This may be a little disturbing to some.
Their kiss deepened, and Sandy's hand curled around Kirsten's back to bring her in closer to him. She obliged, moving so her body was along the length of his. She ran her hands down to brush his thighs, fingers feather light. Sandy nibbled on her neck, moved down to rake his teeth over her collarbone. He caught sight of her neck, the darkening bruise, growing like a storm. It reminded him of the other bruises on her. He wondered if she liked it rough. Whether she preferred it that way, but had never told him. Sandy stilled her hands, looked at her through the water running off her hair. Her eyes looked innocent, searched his, wondered what the hold up was. Sandy pushed her back against the wall, pinning her there with his body. Kirsten reached her hands to twine them around his neck, but Sandy captured them, held them over her head. They remained like that for a moment, eyes searching each other's, seeking and probing each other's thoughts. Kirsten leant in and kissed Sandy, biting his bottom lip as she pulled back. She let go before she drew blood, but it was enough for him. Sandy kissed her back, his tongue entwining with hers, withdrawing before he felt teeth. She sucked on his bottom lip as she lifted her leg to wrap around him, allowing him to enter. Usually, they made love slowly and gently, but this was more sex than anything, a release for both of them. Sandy thrust into her, not worrying that he'd hurt her. Kirsten whimpered but wrapped her other leg around him, allowing him deeper entry. Sandy took out his anger at her on her, pounding himself into her, holding her arms above her head so she couldn't move. Kirsten arched her back and rocked her pelvis in time to him, while moving her head down to bite his collarbone. The sound of their breathing was dulled by the shower. Kirsten moved her head back up so she could seek out Sandy's lips. He kissed her hungrily, pushed his upper body in against hers so she was completely flat against the wall. His teeth grazed down her neck, raising goosebumps on her despite the hot water temperature. He stopped at her breast, nibbled at her nipple before using his teeth to squeeze. He heard Kirsten's gasp over the water, felt her involuntarily squeeze her legs tighter around him. Sandy pushed into her, felt himself go, kept himself inside her as far as he was for several moments longer, waiting for their breathing to slow. He let go of Kirsten's arms and they dropped to his shoulders, to help her stay in place. She nestled against him, perfectly fit, cradled into his shoulder. Her hair, long and wet, flowed over his back with the water. He could feel her lips on his throat, her legs still tensed around him, her breasts moving against him with every breath. He hated what she'd done, but he understood why she'd done it, what she'd been thinking at the time. He knew, when he'd taken Seth's call and heard about the carjacking, that there was no way he could live without this woman in his life. In that one moment, with the rush of protectiveness that had overtaken him, he knew he would never not love her. Not this, not anything, could make him stop loving her. He'd fallen in love with her at first sight, something she claims he couldn't have done since she was lying outside the mail truck she called home with ripped jeans and morning-after hair. But he had.
"I love you." Sandy said, wondering whether she heard him. He felt her lips smile against his neck, felt the vibrations of her words flow through him.
"I love you."
Slowly, Sandy withdrew, supported her til her legs found some strength. Kirsten leant away so she could look at him, and Sandy's eyes immediately found her lip. It was bleeding slightly. Kirsten moved her finger up to feel the damage. She turned her head up so that the spray of the water could wash the blood off. Her cheek had stopped bleeding, was now an angry looking layer of dried blood. Her wrist, when she had lifted it to check her lip, was red with Sandy's hand marks.
"Are you… Are you going to stay tonight?" Kirsten looked hopeful. Sandy took her in; his bruised and bleeding wife. He turned her in his arms, took in the red marks running the length of her back that would surely turn to bruising, where she had been pressed against the shower wall. He saw red marks on her inner thighs, on her collarbone, on her breasts.
"Baby, I'm sor-" Kirsten's fingers came to rest on his lips, stilling them.
"Just say you'll stay." Kirsten looked at him till he nodded, smiled at him and leaned in for a kiss. Sandy reached around her and turned off the water. The hot was starting to run out. They were left in a silent bathroom, with the sound of the water dripping off them all that could be heard. Steam billowed, began dropping to the floor in misty twists. Sandy stepped out of the shower first, reached for a towel to wrap Kirsten in. She took it from him, modestly wrapped herself before she watched him dry himself.
Sandy wrapped the towel around his waist and ran his hands through his wet hair. There was a sudden awkwardness between them. Kirsten solved it by taking his hand and leading him into the bedroom. The drapes were down, the doors closed. Kirsten pulled back the doona and crawled into bed, still towelled. She patted the bed beside her and Sandy came over to her, lay down beside her. Kirsten reached an arm around his back, moved herself closer to him so their breaths were intermingled and their faces were only inches apart.
"I love you, Sandy." Her face was softened by the steam from the shower, her hair starting to dry and curl. She reminded him so much of the girl he'd first fallen in love with, that Sandy felt some of the anger and hurt he'd carried around since she'd told him find release. It wasn't all of it, wasn't close, but Sandy knew it was a start.
This story started as one line; she looked over the ocean. It's still saved as that on my computer. I wasn't sure it would ever be finished, but here we are… I hope the ending wasn't too depressing in a he-came-back-I-knew-this-would-happen way. They work too well together. Let's not kid ourselves; they're soul mates. Thank you to everyone who has been leaving feedback for this and who has kept reading all the way through. You guys make this loveless addiction a whole lot more worthy!
A note about spelling and such: I'm an Aussie. We don't say napkin, it's serviette. And we sure as hell don't say panties. It's underwear or undies. Or grundies, if you're being a yokel about it. I've spelt Mom the American way, since Kirsten is a mother in America. I'd just like to point out that we spell it Mum. And do American's say doona? Blanket, people.