“No, I heard you,” he said, cutting me off.
I hung my head. “It was Valentine’s Day. I was lonely.”
Mark shifted uncomfortably on the bed.
“I cried the whole time.” I thought that might provide him some relief.
He looked up sharply. “Did he force you?”
“No. Nothing like that,” I said. “I cried because I was lonely. And because I didn’t love him.”
“Jesus, Cadence,” Mark whispered. He grabbed me roughly and pulled me onto his lap. He held me tightly. “I’m sorry I did that to you.”
And then I felt shaking that signaled despair. And tears.
I whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry I did that to you.”
“Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I’m the jerk who pushed you away,” Mark said.
I felt his tears fall onto my bare shoulder and couldn’t stand it. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I clung to him harder, trying to still the shuddering of his body as he poured out his grief. The tears were soaking my neck, my shoulder, and I grew frightened.
“Stop it!” I cried. “Just stop it!” And I jumped off his lap, tearing off my bra and panties.
Mark looked at me confused.
“I don’t need your tears,” I said. “I need you to love me.”
I climbed on top of him, straddling him, and kissed his lips. I felt his body shudder again, but not from crying. He was aroused and struggling against it.
“Cadence, not right now. I want to. I do. But I’m afraid I’ll hurt you because I want you too much. And I can’t control it,” he said.
“I want you to hurt me,” I said. “I want you to do whatever you want.”
“Cadence . . .”
“Please love me!” I screamed, and Mark didn’t argue. He scooped me up and laid me on the bed in one swift motion. He stripped naked and climbed on top of me, resting his full weight on me.
“I feel possessive of you.” It sounded like it hurt him to say the words.
“I want you to,” I replied. “I want you to possess me.”
He nodded and cupped my face tenderly. “I’ll take all your breath away, Cadence.” My eyes grew wide with fear until his next words. “But I’ll give it all back. I promise.”
He leaned in and kissed me, sealing his mouth over mine. He breathed in deeply, sucking all the oxygen from my body, and I pushed frantically against his shoulders. He pushed up onto his elbows, and I coughed and gasped, breathing in fresh air until he lay on me once more, sealing his mouth over mine, and stealing my air again.
On and on he stole my breath, gave it back, only to take it away again. I fought him, squirming violently under his weight. It was a natural reaction, though I didn’t want him to stop. I never wanted him to stop taking from me. He wouldn’t let up, and I surrendered to his mouth, surrendered to the feeling of my life hanging in the balance each time he robbed me of air.
This was my punishment.
He reached under me and lifted my hips, plunging into me. I cried out, only to be silenced by his mouth once more. He moved his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks, stroking me softly while he stared into my eyes.
“You’re mine. Forever,” he whispered, and rolled us over carefully so that he wouldn’t break our union.
“I’m yours,” I replied, straddling him. I breathed deeply, reveling in the security of being claimed, the pleasure of being punished for my unfaithfulness. But I realized he needed to be punished, too. He broke my heart. He left me alone to suffer for weeks and weeks. He drove me to sleep with another man.
I placed my hand next to his face for support while the other went to his throat. He didn’t push me away. He watched me the whole time as I increased the pressure of my fingers around his neck, slowly denying him air.
“You’re mine,” I said. “Forever.” And I rode him slowly, squeezing his throat until he grunted and begged for air.
I loosened my hold on him, allowed him to suck in one quick breath before squeezing his throat again.
“Only mine,” I said, feeling a foreign kind of power creep through my limbs. I thought I could choke him longer, make him pass out, then lean over and resuscitate him. Bring him back to life. Bring us back to life.
“Mine!” I cried, feeling greedy and dangerous, squeezing him harder.
“Yes!” he wheezed, grabbing my hand and tearing it off his neck. He twisted his fingers in my hair and forced my lips on his. It was a brutal kiss—our teeth striking painfully. Lips bruised and bitten. Tongues wresting and writhing. There was nothing pretty about it. It was anger and passion and punishment all at the same time. And I couldn’t get enough of it.
I crushed my body to his, frustrated that I couldn’t get closer. I didn’t know how, but bare skin on skin wasn’t enough. I needed more; I needed a fusion of hearts.
“Swear it,” I said into his mouth. “Swear that you’re mine forever.”
“I swear it, Cadence. I swear it on my life. I’m yours forever.”
He loved me all night and into the morning. He loved me until I was so sore I could barely sit with my legs together. He loved me until I had nothing left to give him, until I was famished. And then he cradled me on his lap, fed me, stroked my hair, and told me all of his plans.
And every single one included me.
“Is there something you need to say to me?” I asked.
Gracie shrugged. She had approached me in the school parking lot. For a brief moment I was hopeful that she wanted to make amends to our friendship, but the sinister smile playing on her lips told me otherwise.
“Why are you smiling like that?” I asked.
“I went to the movies this weekend,” she replied.
“Good for you.”
“I saw a 9:30 movie,” she explained.
I nodded, too dense to make the connection.
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Mr. Connelly happened to be there.”
Fuck.
“Well, lots of people go to the movies,” I replied. My heart was sinking fast. How much did she see? How much did she know?
“Come to think of it, you were there, too,” Gracie went on.
I stared her down in an effort to scare her. Didn’t seem to work.
“It looked like you two were on a date.”