Forever

"I can't. He's coming home today. You know why I'm still with him. Yes, it's worth being married to him. God, do you have any idea how much money he makes? Of course I love you, but he has the money. I can't leave him, I signed a prenump... if I leave, I get nothing. I didn't hear you complaining about it in Barbados. Yeah, we can do that again. Hmmmmm He's going out of town next week... How about the weekend after next?"

Mark stalked across the room in only a few long strides, took the phone from her hand and threw it across the room, ripping the cord from the wall. Anger had consumed him and he knew he should leave and give himself time to cool down before confronting her, but he found himself towering over her. Without thinking, he grabbed her by her throat and lifted her off the ground.

Three hours later, she began carrying her bags out to her car, which, thank God, she had left in the driveway. After everything was loaded and the car was ready to go, she walked into the garage to find Mark, and found him under one of his bikes, covered with grease.

He stopped working when he heard her pull away. He knew all along that she didn't love him, that she was having an affair, and that she was using him for his money, but he didn't care. At least he didn't think he cared. Hearing her say it aloud to her lover changed that, and made him realize that he did care. He wanted someone who loved him, not because of who he was professionally or how much money he made, but because of who he was inside. He laughed at the idea.

After washing his hands, he walked back into his house. There was an emptiness there, which reminded him of why he married her in the first place. Yes he loved her, but he was lonely. He wanted someone to come home to, someone to hold while he was home, but in the end, it wasn't enough. Anyone could give him what he wanted, but no one, so far, had given him what he needed. True love.

He sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, then walked to the bedroom, and called the locksmith, who said he'd be out in an hour, then took a shower and waited for the locksmith to arrive. He had all the locks in the house changed, not trusting Sara to stay away, and paid the man twice what he had charged for the service. After locking up the house, he went to the kitchen and, having found three bottles of Jack Daniels, sat infront of the television and began drinking, drowning everything he was feeling inside.

Tess sat in the airport waiting for Art's plane to arrive. Her mind wondered back to Monday night, filling her with guilt, and the desire to see him again. She had almost gone back to his room, almost told him she wanted to see him again, almost told him...

She remembered the look in his eyes a he made love to her. If she didn't know any better, she would swear it was love, but she did know better. He was a married man and she was just another one-night-stand, and that didn't bother her, although she knew deep down it should. She felt guilty enough about betraying Art, again, and didn't need to feel cheap and dirty along with it.

Suddenly all the guilt that had consumed Tess vanished and anger began to rise. She had almost forgotten how cold he was toward her. Neither one said anything as they went to get his luggage and headed across the building to where the car was waiting, each was lost in their own thoughts.

Not watching where she was going, Tess ran into someone, losing her balance, and felt two huge hands grab her arms and help steady her as she regained her footing. She looked up into the beautiful green eyes she had looked into less than a week ago.

Art and Tess left in silence. Tess wanted to talk to him, tell him about what happened, and ask him why he never mentioned knowing what happened in Daytona. She loved him, but she couldn't go on like this much longer. Something was going to have to happen, and soon.

The ride home was deafeningly silent. Tess sat in the passengers seat looking out the window, wondering how she was going to approach Art when they got home. The more time that went by, the more determined she was to resolve this, and she would do it tonight. The kids were with their grandmother so they would have all night to talk. The car jerked suddenly to the left, just missing a dog, and Tess realized they were going way to fast down the dark, narrow road. "Slow down." She said to Art, but instead of slowing down they went faster.

He jerked his arm away from her and stepped on the gas. She looked at him closely and what she saw terrified her. His eyes were full of rage, his mouth was contorted in anger, the veins in his neck were strained through his skin, his hands were clutched into fists around the steering wheel, and his breath was quick and ragged. Tess screamed as she was thrown against the door as the car sped around a sharp curve.

An evil smile crossed his face as he turned another curve, throwing her against the door again. She closed her eyes tight and held on to anything she could find until, after what seemed like an eternity to Tess, not long enough of a ride to Art, they pulled into their driveway. Tess fell out of the car when she opened her door and landed with a thud on the ground then watched Art storm into the house.

She picked herself up, dusted off her jeans and cautiously followed him inside, closing the door behind her. He was pacing back and forth in the living room like a wild animal trapped in a cage, and looked even more fierce than he did in the car, if that was possible. Her intuition told her she was in danger, her instincts told her to run, but she stood still watching him, waiting for what was going to happen next. He stopped infront of her, his eyes burning a hole in her as he stared down into her tear filled eyes.

