Another Night

Tess watched as her husband walked into the bathroom and close the door, then closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. He had never been very good in bed, but that didn't really bother her, sex wasn't the most important thing in their marriage, yet she yearned for more than just a couple of minutes between the sheets. She wanted him to touch her like he wanted her, like she was the most desirable woman on earth... like Mark had. She thought that if she told him lovingly what she wanted him to do, how she wanted him to touch her, he'd at least try to please her. Instead, he had ended their session even sooner than usual then left their bed immediately to take a shower. Rolling over onto her stomach, Tess buried her face in her pillow and cried silently. She had never felt more unloved, unwanted and alone in all her life. Was it too much to ask to feel loved by her husband?

A scream broke the silence and Tess bolted up out of bed, threw her robe on and ran to her youngest son's room. She picked up the toddler and held him close to her chest, whispering that Mommy was here and that everything would be okay. Rocking gently, she sat on the window sill and looked out into the dark, her mind traveling back once again to Mark. 'You have got to stop thinking about him!' She told herself. But she knew that even if she wanted to, she couldn't. Her husband started watching wrestling with their oldest son and now there was no way to avoid seeing him without telling him what she had done. Ironically, the Undertaker was her husband's favorite superstar. Tess let out a frustrated sigh. She wished her husband was more open minded, that he would feed her craving for his touch, let her touch him... Looking down at the child in her arms, she brushed a few strands of hair from his soft little face and, seeing that he was once again sleeping peacefully, she stood and carried him back to his bed, careful not to wake him up, and laid him down. He instantly rolled onto his side and sighed, letting his mother know he was asleep. Silently, she tiptoed out of the room, pulling the door closed with her. She peaked in the older boy's room and saw that he too was sleeping peacefully, then she made her way back to her room and found her husband in a deep sleep. As she padded across the floor, she unwittingly saw Mark lying there in her bed, instead of her husband. Cursing herself under her breath, she laid down, rolled to her side , away from him, and fell into a restless sleep.

Art watched as his wife stretched. She was truly one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Unfortunately, she had a very healthy sexual appetite and he on the other hand, simply didn't enjoy it. He wished he did though. He would love nothing more than to give her everything she desired, to fulfill her every fantasy, and to watch her as pleasure washed over her, consuming her, drowning her in ecstasy.

Art felt her naked body pressed against him and closed his eyes as a wave of hatred, anger, and jealousy washed over him. An image of his wife in the arms of another man flashed in his mind and he gently pushed her away, trying to bring his emotions back under control before he did something he would regret. He wanted to hurt her, to make her feel some of the pain that the image gave him.

Andy, a close friend who just happened to be a reporter for the local paper, had been in Daytona doing a piece on Bike Week and had seen Tess leaving a bar with some biker. He didn't know who the biker was or where he was from, only that he was the biggest SOB he'd ever seen. He followed them to the biker's hotel room and watched them go in and fall into each others arms, kissing passionately, before the door closed and shut him out. Art didn't blame Tess for sleeping with the man. As a matter of fact, he was suprised that this had been her only indiscretion. Seeing her reach out, he turned and walked to the dresser before she could touch him again, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.

She had no idea why he pushed her away. Another woman? The idea was ludicrous, he would barely touch her so there was no way it could be another woman. Unless... Unless she wasn't good enough anymore. He met someone else and was in love with her. But that didn't sound right. He had been acting strange ever since she came home from Bike Week. Maybe he knew about Mark. No, he would have said something. Wouldn't he? She watched as Art got dressed and walked out of the room leaving her frustrated and confused once again. Sighing heavily, she dressed and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.

Mark took her in his arms, pulling her close to him, and covered her mouth with his, his tongue immediately pressing against her lips begging her to open him. When she didn't open her mouth, he began a slow decent down her jaw to her neck while his hands slid down her back to her buttocks, squeezing and caressing them as he kissed and nibbled at her throat. Her body stiffened against him then her hands on his shoulders pushing him away and he straightened looking down at her.

Mark stood stunned as he watched her leave. The other night she couldn't wait to see him, now she couldn't wait to get away from him. Angrily, he snatched his bags up and stormed into the bedroom cursing loudly and threw the suitcases across the room, shattering the crystal lamp that stood on the night stand. He knew that she was having an affair, he understood how it happened and why, and he didn't blame her, but he did expect her to be faithful to him while he was home.

