'Til Death - Part 2 Read online

  Only . . . I don’t resent him. I fucking love him and that’s why this hurts so damned much.

  “Katia,” he says in a low, scratchy tone.

  I turn. I can’t look at him. I can’t face him. If I do he’ll see the tears. The disappointment. The loss. All of it. All of it, a result of what we created for ourselves. I can never take back what was done and neither can he, but it burns. It fucking burns to my very core. It burns because I want it to be okay. I want him in my life. I want him in hers.

  And there’s a good chance that’ll never be.

  His fingers curl around my shoulder just as a slow, beautiful song fills the room. I close my eyes, trying to calm myself. His fingers run down my arm, stopping at my hand. He grips it and turns me slowly until I’m facing him. I look up into his eyes and my heart feels as if it’s going to take a leap right out of my chest.

  “Don’t think that I wouldn’t fix this if I could.”

  If I could.

  “But I don’t know if something so toxic can be fixed.”

  Toxic.

  “If I knew what I know now back then, I would have never let any of this happen. This is on me, Katia. I have to live with not having the family I always wanted because of my selfish, fucked-up heart.”

  Family he always wanted.

  “You’re fuckin’ precious, Katia. I drove you to consider murder. Do you really believe what we have right here is a healthy, beautiful environment for that little girl?”

  I don’t want to admit it. I don’t.

  I won’t.

  “If that’s what you want,” I whisper, dropping my eyes. “Then it’s settled.”

  “Look at me.”

  I don’t.

  “Katia, fuckin’ look at me.”

  I lift my eyes and connect my gaze with his. We stare at each other for so long my legs begin to tremble. I want to say something—I just don’t know what it is I want to say. I agree? I don’t agree? I love you? I fucking hate you? A tear rises up and trickles down my cheek, and he catches it with his thumb before gliding it over my cheek to my bottom lip.

  “Dance with me,” he says, pulling us back.

  “Marcus.”

  “Dance with me.”

  He wraps his body around mine, puts his hands on my hips, and I can’t help but raise my hands to lock around his neck. My fingers find a stray piece of hair at the very base of his neck and I twist it around as we begin to move across the living room floor. We’re moving softly to the song “Feels Like Home” and the words cling to me in a way I know I’ll never be able to detach.

  His eyes are on mine.

  Mine are on his.

  And there is nobody else in this room but the two of us. Just him and me. There are no problems here. No issues. No monsters lurking behind the curtains. It’s just us, an us I always wanted us to be. More tears slide down my cheeks, because the sudden realization that I’m going to lose this man hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest.

  He stares down at me as if he wants to devour me, as if he doesn’t want this to be the last time we’re together, but there’s something in his expression that tells me he’s doing this purely because he needs it as much as I do before it’s finished . . . before this . . . is over. He reaches up, stroking my tears again, then his thumb glides over my bottom lip and we both make a gasping sound.

  We both want this.

  That much is one hundred percent clear.

  With that thought lodged into my mind, Marcus leans down and captures my mouth in a hungry, frenzied kiss. I groan, closing my eyes as I remove my hands from his neck and slide them over his body. I need this. Just once more. His tongue glides out, torturing mine before disappearing back into his mouth, leaving me wanting more.

  “Marcus,” I breathe, wrenching my mouth from his and pressing my cheek to his chest.

  “Fuck,” he groans.

  Screw it.

  I lift my mouth to his again and this time the kiss is deep and slow, like the kiss we should have shared in the hospital, like a damned kiss should be. Real. Pure. Perfect. His hands tangle around my hips and he hauls me forward, bringing my body to his. I can feel his erection against my belly as he backs me to the wall.

  “Not against the wall,” I whimper. “Please, Marcus. It’s always hard, rough, and against a wall.”

  He removes me instantly and lets me go. I stand on wobbly legs and watch as he walks over to a large chest and flings it open. He brings out a warm, fluffy cover and lays it on the ground in front of the window. Then he turns and gives me the most molten, devastating stare. My legs can’t carry me fast enough towards him, and the moment I reach him, we’re on the ground, tangled in each other, mouths crushed together.