"Is that right? Well, why don't you show me what he did that made you feel so special." He growled as he kissed her hard on the lips, and grabbed her breasts squeezing them through her shirt. Tess pushed against his chest to try to get away and, to her suprise, succeeded.

Grabbing the neck band of her tee shirt with both hands, he ripped it in half, and started working on her jeans. Instinctively she fought back, trying to push him away again only to be thrown down to the floor. He was on top of her instantly, fighting to keep her limbs at bay while he tore her clothes off.

She fought back as hard as she could but was unable to stop the assault. Her body had already begun to ache and wanted to give in to him, but she wouldn't give in, not like this. He finally succeeded in discarding her clothing, and pinned her down with the weight of his body. Quickly and without warning, he pushed himself inside her and began to move in a hard, fast pace. She felt as if she would split into from the force of his thrusts and begged him to stop. He heard her pleading with him and tried to ignore her, but the sound of his wife in pain, of any kind, was more than he could take. He thrust faster and harder, and soon felt his body stiffen as his hot liquid was emptied into her.

He pulled out of her, knelt between her legs, and watched her as she cried, his heart breaking along with hers, then looked over her body, noticing the bruises that were still visible. Bruises that he made. His anger flared again and consumed him as he imagined Undertaker on top of her, inside her, the sound of her voice calling out his name.

The thoughts were more than he could stand and before he knew what he was doing, he curled his hand into a fist and hit her hard on her face. She could taste her blood as it filled her mouth and before she could comprehend what had happened, he hit her again, this time cutting the top of her left cheek. Again he reared back and hit her, then again and again until she stopped moving.

"No, it's okay. I'll just take that one." He said. After reserving the flight, he went to the Enterprise counter and rented a car, then went back to the hotel. He sat in the car in front of his room and sighed. He didn't want to sit in a hotel room alone, but he wasn't in the mood to be around any people right now either, so he decided to go for a drive.

Suddenly, a car came speeding through stop sign off a side street, almost side swiping him, and he had to slam on the brakes to avoid impact. Both cars screeched to a halt and Mark looked at the other car, wanting to make sure whoever it was was okay, and saw Cross' husband looking back at him, his face full of rage. Art gave Mark an evil smile then sped away. Mark was shocked by the man's reactions and wondered why he would give him such a look.

He looked down the street Art had just come from, and, following his instincts, pulled onto the street. Slowly, he made his way down the deserted road. It was very narrow, had no street lights, leaving it pitch black, and was full of sharp turns. As he drove, he looked at the houses, not sure what he was looking for, but he had the feeling he would know when he saw it. He drove for what seemed like hours at this slow speed, and finally decided to turn back. He pulled up into the next driveway he came to, turning off his headlights so he wouldn't disturb the people inside, and put the car in reverse. He was about to back up when he noticed the front door was standing open and the light was on. For some reason, this didn't seem right. He looked around and saw there was a car and a motorcycle in the driveway, and an oil stain where another car had been parked. He surged it off and backed out of the driveway. As he put the car in drive, he glanced up at the motorcycle again, there was something familiar about it, as if he'd seen it somewhere before.

"Cross" He said aloud as the image of her sitting on that bike in Daytona filled his mind. Fear gripped his heart as he stared at the open door. He didn't know her very well, but she didn't strike him as the type of woman to leave her front door standing wide open in the middle of the night, especially with her children in the house. He pulled back up the driveway, turned off the engine, and nearly jumped out of the car, then bolted up to the house taking the steps two at a time.

He looked around at the neighboring houses. There was a thick layer of trees dividing each house, giving them complete privacy, and all the houses were dark. Taking a deep breath he stepped into the house. The foyer turned into a hallway which opened into, what looked like the living room. Slowly he walked down the hall, and as he walked, he looked in the doors. He found a dining room in the door on the left and a study in the door on the right, each was empty, and just past the study was another hallway which led to the bedrooms, he supposed.

There was a sectional directly infront of him, one side facing forward and one facing to the left, sliding glass doors to the left off the eat in kitchen, an entertainment center on the wall across from the couch, a fireplace on the wall to the right and two chairs infront of that. He walked into the kitchen, and finding nothing, he turned back to the living room, intending to cross the room and check the bedrooms.