Mark stumbled through the darkened house almost tripping over the oriental rug in the living room, leaving a trail of clothing along the way. He stopped briefly at the bedroom door to allow his eyes to adjust to the darker room, then made his way over to the bed and slid under the covers next to his wife. His hand slid over her waist and up to her breast and he began to fondle her through the satin nightgown while he kissed and licked the back of her neck.

He pulled at her thin satin panties, tearing them off easily, and pushed her legs apart then grabbed her wrists, to ward off her blows, and held them down above her head in one hand as he positioned himself over her. With one hard thrust he buried himself inside her, slamming into her over and over again until he reached his climax then collapsed on top of her.

She lay under his full weight for what seemed like an eternity, then gently pushed on his shoulder. He didn't move, so she pushed a little harder, hoping he wouldn't get too angry with her, needing him to get off so she could breath, but he still didn't move. She gathered her courage and pushed as hard as she could, finally rolling him over onto his back. She took several deep breaths then slowly turned her head to look at him, knowing all she would see was his furious eyes. Her mouth fell open as she looked at his sleeping face. She had seen him drunk a few times, but he had never passed out. Laying back on her pillow, she closed her eyes, her mind racing. She had to keep him happy, she thought, she had to make sure he didn't leave her.

He crawled out of bed, stopping for a moment while the world stopped spinning, then pulled on a pair of jeans that were laying across the dresser, and walked out to the kitchen. Sara was sitting at the breakfast bar with a pile of bills. She looked up when he cleared his throat and pulled a bottle of aspirin out of her purse, handing it to him. He opened the bottle and swallowed three on his way to the sink for a glass of water to wash them down, then walked back to the bar and sat down facing his wife. She looked terrible, as if she hadn't slept all night. Did they have a fight? He wondered. He could see fear in her eyes as she looked at him, but he couldn't remember anything that happened last night after downing his second bottle of Jack Daniels.

Tess sighed as she sat down on the back porch steps. The kids were in bed, Art was packing for his trip, and she was finally able to relax a little. Turning sideways on the step, she leaned back against the railing and closed her eyes, pictures of Mark instantly filled her mind. It was hard to watch him on TV every week without making Art suspicious, but somehow she did. Why did he have to start watching wrestling after all these years? And why in the Hell did he have to like The Undertaker? 'Because he's the best in the business.' She answered herself.

She remembered the first time she ever saw Mark, his debut at Survivor Series as The Undertaker. He looked so... scary, so intimidating. For years, she never bothered to watch him wrestle, unless he was in a match with Sting or later, with Stone Cold Steve Austin, never mind actually looking at him. All she saw was a 6'10" monster whom everyone was afraid of. It wasn't until early 1999, during his feud with Austin that she actually watched him. His athleticism, agility, and in-ring abilities were incredible, and he impressed her time and again every time he walked the top rope, her personal favorite, and with every flying clothesline, tombstone pile driver, and clothesline he delivered. Soon, she began to notice the way he walked, the sound of his voice, the way his lips curved up in that beautifully wicked grin when he was planning something evil against his opponent. Before long, she was shamelessly in lust over the man.

Then she met him, a dream come true, and succeeded in humiliating herself by the way she acted. Seeing him in the bar in Daytona had started out the same way, but as he talked to her, she began to relax and found that he was interested in more than just polite conversation. As she sat on that barstool, she felt her passion start to burn for him like never before, and was aware of his reaction to her as he read her every emotion in her eyes. The heat from his arm sent bolts of electricity into her arm and coursing through her veins as he leaned toward her. His breath scorched her skin as he breathed the words into her neck, 'Let's get outta here.'

Tess sighed heavily not wanting to think about him anymore, but couldn't stop herself. When she first came home from Daytona, she was overwhelmed with guilt and came close quite a few times to telling Art everything, but she didn't want to hurt him. Especially since she knew that the closest she would ever get to Mark again would be sitting in the front row at a live show.

As time went by, Art had become more distant from her and began pushing her away, without reason. She knew he was faithful to her, he didn't have any bad habits... drinking, drugs, gambling, ect... that would make him shut her out like this, he didn't know about Mark. The more she thought about it, the more it hurt her. The more he pushed her away, the more she wanted to be with Mark and the less she felt guilty , which upset her. She wanted to feel guilty, to punish herself for what she'd done, but Art was making that almost impossible.