  Marcus’s hands move down over my body, tracing down my sides and gently stroking until he reaches my dress. He lifts it and I shift so he can get it off, then his mouth is back on mine, sliding down my jaw and neck until he reaches my collarbone. My head drops back and I moan as his mouth continues down. He finds my breasts, and I can feel his hot breath through my bra.

  “Fuck,” he murmurs.

  In a split second, my bra is gone and his mouth is covering my nipple. I arch and cry out his name as he inflicts pure torture on my body. His hands move down at the same time and grip my hips. After my whimpered plea, he reaches for my panties. He moves with them as he slides them down my legs. Then he’s staring at my naked body with a hungry, desperate look on his face.

  “I want to fuck you, Katia. But first I want to taste you.”

  He takes my knees, slowly lifting them. Then he pushes them apart before lowering his body down until he’s between my legs, his hot breaths coming out in short bursts against my exposed pussy. I groan, reaching up to tangle my fingers in my own hair. “Marcus,” I plead. “Please.”

  He teases me with his breath and his presence alone until I’m squirming and begging with no shame. Then he closes his mouth over my clit and goes to work. And when I say he goes to work, I mean he goes to work. His mouth moves over my clit, occasionally sucking it in. Then he moves down, plunging his tongue inside me before moving back up for more torture.

  I come shamefully fast, my fingers curled into the blanket beside me, my back arched, screaming his name. He’s over me, naked, in a matter of minutes. He plunges his tongue into my mouth and I can taste myself, and I love it, I fucking love it. My fingers find the skin on his back and I drag my nails down his skin, making him groan, low and deep.

  “Keep doing that, this won’t last.”

  “I don’t care,” I mewl.

  He flips us over so I’m straddling him. “Baby, I do.”

  He grinds my pussy against his straining cock, rubbing it up and down, collecting my arousal and rubbing it over his skin. I groan and stare down at his cock. It’s hard, red, and looks like it’ll explode. I don’t hesitate. I reach down, shift, and slide myself down onto it. He gasps out my name and I cry out his as I sink slowly down onto his throbbing dick.

  Fuck. Yes.

  “Marcus,” I breathe.

  “Fuck,” he growls. “Fuck.”

  I rock my hips, sliding up and down, grinding into him. My breaths come out in short, hard bursts, and God, it feels amazing.

  “Fuck, I need it deeper.”

  He flips me over, spreading my legs wide and thrusting back inside me. He braces his elbow beside my head, his other hand tangled in my hair, and he fucks me. He doesn’t fuck me hard or even slow—he just fucks me real nice, a deep thrust of his hips that has me coming so hard and fast it slows his pace.

  “Jesus,” he grinds out. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

  He pulls out, flipping me to my hands and knees. He runs a hand slowly down my spine and then he drives his cock deep into my sensitive flesh. He rides me like that, his hands on my hips, his cock driving into me from behind. We’re like wild animals, grunting and groaning, heads thrown back.

  “Coming baby,” he growls. “Fuck, I’m coming.”

  “Oh God, M
arcus,” I scream.

  On a convulsion, we explode together. Marcus roars my name and I whimper his. When we come down, we’re both panting. We flop down beside each other and he pulls me over onto his sweat-coated chest. I can hear his heart pounding against my cheek.

  “Some things never change,” I whisper.

  “No,” he agrees. “They don’t.”

  “Did you think this would be how we ended?”

  He flinches, and the finger that just started tickling my back, stops.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Katia. So this . . . this is fuckin’ heaven.”

  I clench my jaw, trying to push down the hurt rising in my chest. “Is there any way this can work?”

  “Not with this Marcus, and that Katia,” he says, tapping my shoulder. “Those two are fucked up.”

  I close my eyes. Pain radiates through my body.