No, he thought, this wasn't Cross, it couldn't be. He walked over to her as if in a trance, knelt down beside her, and carefully pulled the hair back from her face. Tears filled his eyes as he looked at her bloody face. Gently he pressed his fingers to her throat, checking for a pulse. He moved his fingers slightly and held them there, then moved them a little more.

"Come back Cross. Don't leave me." He pleaded as he worked to bring her back. He didn't know how long she'd been lying there, and that there was a good chance she wouldn't make it back, but he couldn't give up. He covered her mouth with his again, desperately trying to breath life back into her. This time she coughed softly into his mouth and opened her eyes. He leaned up, stroking the side of her face with the back of his fingers and smiled. Her eyes grew wide with suprise.

He glared at the man, but didn't argue. Instead, he told Cross he'd meet her there. After giving his statement to the police, he got back in the rental and drove to the hospital, then sat in the waiting room while they worked on her. His anger consumed him as remembered the look on Art's face.

He led Mark down the corridor to Tess' room and left him alone with her. Mark pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat quietly, watching her sleep. He couldn't bare to think of what would have happened if his flight hadn't been canceled or if Art hadn't almost run him down.

Then the scene changed. ~The same girl, older than before, was standing in a decorated school gym. She nervously held on to the boy in front of her as they swayed innocently to the music, her hand in his and one on his shoulder, his free hand resting on her back. As the music ended he took her by the hand and led her out to the courtyard where they ate lunch. With nervous hands, he pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. Her body stiffened for a moment then relaxed as he wrapped his arms around her waist. They held each other as the kiss, their first kiss, burned itself deep in their memories forever.~

"Tess" a deep masculine voice spoke softly in her ear. The voice brought a more recent memory. ~Mark was lying on top of her, kissing her, running his fingers through her hair as he moved inside her. His kiss was deep, loving, his touch set her body on fire, his voice soothed her. She remembered the rhythm of his gentle thrusts, his bated breath, and the sensation of his hot liquid being emptied into her.~

This memory wasn't comforting as the others had been. This one made her feel as if something terrible had happened, as if she were in danger of leaving and never coming back. She fought the feeling, she didn't want to leave. Who would look after her boys? Love them the way she did? She heard the voice again, a little clearer this time.

"I love you, Tess..." Wait, she knew that voice, didn't she? "Come back to me..." Mark! It was Mark's voice. Yes, but why was he asking her to come back? She could hear him clearly now, and other sounds coming from somewhere around her. She tried to open her eyes, but they felt as if they were made of iron. She tried again and felt her eye lids flutter, but still couldn't open them. Why was this so hard? She tried again, concentrating all her energy on the task, and felt them flutter then slowly open. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the light. She looked around for a moment, not knowing where she was then recognized the room as a hospital room. The memories of what happened came flooding back bringing her to tears.

She felt something brush her arm and turned her head slightly to see what it was, and saw a thick mass of auburn hair on the bed next to her. 'Mark's hair' she thought. He was sitting in a chair, leaning over, holding her hand, his forehead resting on the side of the bed. With her free hand she gently stroked his hair.

His head jerked up at her touch and he stared at her pale face. She had been in a coma for the past week, and on life support, due to the damage that had been done to her head. Her skull had been cracked and, according to doctors, she was brain dead. No one had been able to find her husband so in his absence, her mother had signed the papers to take her off life support. The older woman left as they began to shut down the machines, saying that she only did this because it was Tess' wish not to be kept alive. He didn't blame her for leaving. How could a parent sit by and watch their child die? Before she left, she asked him to stay incase something were to happen, and he agreed.

Instantly he leaned over, took her gently in his arms, and held her. He could feel her body shake as she cried. He tried to imagine the horror of what she must have gone trough and what it must have been like for her, having her husband, the man she loved and trusted turn on her and try to kill her with his bare hands. His heart broke for her, and anger began to surface as he remembered the look on the bastard's face after almost hitting him with his car, the evil smile on his lips.

