shucking his shirt down his bare, tatted shoulders.

I, in the meantime, take off my necklace and watch while schooling my emotions, keeping them in check.

“Okay,” I say so quietly I practically mouth it. “I don’t want to fight. But I do hope one day you won’t feel that way,” I say before padding over to him and turning my back. “Unzip me?” I request, signaling that I’m letting this go. He seems to go still behind me and I hear nothing but a couple of his breaths being let in and out before I feel his fingers graze the back of my neck, taking hold of the zipper. He trails it down slowly at first, the material yawning open, revealing the bare skin of my back. It feels sensual and almost sweet, until he reaches dead center and gives the zipper a voracious yank the rest of the way down, making me gasp lightly in surprise. In my next breath, he’s shoving the dress down my arms before drawing me back against him, one arm crossed over my chest.

His teeth nip at my earring while he palms one of my breasts, squeezing harder than his usual pressure. I know what’s happening. I’ve always let him take out his aggressions through sex with me, and that’s clearly what he’s instigating now.

With his free hand, Kaleb works my dress the rest of the way down my hips, along with my panties, before letting his fingers dive between my legs, stroking my clit.

“Come on, babe, get wet for me,” he growls in my ear and I close my eyes, trying to get in the mood. I’m normally happy to let him do this, but this moment feels different than the others. I’ve let him be rough, but there’s still always some kind of tender concern behind his actions. I’m torn between shutting him down due to lack of arousal or giving him what he needs.

Slowly, I start riding his fingers back and forth, trying to get my body and mind to tune in with each other

“I need you to get wet for me and take your soldier’s cock,” he grunts again, releasing his crushing grip on my breast and using that hand to work on his belt while continuing to rub me. “Need you to take it like a good girl.”

“Mm-hmm,” I nod, letting his dirty words take me there as I feel the warm skin of his dick brush against my ass, free from its confines. He keeps rubbing my clit and it’s a little too much pressure for my liking, but I’m starting to finally get a little wet – just in time for him to grip my neck, way too hard, and thrust me down on the bed.

The front of my body connects with the mattress hard enough to make the breath whoosh out of me, and before I can even react, Kaleb is crawling on top of me. He takes hold of my hips, his grip bruising as he straddles my legs, putting all his weight on his right knee.

After taking barely a second to position himself, Kaleb slams into me without ceremony and takes right off, thrusting into me fast and hard. He grunts and growls between brutal, punishing strokes.

“Oh yeah,” he rasps through his ramming. “Fuck…”

I swear this is different from all the other times I’ve let him have angry sex with me. There’s a coldness behind it this time, and I don’t like it. It feels like he’s somewhere else and I can’t get into it with him, and it’s even scaring me a little.

“Fuck…” Kaleb’s voice has turned to a whisper. “Fucking stop… stop!” He grits out.

“K?” I check in with him but it’s like he doesn’t hear me.

“Fucking stop! No!” He grunts, pummeling me harder and taking me by the throat and pulling back.

Oh my God, he’s not Kaleb right now, this needs to stop. I frantically bring my hand up, clawing at his, and thankfully get my fingers beneath his before he can squeeze, giving me just enough leeway in my windpipe to scream.

“Stop!” I shriek. The word is a drawn-out shrill that echoes off the walls and I feel Kaleb jolt on top of me before throwing himself off me as if my skin were burning his.

I cough only a couple of times and after gasping just once, the breath flows through my airway normally.

I swallow hard and lift my head to find Kaleb right in my face as his hands roam over my body, my face, as if checking me for injuries.

“Lu? Babe?” His voice is panicked but his eyes are a beautiful light green, harboring regret and concern. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” Those eyes practically plead for forgiveness.

“I’m okay.” The words are betrayed by my trembling body. I’m shaking and I can’t suppress it.

“Fuck, what did I do to you?” He cups my face in his hands and brings his lips to my forehead. “I don’t know what happened,” he murmurs painfully against my skin.

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