  “I never thought I’d feel anything but hatred for you, Marcus,” I whisper. “After everything, I thought that was it. I never thought I’d see you like this again . . . but here we are . . .”

  “Then at least we ended this without hatred. For our daughter, that’s the best we could do.”

  “Love sucks,” I mutter.

  “Better to have loved and lost . . .” he says softly.

  “Then to have never loved at all,” I finish for him.

  He chuckles softly. “Never thought you’d know that one.”

  “Come on, I’m not that young.”

  His arm tightens around me. “Tell me about Penny.”

  “What do you want to know?” I ask.

  “Anything. Just tell me.”

  I smile and close my eyes. “I remember the first time I saw her. All I could think is, of course nature would make her look so damned beautiful and so much like you.”

  He snorts. “I see so much of you in her.”

  “She’s more you. I saw it the moment she came out. It was so hard, so emotional, but she saved me.”

  He’s silent for a long time. “I’m glad for that.”

  “She was such a good baby, even when we had nothing. She was always so happy. Mom loved her.”

  “I’m sorry about your mom, baby,” he murmurs. “She was a good woman.”

  “She was,” I whisper. “But she was hurting, and it wasn’t fair for her.”

  “No. Life can be a bastard like that, can’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  We both lie in silence for a while before Marcus speaks again. “There was a night in all of it for me,” he says, low. “A night that broke my heart completely.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I was drunk, drugged, and God knows what else. I came to on a bed with this woman trying to get some.”

  I stiffen.

  He continues. “Mack came in, threw her out, and I lost it. I told him you could never know and he told me you were gone. I fuckin’ lost it, so bad. I was pathetic, and desperate, and fuckin’ lonely. Jaylah saw it all, and you know what she said?”

  “Tell me,” I breathe.

  “She said ‘That poor man.’ And I could feel her pity to my very core.”

  I flinch. “I didn’t know you were so hurt.”

  “I fucked up,” he mutters. “I just didn’t realize how much until you were gone. If I could go back and start again, believe me I would.”

  “Would you sacrifice everything?”

  He pulls me in closer. “To have you, baby? I’d sacrifice any-fucking-thing.”

  Why is life such a bitch?

  Why is love even worse?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  KATIA

  “Fuck, baby,” Marcus groans.

  I wrap my hand around his cock, stroking softly as my mouth devours him. God, he feels good. I suck, my cheeks hollowing as I take him in as deep as I can. His fingers are tangled in my hair and the hot water of the shower is streaming down my naked, beautifully sore body. Marcus had taken me three times during the night. Once hard and fast, one soft and slow, and once almost lazily, just a mass of hands and mouths, and whisper-soft touches.

  Now we’re in the shower and I want him again, just once more.

  “God damn it, I’m going to come,” he hisses.

  A moment later, hot cum spurts into the back of my throat. I groan with joy as I swallow each drop, and relish in the feeling of his fingers tightening against my scalp as his body jerks with pleasure. Then he slips his cock out of my mouth and reaches down, lifting me up under my arms and bringing my body flush against his.

  “I don’t think I can come again,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my neck.

  “Me either,” I whisper.

  “Shame. I was going to suck that sweet clit again.”

  I laugh softly. “I don’t think my clit can take it.”

  “Then it’s time for you to get some sleep.”

  I yawn. It must be late, even early morning. “I texted Candy and she said Penny is fine, so can I stay until morning?”

  “Baby,” he murmurs. “It is morning.”

  I yawn again.

  “Come on, get some sleep.”

  He pulls me out and wraps a towel around me. We make it to the bedroom. I drop the towel and slide in his bed. I realize it’s the first time I’ve ever slept in this bed, and my heart clenches. Maybe Marcus is right; maybe love isn’t enough. I’d never lie in this bed and not think about it. I’d never see this house and not feel pain.

  All of this is just too much.

  Perhaps things really do happen for a reason.

  ~*~*~*~

  MARCUS

  I stare down at the papers in my hand, then at the girl sleeping in my bed and I know it’s what I have to do.