The doctor allowed him to stay that night at Tess' request. It wasn't normal practice to let visitors stay overnight in a room with a patient, but she was no ordinary patient. Mark sat in a chair beside the bed all night, unable to sleep, and watched her sleep. He could tell, by the look on her face when she was dreaming, whether the dreams were good or bad, and when she was in pain. He had to go back on the road the next day and was worried for her safety. He was told that she and her sons would be staying with her mother until she recovered completely, and he hoped Art would keep his distance. Finally, exhaustion set in and he fell asleep, his head on the bed next to her.

Art silently slipped in the room and over to the bed where his wife lay sleeping. He looked at the man beside her and was suprised to find that his anger stayed at bay. He wanted to hurt the man, but he knew that he was responsible for all of this. He was never attentive to her in bed, which is what sent her into Mark's arms to begin with, then instead of talking to her about it he pushed her away and back into his arms. Tears filled his eyes as he looked down at her battered body. She had tried to explain what had happened, but instead of listening, he beat her to death. He was grateful that Mark had found her, despite the fact that he slept with her. At the time he wanted to hurt her, but not as badly as he did, and he certainly didn't mean to kill her, which technically he had. He leaned over Tess, pressing his lips to hers and whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry, Tess."

He turned his attention back to Tess and watched as her face contorted in pain. His heart ached and he wished he could take it away. Suddenly, he caught the faint scent of a man's cologne in the air. The doctor? He wasn't usually here at night unless there was an emergency, and he would definitely know if there had been an emergency. He took a deep breath, thinking he must have imagined it, then inhaled the scent again and stood up, kissed Tess' forehead, and went out into the hall to investigate.

Looking to the right, he saw a man stepping onto the elevator and recognized him as Tess' husband. His anger surfaced immediately and he ran to the elevator. The doors had just closed when he reached it and Mark cursed loudly and looked around. Spotting the door to the stairs, he ran down the corridor, jerked the door open, and flew down the steps with incredible speed, sup rising himself at how quickly he moved. He ran down to the first floor and burst through the door. Art was walking out the glass door that led to the parking garage and Mark followed, feeling more like a predator with every step. He looked around the darkened parking lot, not seeing anything for a moment, then noticed the door to the stairway closing slowly. Like a great predatory cat, he moved to the door and stepped in, listening, and heard footsteps above him. Quickly and quietly, he bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time, and was soon behind Art. Instead of attacking him, he followed him up to the top of the stairs, watching his every move, and felt his anger turn to rage. Normally, he would try to supress the rage as he hated the feelings that went along with it; the inhuman desire to destroy, the loss of control over his mind, his actions.

Just as Art placed his hand on the doorknob, Mark attacked. He pushed Art hard against the wall, scraping his face on the concrete and slammed his face into the wall again, then turned him around to face him. A look of shear terror came over Art as he looked up into the angry eyes of the Undertaker, seeing the same rage in those green eyes he felt the night he hurt Tess. Mark watched as tears filled the smaller man's eyes. He wrapped his large hand around Art's throat and lifted him up off the ground, squeezing hard.

"Tell me something, did Tess cry while you beat her? Did she beg you to stop? I think that she did. I think she swallowed her pride, she humiliated herself, begging you on hands and knees to have mercy on her. She's fighting for her life in there because of you. She can't give you what you deserve. But I can."

He hit him again, letting him slip from his grasp and fall into a pile at his feet. He looked down in disgust, his hatred growing by the second, and kicked him as hard as he could in the ribs. He kicked him again and again, ignoring his pleas for mercy, until he lay trembling on the cold, dark, concrete floor.

He sat down in the chair by the bed, taking her hand in his and tenderly kissed the back of her fingers, satisfied that her husband would keep his distance. He felt guilt begin to rise at what he'd just done to Art, only to be smothered by the satisfaction of knowing the little bastard got exactly what he deserved. He watched Tess as she slept, she looked peaceful for a moment, then began to whimper in her sleep. He realized as he looked at her what had happened the last time he saw her. They made love, slowly and tenderly, their bodies confirming what their hearts were saying, they were in love.

Tess carefully held on to the sleeping toddler as she unlocked the front door, pushed it open, and stepped inside. She and the boys had been at her mother's for the past month recovering from her injuries. She had tried all day to leave, but her mother kept finding ways to stall her, then finally, after the dinner her mother insisted on cooking, she was able to escape. She made her way through the darkened house, not bothering to turn on any lights, laid her son in his bed, and went out to get the older boy. After her children were tucked safely in bed, she walked into the living room and switched on the lights, stopping dead in her tracks.