Art watched her through the screen door as she raked her fingers through her hair, the moonlight covering her, giving her an unearthly glow. He knew he should confront her about her one-night-stand, but he could never bring himself to admit that she'd had one, at least not out loud. The expression on her face and in her eyes told him that she was probably thinking about it and that it was tearing her up inside. He knew that she wasn't going to see that biker again, not that it would make any difference, what was done was done and there was nothing either one of them could do to change it. He felt the need to go to her, tell her he knows about it and that he forgives her, to hold her, love her. Letting out a long frustrated sigh, he turned around and walked back inside.

~Mark stood at the elevator, patiently waiting for the doors to open, oblivious to the world around him. He couldn't stop thinking about his night with Cross, the way she kissed him, touched him. She reminded him of someone in the desert... skin burning in the sun, limbs weak from the heat and the lack of food and water, throat dry and swollen... greedily drinking the cool clear water of an oasis and devouring a fallen coconut. Her hunger for him was so primal it awakened his own primitive needs. Needs his wife wouldn't fulfill. God, he wished he could be with her again.

Without saying a word, he took her face in his hands, leaned over and kissed her, telling her without words how much he needed her and she answered him by wrapping her arms around him, pulling him closer, and deepening the kiss. He heard her moan softly as his tongue entered her mouth, exploring every crevasse and engaging in sensual battle. His hands left her face, traveling down her neck, over her shoulders, and down her back to her buttocks. His grip tightened and he lifted her up, his hands sliding down her legs as he wrapped them around his waist.

Her hands slid down his chest, his muscles flexing and relaxing with her touch, and he moaned in response, while his hands traveled back up her legs, pushing the hem of her skirt up with them. Breaking the kiss he looked deep in her eyes, wanting to see if she had the same hunger for him she had last time and he realized that not only could he see it, but he could feel it radiating from her, which made his desire burn even hotter. She lowered her lips to his neck and began to kiss, lick and nip at his skin while her hands made their way down his chest to the waistband of his jeans, and ripped them open, freeing his member to her waiting hand. She stroked him firmly and slowly, until he couldn't take anymore.

He slid his hands up her thighs, covering her mound with an impatient hand. He pulled aside the cotton material and rubbed her clitoris causing her to moan, then lifted her up and impaled her. Her walls closed in around him, pulling him in deeper, and he thrust into her harder. He couldn't tell if her cries were from pleasure or pain, and at the moment he didn't care. He reveled in her cries and in the feel of her body as it began to tremble with her release.

Mark bolted upright, covered in sweat and breathing heavily, as the remnants of the dream slowly began to fade. He didn't move for a moment, wanting to make sure he was fully awake, then relaxed and laid back down, groaning as he felt the sticky mess on his tummy and the sheet. He had never had a dream that realistic before. When he closed his eyes, he could almost smell her perfume and feel her body surround him. Carefully, he crawled out of bed, as not to wake Sara, and went to the bathroom to wash up, his mind still on Tess.

After making his way back to the bed, he looked down at his wife. She had avoided him as much as she possibly could over the past week, making excuses why she couldn't have dinner with him or couldn't call in sick to spend the day with him. She even went in to work on Saturday so she wouldn't have to be near him. He knew she didn't love him.

'No' He told himself, 'She's just upset about what happened last weekend. When I get back, everything will be fine.' Tess' face suddenly appeared in his mind and he thought about her, the way she had looked at him in the hotel room. She didn't love him, she wanted to sleep with him. She let him have his way with her, use her body for his own carnal pleasure, then took her liberties with him. Not once did she try to pretend that she loved him or hide her intentions from him. She had been more honest with him that night then... then Sara had since they first met.

He was becoming more distant from her by the day and she still had no idea why. Damn him. Why wouldn't he talk to her? It was obvious that something was wrong and every time she asked him about it, he would either change the subject or ignore her completely. Wiping the tears from her face, she turned and walked back toward the escalators.