  For her. For Penny.

  It might not seem right, hell, it seems completely fucked up, but it’s for the best.

  It’s me doing the right thing.

  She won’t understand yet, but she will.

  Someday.

  ~*~*~*~

  KATIA

  When I wake in the morning, I’m groggy. I roll to my side with a groan, and even though I had a deep, fairly long sleep, I feel exhausted. I sit up, running my fingers through the tangle of mess that my hair is. I peer around the room. Marcus isn’t here. I reach over and put my hands against the sheets. It’s cold.

  He hasn’t been here for a while.

  My heart sinks a little, but I figure maybe he couldn’t sleep, so maybe he’s working. I slip out of the bed and pad into the bathroom. I splash my face, fix my hair and then head back out. Once I’ve found my clothes, I make my way towards the door but stop when I see a yellow envelope propped up on the desk with my name on it. My heart kicks up a notch as I near, wondering what’s inside.

  I lift it with trembling fingers and slide it open. What I see has all my hopes crashing down. I place a hand over my heart, trying to catch my breath. It’s another set of divorce papers, and there’s a tiny, horrible note attached. A note that crushes me. A note that ruins all my hope. It has six words, six simple words.

  I’m sorry. It’s for the best. M.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  KATIA

  It’s Wyatt that has his arms around me, soothing me, even though it’s not his place to do so after watching what a crazy person I’ve become in the last month. But here he is, being a good brother, fixing things that he doesn’t or shouldn’t have to fix. My heart is broken for so many reasons. It’s breaking for my mom, it’s breaking for Penny, it’s breaking for Marcus, and it’s breaking for love lost.

  “This is for the best, Katia. You have to know that.”

  I nod into his chest. Just because I know it doesn’t mean it feels any better. It still hurts. It still aches. It still makes everything feel empty. There are so many emotions swirling inside me, and I can’t make sense of any of them. Do I stay? Do I go? Do I leave my daughter near her father or do I start again? I know staying here is the kindest, most logical thing to do, but can I really watch him move on without me?<
br />
  No.

  “What am I going to do, Wyatt?” I whisper.

  “You’re going to get divorced, you’re going to get a job, you’re going to get some help, and then you’re going to pick yourself up and fix this, Katia.”

  “And if I can’t?”

  “You can.”

  I stare over at the papers sitting on my bed, and I know I have to sign them. For everybody, I know it’s what I have to do. Wyatt lets me go and I stand on shaky legs, still staring at the papers.

  “Sign them, Sis, and end this.”

  I close my eyes, trying not to remember how amazing it felt when Marcus was wrapped around me, when his body consumed mine, when everything felt right, even if it were only for a moment. He made me feel amazing for a night, and I haven’t felt that way in such a long time. How am I going to let that go? Pain radiates through my chest as I force myself closer.

  Then I lift the pen, and I sign the papers.

  After that I cry, a lot.

  ~*~*~*~

  MARCUS

  She’s standing at my door, tears streaming down her face, papers in her hands that are outstretched towards me. Penny has already slipped past me and into the house, smiling and giggling, lighting the space with a sound it hasn’t heard in so long. I’d turn, I’d smile, but I can’t take my eyes off the girl in front of me, the girl who is sobbing so hard my heart tears to pieces.

  “I signed them,” she rasps.

  I open my mouth to say something, but what can I say? This has to happen. It has to. My hands curl into fists over and over again before I finally reach out and take the papers out of her hands. I look down, unable to keep my eyes on her pained expression. I want to reach for her. I want to hold her. I want to tell her it’ll be okay, but I can’t right now.

  The Marcus I am can’t give her what she needs.

  “Come on, Penny,” she rasps.

  “I’ll get her.”

  I turn and walk inside, dropping the papers onto the counter in the kitchen. I find Penny on my lounge, staring at the bright colors on the television. I lift her into my arms, my heart breaking to keep her here, to keep her mom here, to make this better. I carry her to the front door and pass her over to Katia.