Mark leaned against the door frame and watched Tess as she read the note. Dear Lord, she was beautiful. She had a scar on her left cheek from the assault, and seeing in inflamed his anger. He wished sometimes that he would have finished what he started with her husband, and this was one of those times. He and Tess kept in touch over the past month, they talked on the phone almost every night and he came to visit her whenever he was in town. When she told him she was coming home today, he took a few days off to be with her. Hoping to gather the courage to tell her how he felt about her.

He bent down and claimed her lips with his, his tongue delving into her moist depths, exploring every inch of her warm mouth as he pulled her closer to him. He felt her body mold to his as her arms slipped around his neck. He lifted her carefully, almost afraid he would break her if he were too rough, and carried her to her bed room.

Mark pulled away, breaking the kiss, and looked down at Tess. Gently he brushed a few strands of hair from her face pushing them back behind her ear, and cradled her cheeks in his palms. He leaned over and kissed her again, this time with more urgency. Slowly he began kissing a trail of fire over her face and down to her throat, sucking on and nipping at her soft flesh. She moaned in pleasure as buried her hands in his hair, running her fingers through the thick, red main, and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

He tugged at her shirt, freeing it from the waistband of her jeans, pulled it up over her head and tossed it aside, then unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, as his lips slowly continued their journey South. Taking her breast in his mouth, he began to suck lightly, flicking his tongue over her nipple, teasing it, then repeated with the other before returning to her mouth. His hands moved to her jeans, unbuttoned them and pulled them and her panties off, along with her shoes, then he undressed himself.

She smiled as she remembered asking him the same question. Not waiting for, or really expecting, an answer, he covered her mouth again in a soul searing kiss as he positioned himself over her, resting his knees between her legs. Her legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist, waiting for him to bury himself inside her. He could feel the heat between her legs and the juices her body was already releasing at her entrance. Leaning up slightly, he broke the kiss and looked at her, memorizing her every feature.

They looked into each others eyes as he pushed himself into her warm body, and continued to watch each other as he began to move slowly back and forth. He grabbed her hips, pressing his fingers into her skin, and pulled her toward him as he moved, burying himself deeper with every thrust, and began moving faster. He could feel his climax approaching quickly as he hadn't had any relief since the last time he made love to Tess, and slowed his pace. She placed her hands on his thighs, caressing them, silently urging him to move faster. Her walls tightened around him and her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in deeper. He moved faster and harder, answering her silent request. Her back arched up off the bed and she cried out his name as her orgasm washed over her, sending him over the edge as well.

Tess laid wrapped in Mark's arms, her head resting on his shoulder, her arm draped over his chest, her leg over his. She sighed as she felt him run his fingers through her hair, reveling in the feel of his touch. For the first time since the attack, she felt at peace, she felt safe, and she never wanted it to end, but how was she suppose to tell him? She couldn't just come out and say "I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.", could she? And what if he got angry with her? He was so strong, so powerful, she wouldn't survive an attack from him. She didn't want to think Mark would ever hurt her like that, but she hadn't thought Art would either. She sighed again, slipped out of Mark's arms, and pulling his tee shirt over her head, walked out of the room.

Mark's heart broke as he watched her walk out the door, he could only imagine what she was going through. He came here intending to tell her he loved her, but now that he was with her, he couldn't. Something inside him told him not to, that he would lose her if he did. He crawled out of bed, pulled on a pair of shorts, and followed her into the living room. At first he didn't see her and figured she went to the kitchen for a drink, so he started across the room. As he passed the sectional, he heard a soft noise coming from the other side and looked over. Tears filled his eyes as he looked down at Tess. She was sitting on her knees on the floor, her arms wrapped around her, her body trembling.

Tess fell back onto the sofa exhausted. It had been her forth day at work, but after being a stay-at-home mom for the past three years, it felt more like four weeks. With a great effort she leaned over, picked up the remote control and turned on the TV, flipping immediately through the channels until she found Smack down. She watched the matches in silence, for the most part, cheering only for the Undertaker and his "brother" Kane. Unfortunately, they were in a match against each other. She hated it when they fought each other, she never knew whether to cheer 'Taker for dominating and hurting Kane, or worry that Kane might have actually been injured that time, and vise versa. She knew the matches were staged, but that didn't stop the wrestlers from injuring themselves every now and then. The match was interrupted by the ringing of the phone and she cursed silently as she reached to pick it up. 'They always call while wrestling is on. They can't call when I'm bored out of my mind, no. They have to call while 'Taker is beating the crap out of someone.' She thought.