She pushed her way through a group of large men, suddenly feeling very small, not really paying attention to any of them. They were talking loudly, each one trying to be heard over the others, and she heard someone say something about a damned layover and another on his cell phone asking the person on the other end to please hold his room a few more hours. Suddenly she heard it, that unmistakable voice, that deep Texas accent ringing out above the rest. She looked over slowly and froze in her spot. He looked so handsome in those tight fitting blue jeans, that black Harley Davidson tee shirt that looked two sizes too small for him, his beautiful red locks pulled back in a braided ponytail. Looking at the others, she realized that the group of men were wrestlers. 'On their way to Miami.' She thought. Her eyes fell on Mark, watching him, taking in all his features as he talked to Glen. She took a step toward him then stopped, seeing he was in deep conversation, she didn't want to disturb him. He probably wouldn't remember her anyway. After all, they spent one night together months ago, and God only knew how many other one-night-stands he's had. There was nothing special about her, nothing that made her stand out from the others. She sighed, taking one last look at him, and walked away.

The crowd in the arena was huge as Tess and Nita pushed their way toward a concession stand and took their place at the end of an unbelievably long line. Tess felt very uncomfortable about the way she was dressed, from the appreciative glances from the men passing by, and the not-so-appreciative glances from their wives and girlfriends. She wore a pair of blue jeans that fit her snugly without being too tight, a black leather vest that hugged her tightly, together they showed off every curve of her body, and a pair of black leather boots. She wore her hair down, tucked behind her ears, and cascading down her back and over her shoulders. Nita was wearing a pair of black leather pants and boots, and a red leather tank, her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The more she and Nita talked, the more she began to relax and enjoy the second glances and stares they both were receiving. Two men walked past them dressed up like the Dudly boys in black and white camouflage, carrying signs that read, '3-D' and 'WE WANT TABLES'. A moment later, two boys and a girl, no older than twelve, walked in the opposite direction dressed up like the Hardy's and Lita. Looking down at her outfit, and realized she was dressed like the Undertaker and cursed herself for letting Nita talk her into wearing this instead of her American Bad Ass tee shirt and black jeans like she had planned. After what seemed like hours, they bought two beers and an order of nachos for Nita, then made their way inside to find their seats.

Their seats were on the front row at the bottom of the ramp where the Undertaker usually parked his motorcycle. They couldn't see up the ramp, but they had a clear view of the front and side of the ring, which Tess preferred anyway. She sipped her beer and Nita ate her nachos while they watched the arena fill. Soon, the lights went out and the pyros exploded, signaling the beginning of the show. She had been to quite a few shows over the years and she still got butterflies in her stomach waiting for the matches to begin.

They cheered as Mick Foley came down to the ring to talk about the next pay-per-view, then he began to announce the matches for the night. Tess and Nita sat on the edge of their seats waiting for news of their men, the Undertaker and Kane, and screamed as he announced the Rock would be defending his title against the Undertaker. Mick was interrupted as Chris Benoit came to the ring, whining about how he should be the number one contender, again.

Nita nodded in response, not wanting to have to yell, and the girls turned their attention back to the ring. Their heart beats sped up as the pyros exploded again at the top of the ramp and Kane's music filled the air, and they leaned over the security railing to try to see him. They screamed as he climbed into the ring and took the microphone from Benoit and began to speak. She was glad he was more vocal now. He had a deep sexy voice that sounded so much like Mark's, that she caught herself looking for the tattoos on his arms. An image appeared in her mind as he spoke... Mark was lying on top of her, softly telling her how beautiful she was as he covered her mouth with his. She knew she shouldn't be thinking things like this, especially here in public, but she let the image remain, reveling in the memory.

Mark sat in his dressing room with Glen talking about the matches they were to be in that night. He couldn't stop thinking about Cross, about the way she looked when she sat on top of him, grinding her hips into his, the sound of her voice when she screamed out his name. He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door.

Mark nodded and a moment later heard the door close. He ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, her face implanted in his mind. It may not be her, he thought, it could be someone who just looks like her. There had to be millions of women around her height with brown hair, and the lighting was kind of dark. Yes, it was probably someone else. He wished he was riding his bike out to the ring tonight, but Crash Holley was suppose to spill something and he'd have to leave it backstage. Damn it! He'd have to try to get close enough to see her during the match, but he didn't like that idea, he wanted to be focused on the match and not on her. Like that was possible. He stood and walked out to where his bike was parked, ready for his confrontation with Crash.