Tess hung up the phone hoping she hadn't just made a big mistake. She wasn't sure if her feelings for him were genuine or if they came from being on the rebound. Except she wasn't on the rebound, exactly, she was still married. 'Well not for long.' She thought.

A knock at the front door stopped her in her tracks. She was frozen in place for a moment, not sure whether she should answer it or not. What if it was Art? She found herself looking over her shoulder constantly these days, worrying he might be there. Then again what if it was Mark? He had already suprised her once by coming over unexpectedly. Smiling at the thought of seeing Mark again, she walked over and opened the door.

Art felt a tightening around his heart as he saw the fear in her eyes and heard it in her voice. She looked tired, worn out, but why wouldn't she? Thanks to him she had to work to support herself and the boys. He kept track of her after she left the hospital, careful not to let her know he was following her. He certainly didn't want to frighten her.

"I'm sorry, Tess. I know you don't believe me, but I never wanted to hurt you. The thought of you and him together..." He stopped, fighting back the anger that threatened to surface. Slowly he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, pulled out some papers, and handed them to her.

Tess stood still almost in shock at what had just happened. She walked to the door and locked it, then leaned against it with her eyes closed and took a deep breath. A minute later she heard him pull away. She pushed herself off the door and walked to her bedroom, turning off the lights as she went. After undressing, she slipped between the covers, her head spinning, and began to cry silently as she realized what had just happened. Although she was planning to divorce him, she never thought it would hurt this much. She wrapped her arms around her pillow, hugging it tight, and cried herself to sleep.

Mark reached into the flower pot on the porch railing next to the steps, and pulled out the key. Tess told him where she kept her spare key so he could let himself in the house in case she wasn't home when he arrived. She wasn't expecting him until tomorrow, but he couldn't wait that long to see her. He unlocked the door and silently stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Soundlessly he crept through the darkened house, easily making his way to the master bedroom.

After taking off his boots, he walked quietly to the bed and looked down at Tess. At that moment, he knew beyond all doubt that she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Slipping out of his clothes, he carefully laid down beside her propping himself up on his elbow, and watched her as she slept. Gently, he pulled the comforter down, revealing her naked body beneath. His heart raced at the sight of her bare skin, his head began to spin as he inhaled her scent, and the heat radiating from her body suddenly began to smother him.

He reached out and brushed the few strands of hair from her face and lightly stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. Tess smiled slightly in her sleep at his touch, sighing his name, and he smiled in response then leaned over and kissed the back of her neck while his fingers slid down her arm.

Tess' smile widened as she began to wake up, realizing that she wasn't dreaming and that Mark was really in bed with her. Instead of rolling over, she laid still, her eyes still closed, and enjoyed the feeling of his hand and lips on her skin, his body against hers, and his erection pressed firmly into her hip.

He chuckled as he brought his lips to her neck again and started kissing his way across her shoulder, stopping briefly to shower the 'thinking demon' with light kisses. Meanwhile, his hand found it's way back up her arm and and started down her back. He heard her moan in pleasure as his lips began their decent, covering every inch of her shoulders and back in in soft kisses. Slowly he made his way over her hips, down her legs and back up again, pausing when he felt her jump at the feeling of his mouth on her ass. Smiling wickedly, he held her down and showered her sensitive skin with feather-light kisses until she begged him to stop. Smiling satisfactorily, he continued making his way up her spine and back to her neck.

His hand caressed her thigh, gently pushing her legs apart, then covered the wet bed of curls nestled between them. She took a deep ragged breath as she felt his finger slide between her lips and over her clitoris, rubbing it firmly, and driving her insane with want.

He shifted his body over hers and slowly began kissing a trail of fire down her spine as his fingers continued their assault. After settling between her legs, he lifted her hips off the bed and buried his face in her velvety softness, tasting the juices his fingers had already elicited.