Tess and Nita screamed as loud as they could when they heard Kid Rock's voice booming over the loud speakers. She felt like she could strangle "Elroy" for spilling coffee all over Taker's bike during his Hard Core match. Just the thought of Mark straddling that big machine made her insides burn, and she blushed slightly as she felt the moister between her legs. God, he looked good. He was dressed just like her, in blue jeans, black boots, and that black leather vest she loved so much. She watched as he leaned forward on the top rope, his foot on the bottom rope, and looked out over the crowd. He seemed to be looking for someone. Her eyes fell to his chest, only the bottom two snaps were fastened and she could see the top of the big tattoo on his tummy, then her gaze traveled to his arms, his legs, his crotch, stopping briefly to indulge in a memory, then to his face. His eyes were mesmerizing, holding her spellbound oblivious to everything around her, until he turned to face the Rock.

Mark dominated the Rock the entire match, making him look more like an ammature rather than the WWF champion. Mark caught a glimpse of Cross every now and then and she seemed to be enjoying seeing the Rock getting his ass kicked. He smiled inwardly after giving the Rock a brutal choke slam, and as he set him up for the last ride, slamming the man down on the mat harder than necessary. He made sure he was positioned so he could see Cross as he covered Rock for the three count. She was smiling brightly and cheering proudly for him as the referee raised his hand in victory. There was something strangely satisfying about having the woman he loved cheering him on as he fought. He felt like a knight returning from battle, his woman waiting for him, cheering as he carried home the spoils of battle. He wondered why Sara never came to the shows, never cheered for him, never made any effort to show him how proud she was of him. Shaking the thought from his mind he climbed down out of the ring, looking at Cross once again trying to stay in character, and walked up the ramp.

Mark hurried to his dressing room and searched franticly to find a pen and paper. After scribbling a quick note, he went in search of Jim Dotson, and naturally, couldn't find him anywhere. He had to see Cross again, but there were still too many people out there for him to go out and Jim was the only security guard he trusted. He finally found him and asked him to deliver the note, telling him exactly where she had been sitting and what she was wearing. Jim agreed and hurried off to find the woman.

Tess and Nita waited by the rear exit for the Undertaker and Kane to make their final appearance as they left the building. Kane came out wearing blue jeans and a black WWF shirt unbuttoned most of the way, reminding her of the way Mark dresses, and looked Tess in the eye as he passed by. She could swear he was smiling under that mask.

The man didn't say anything or try to move out of her way, he just stood there, staring at her. A nauseous feeling began growing in the pit of her stomach as he looked over her body. The smell of alcohol coming from him was almost overwhelming, and the look in his eyes told her exactly what he wanted. She looks away quickly and pushed past him only to have him grab her arm and turn her around to face him. She looked angrily into his eyes and forcefully pulled her arm free from his grasp, then turned and walked quickly to the bar. She kept her eye on the man as she stood waiting for her beers, all the while thinking about what an asshole that guy had been. 'Who in the Hell does he think he is?'

Tess ignored the man leaning in his chair against the wall as she walked past him. Leaning over the sink, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hadn't been able to get Mark out of her mind and was beginning to feel like she would go insane if she didn't see him again. Damn it! Why did she have to be married? Why did he? Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she stood straight and walked back out into the bar.

A large gloved hand appeared from behind Tess and wrapped itself around the man's throat. The man let go of her immediately as his hands flew to the man's wrist, trying to pry the long fingers off of his throat. Tess' hands involuntarily flew to her arms, rubbing where the man's hands had been. She felt a powerful arm wrap around her waist and gently pull her aside. Her eyes widened as she watched more of the tattooed arm appeared infront of her. There was only one man with those tattoos...

Tess' pulse raced as the elevator doors silently closed and Mark pulled her into his arms, capturing her lips in an urgent hungry kiss. His hands roamed over her body fanning the already raging inferno that burned inside her, his mouth devoured her face and neck causing her to moan with desire as he showered her with kisses and nipped at her tender flesh. Greedily, she began kissing, licking and nipping at his neck and his partially exposed chest. His scent, mingled with his cologne, was intoxicating, his moans of pleasure drowned out the sound of the elevator music, the heat from his touch scorched her skin, the power radiating from his large body made her limbs weak... he had complete control over her. There was no husband, no wife, no tomorrow... nothing but him, her and tonight.