She moaned in pleasure as he buried his tongue inside her, thrusting it in and out, grazing her sensitive skin with his teeth, finally crying out his name as her orgasm washed over her. He lapped up all the juices her body gave him before sliding back up her body. He grasped her chin and turned her head so she was looking back at him, and covered her mouth with his in a hungry demanding kiss.

Without warning, he thrust into her hard, causing her to cry out into his mouth. Releasing her chin, his hand moved to her throat, wrapping itself around and squeezing until he felt her pulse beneath his fingers. His conscience told him to stop, but the animal in him continued to drive into her mercilessly. He leaned back, letting his hand slip from around her throat, and grabbed her hips, his fingers pressing painfully into her flesh, and pulled her back into him as he thrust forward. He felt her walls tighten around him and her body begin to tremble in his hands as an orgasm washed over her. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the sound of her voice as she screamed out his name.

In one swift movement, he pulled out of her, flipped her over onto her back, and looked down at her trembling body. Again his conscience warned him to stop his attack, and again his body refused to listen. Roughly he took her wrists and pinned her hands down on the bed above her head. He held them firmly in place with one large hand while he took her face in the other hand, capturing her lips in a brutal kiss. Slowly he lowered his head to her breast. Taking her nipple in his mouth, he bit down hard causing her to cry out in pain, then latched the wound with his tongue instantly replacing the pain with pleasure, then repeated his ministrations with the other. As his mouth worked her breasts, he pushed her legs open with his knee and positioned himself over her.

Slowly he pushed himself inside her and began to move back and forth, pulling almost completely out before filling her up again. Her walls tightened around him, her back arched off the bed, and she screamed out his name as an orgasm ripped through her. The look of total abandon on her face, the sound of his name on her voice, and the feel of her body surrounding him, squeezing him were more than his body could handle. With a few more strokes, he exploded deep inside her.

Mark collapsed on top of Tess, crushing her under his weight and quickly rolled off of her, then pulled her to him and held her close. He was hesitant to look down at her, afraid he might have reminded her of what Art had done and scared her. The last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him.

He felt her shift slightly in his arms as she tilted her head up toward his face. He knew what was coming and braced himself to hear her accuse him of being just like Art and demand him to get out of her life. He looked down and found her watching him, her face expressionless. He felt the need to say something, anything, but he couldn't find the words.

She continued to study him him in silence for several minutes. It wasn't until afterward, when he was holding her in his arms, that she thought about Art and the attack. She could see the concern and regret in his green eyes, and knew exactly what he was thinking. There was quite a difference between what Art had done to her and what Mark had just done. "There's nothing to be sorry about." she replied smiling up at him.

"I love you, Tess. I didn't know how much until tonight. I watched you sleep before I climbed into bed with you, and all I could think about was spending the rest of my life with you." He gently ran his fingers over her cheek and down to her throat, touching the bruise that was already forming there, then continued, "What happened tonight... It was built up frustration. I wanted... I needed that release."

Mark closed his eyes as he looked away as he saw the tears spilling down her face. How could he ask her that? After the hell her husband had put her through, how could he possibly ask her to marry him? And now there was nothing he could do but wait to hear her answer aloud.

Mark held Tess close to him and felt her sigh as she laid against his large body. He ran his fingers through her silver hair and inhaled deeply, drowning in the floral scent of her shampoo. It was almost impossible to believe that it had been sixty-two years since they stood at the alter together repeating those sacred vows. He looked down at his wife, whom he thought became more beautiful with every passing day, and took her chin in his hand, gently lifting her face toward his. Lowering his head, he captured her lips in a deep passionate kiss that still left them breathless. She snuggled close to him and he held her tight as they had every night they were together.

Tess smiled as she felt his arms tightening around her. She laid next to her husband content, as she thought about their life together. After her divorce, they never heard from Art again and Mark, eventually, adopted her sons, they also had a son and two daughters together. He wrestled as long as he could until extensive groin and knee injuries forced him to retire. After leaving the WWF, they bought a house in Cocoa Beach and he opened a tattoo shop which he passed on to their oldest son just two years ago.

Tess felt his arms loosen and closed her eyes as she felt him take his chest rise and fall one last time. She looked up and smiled at the peaceful expression on his angelic face. Leaning up, she pressed her lips to his then settled into her place beside him - her head resting on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest, her leg over his - just as they had lain their first night together. Then, taking her final breath, she joined him again, where they would be together for all of eternity.