God, did she know how badly he wanted her? Tonight was his, he decided. Tonight he was going to enjoy her body shamelessly, doing with her as he pleased, filling the hunger that had consumed him for months now, and hoped she would do the same in return, just as she had the last time. Grabbing a handful of hair, he pulled her head back forcefully and recaptured her mouth, invading it with his tongue as he explored every creavase completely. Her breath was shallow as he pulled away and descended to her throat, her soft tender skin burned as he licked, nibbled, and finally bit down, causing her to cry out.

Tess tore herself away from him after realizing that the elevator doors had opened. Taking her by the arm, he pulled her down the hall to his room, and she stumbled as she tried to keep up with his long strides. He hadn't been forceful last time, she thought. Not that she minded. She actually enjoyed it... the feeling of being wanted in the most primitive way, of knowing that he would use her to please himself with or without her consent. The last thought was exhilarating, as she had never had anyone want her like that before. He pulled her to him and kissed her again, silently demanding she give into his every desire.

He ripped open her vest, pulled it roughly down her arms and tossed it aside then looked at her breasts heaving under the black lace of her bra. He impatiently pulled the fingerless gloves off his hands and covered her breast, kneading it as he reached down with his free hand and began rubbing her mound through the denim, and she moaned in response as she reached out to touch him and he caught her wrists, holding her arms away from him.

His hands slid up her arms as he released her wrists, then slowly down over her chest and stomach to her thighs. Kneeling behind her, he caressed her thighs and calves, stopping long enough to untie her boots. His lips kissed her bare skin just above the the waistband of her jeans, and felt her body tense slightly. He kissed the spot again, and a moan escaped a she tensed again. A wicked grin spread across his face as he began to lavish affection on her lower back. He heard her breath becoming more shallow, her moans a little louder, and felt her body begin to tremble. With one hand, he caressed her inner thigh and with the other, he covered her mound, rubbing firmly, as his lips traveled up her back, covering every inch with blistering kisses. As he stood, his hands traveled up stopping at the waistband of her jeans.

His hand cupped her breast and he squeezed and pulled on it, the lace rough against her skin. He felt her hips moving against his hand and reached under the lace, spreading her lips with a calloused finger and began to explore her, savoring the feel of her soft wet flesh. He circled her nub, which was already more sensitive than she ever thought possible, and another against her dripping hole. She gasp as he slid his long finger into her and began to rock back and forth as he plummeted deep inside her. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her still, as he slid a second finger in her and began to explore inside her body. His hold on her tightened as she began to squirm. She threw her head back and called out his name as he felt her walls closed in around his fingers in a vise grip and her juices flowed, covering his hand. After her body relaxed some, he pulled his fingers out and put them to her lips.

His hands slid back down her body to her jeans and pulled them over her hips and down to her ankles. Kneeling again, he lifted her leg, pulling off her boot then sliding her pants off, then repeated with her other leg. Once again, he caressed his way up her legs, then around her waist, and up her back. Slowly he walked around her and stopped infront of her, scrutinizing her every curve, every feature. He looked appreciatively at the way the black lace covered her breasts and womanhood, how it stood out against her milky white skin. Lightly, his hands ran over the lace bra, pinching the nipples underneath, rolling them between his fingers, pulling at them, then traveled up her chest and neck. Holding her face, he looked into her eyes and saw something he'd never seen before... she was surrendering to him. Leaning over, he kissed her again, claiming her as his lover... his woman.

"Don't move." He half growled, half moaned, then pulled himself off her. Quickly, he disrobed and stood behind her, looking down at her. Grabbing her by the hips, he pulled her back to him, his hands gliding over her smooth back, and spread her legs open. He leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck as his hand cupped her breast, her nipple hardening at his touch. Without warning, he slammed into her, burying himself deep inside her. She screamed as he embedded himself in her, feeling like he had split her into. He closed his eyes as he leaned back, smiling at the sound of her scream. Placing his hands on her hips again, he began moving in and out, harder and faster with every thrust, his own grunts mingling with her screams. He felt his release coming quickly and leaned over her, one hand on the bed holding him up, and the other wrapped around her throat. His hand tightened around her throat and his body tensed, as he exploded deep inside her, screaming out her name.

He rolled her to her back and kissed her passionately, while his hand ran down her body and between her legs, and parted her lower lips, rubbing her throbbing clitoris, and she moaned into his mouth. His lips traveled slowly down her neck, chest, and stomach, covering every inch of her with his mouth, finally making his way to the bed of curls that glistened with their juices. He covered her mound with his mouth and parted her with his tongue, tasting himself there as well as her, as he pulled her clit into his mouth. He sucked, nibbled, and licked at the tiny bud, making her writhe in pleasure and scream out his name. He buried his tongue inside her, imitating the movements of his manhood, and soon felt her body arch as her juices flowed over it. He felt her hands in his hair, holding him against her as her body calmed, and as he lapped up all she had to give.

Sweat glistened on their skin, hearts pounded, and bodies trembled as Tess lay wrapped in Mark's powerful arms. She looked up and found him watching her, the look in his eyes told her that he wasn't through with her yet. Holding his gaze, she leaned up on her elbow and lightly ran her fingertips down the side of his face, over his chin and up the other side. God, he was beautiful. Her fingers traveled down the bridge of his nose, across his mustache and down each side of his goatee, then traced his slightly parted lips. Replacing her fingers with her lips, she claimed his mouth in an urgent demanding kiss, her tongue delving between his parted lips and she explored every inch of his warm sweet mouth. As they kissed, she ran her hand down his throat and across his shoulder, the muscles in his arm rippling beneath her touch as her hand descended down the myriad of tattoos. Slowly, she began kissing her way down his chin, nipping at his neck and ear lobe, until she heard him moan, then continued her way down to his chest. She loved the feel of his body under her hands and lips; she couldn't get enough of him.

Finding his nipples, she took one in her mouth, sucking and nibbling on it, then climbed on top of him, straddling him so she could enjoy the other one. She could feel her juices begin to flow as she sat on him, her already sensitive nub pressed against his stomach, and she rocked back and forth involuntarily before sliding further down his body. He lifted his knee as he felt her lower lips against his thigh, and she stopped. He lowered his knee slightly, then lifted it again, encouraging her to move against him, and she did. Slowly she began to rock back and forth against his thigh, her sensitive nub throbbed against his hair and skin. She could feel her orgasm building and stopped, intending to take him inside her, and felt his hands on her hips, holding her in place. He gave her a seductive smile as he began guiding her hips back and forth over his thigh, encouraging her to continue, and she did. She felt like a dog humping her owner's leg, but the feeling quickly disappeared as her orgasm approached. Her body began to tremble and his grip on her tightened as she rocked harder, her juices flowing as she went over the edge.

His eyes were closed when she looked at him and she could see by the smile on his face that he had enjoy it. She lowered her lips to his stomach and continued what he had interrupted. Slowly she kissed and licked her way down to the bed of dark red curls that surrounded his member, circling the base with her tongue without touching it. She made her way down his thigh, tasting herself as she found 'that' spot, and continued downward. He tangled his hand in her hair, stopping her and forcing her to look up at him. He had a wicked gleam in his eye as he looked at her. "Lick it up." He growled as he pushed her face back down to the spot on his leg, and she knew that what little control she had was gone. This was his night, she thought, and she was more than happy to oblige. As she licked, she looked up and saw his free hand wrapped around his manhood, stroking it firmly. She couldn't believe what kind of affect this was having on her.

She reached up and covered his hand with hers, his leg forgotten, leaned over, and licked the dew from the tip of his head, then circled it with her tongue. She heard him moan as she pulled his hand away, replacing it with hers. She licked and sucked on his head while she stroked him, until she heard him moan again, then slowly sucked him in her mouth until he was deep in her throat. She sucked hard as she moved her head back and forth over his shaft. He tangled his free hand in her hair and held her in place as he thrust himself in and out of her mouth while she continued to suck. Feeling his climax approaching, he pulled out and lay still. She pulled her hair free from his grasp as he fought for control of his body, and began to lick at his head again. Firmly, she licked down the length of his shaft and over his sac, then took one side in her mouth, sucking gently, as she didn't want to bring him to climax yet, then the other. She felt his hands on her head briefly before he grabbed the bedspread and pulled on it, and firmly licked her way back up. Slowly she began kissing her way back up his stomach. He grabbed her by her arms and roughly pulled her back up, capturing her mouth in a demanding kiss.

He took her face in his hands while they kissed. God, he loved the way she kissed. Breaking the kiss, he lowered his mouth to her neck, nipping, licking and sucking on her soft skin. Her sweat mingled with her perfume and her own feminine scent was alluring, intoxicating and smothered him with desire. His hands slid down the sides of her body and he grabbed her by her hips again, pushing her down and impaling her on his throbbing shaft. He held on to her as she moved back and forth, grinding her hips into his. He felt her body tense as her walls closed in around him, pulling him in deeper as she screamed out his name. He pulled her down and kissed her again until her body subsided, then threw her off him and, as fast as lightning, covered her body with his and continued the kiss. His hand slithered down her body, spread her lower lips, and slid two fingers inside her hot body, while his thumb rubbed her clit. Her body arched against him and she instantly climaxed, as every nerve in her body was raw. He smiled against her mouth, breaking the kiss then spread her legs open and positioned himself over her. She screamed as he thrust into her forcefully. Her body was tight around him and seemed to get tighter with every thrust. He slammed into her over and over again, his thrusts hard, his pace fast, and he didn't think once about what he was doing to her. He felt her legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, and he thrust into her as hard as he could, his body tensed and he roared as he exploded deep inside her.

Mark collapsed onto the bed, his eyes closed, his body trembling, and his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Slowly his body calmed and he thought about what had just happened. He had never lost control like that before, and had never been that rough with a woman. Something inside him swelled with pride as if he'd just won some kind of trophy, while at the same time he was consumed with guilt for being so rough with her. Yet he wanted her again, despite what he felt. He leaned up on his elbow and looked down at her. Her hair was spread out on the bed, circling her face like a dark halo, one arm lay draped across her stomach and the other on the bed, her hand resting beside her face, her eyes closed, and he saw a tear slide down her face. As he looked closer, he saw the bruises on her throat, arms, hips and thighs begin to take form.

He reached out and lightly stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, the heat from their passion still radiating from her body. He placed his hand on her cheek as he kissed her gently, and felt one of her hands on his face and the other on his neck as she kissed him back. Opening her lips slightly, she invited him in. How could she possibly respond to him like this after what he did? He wondered as his tongue delved into her warm mouth, deepening the kiss. He opened his eyes and found her watching him again, the desire in her eyes was unmistakable, and she pulled away from him slightly, breaking the kiss.

In response, he lifted his body and covered her, settling between her legs, and heard her sigh when she felt his erection on her thigh. Without taking his eyes off hers, he gently pushed himself inside her, and began moving in and out of her slowly. His eyes wondered down to her throat and he touched a bruise with his fingertip.

He claimed her lips again, this time with more passion, more tenderness as he continued to move slowly within her. They touched and kissed as they loved each other. Her back arched off the bed pressing her chest into his. He held onto her tightly and watched as her orgasm consumed her and left her trembling. Bringing his lips to hers, he kissed her again briefly, then pulled away as he felt his own climax approaching. Thrusting harder and faster, he plummeted deep and emptied himself into her warm body. He looked down at her, his hair falling over his shoulders and onto her chest, and fought the urge to tell her he loved her, and could see the same expression in her eyes. The phone rang suddenly jarring them from their thoughts, and he rolled off her to answer it. She already missed his presence and wished she could keep him here with her forever. Unfortunately, she knew that was just a fantasy.

The phone rang again as they showered and Mark ran across the room, dripping wet, towel in hand, to answer it. Tess dried off, dressed in her jeans and vest, which felt weird without her bra and panties, walked back into the room and watched as Mark pulled on his jeans while he talked. She could tell he was talking to his wife, and felt a little jealous.

Mark hung up the phone and watched her as she looked for her purse. It seemed like she, somehow, became more beautiful every time he looked at her. He walked her to the door, pulled her to him, and held her close. He wanted to steal her away from her husband and keep her here with him. Unfortunately, his wife reminded him of the reasons he couldn't. She leaned up and kissed him then, before she lost all of her self control, pulled away and opened the door.

Mark missed her already. He leaned forward, his hands pressed against the door, and lowered his head. He wanted to see her again, he needed to. He knew he should let her go and get on with his life. Suddenly he pushed himself off the door, jerked it open, intent on seeing her again, and stepped out into the hall. His heart sank as he stared down the empty corridor. She was gone. He stepped back inside and pushed the door closed. He cursed himself for letting her go while he threw his things in his bags.