He frowned, not getting it.
"Will I move out then?"
He stood, pulling me into his arms. "That's up to you, but I certainly hope not. This isn't a temporary fling for me, Catelyn. I want you here. Period. Not because of a head injury or because your friend is missing. I want you here because I like that the sheets smell like you after you've slept in them. I like having memories of you in this house. I like how the sound of your life makes this feel like a home and not just a place to get lost in."
He handed me a key ring with two keys on it. "What are these for?" I asked.
"The silver one is for the house, and the black one is for the car. It's yours. I have my motorcycle."
I rested my head on his chest, feeling his heart beat through me, and sighed, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I love you."
He kissed the top of my head. "I love you, too."
I couldn't imagine ever feeling that this was really my home; it all still felt so much like Ash. But when Mrs. Brown came that night to make dinner and I said I'd like to do it, Ash smiled and told her to take the night off. He helped me cut carrots and red bell peppers and we made salads with grilled chicken and had a quiet dinner. After, we sat together, cuddling and watching television.
When Ash's hand slipped under my blouse to cup my breast, I sighed and moved closer, pressing my body against his as the television droned in the background.
Our kisses started softly, touches gentle and tame, but passion took us in an escalation of need and desire. Our lips pressed harder, hands groping desperately to remove the clothing that stood between us, blocking our flesh from meshing together.
When Ash bent me over the couch and fingered me, I moaned, leaning into his hand, begging for more as one arm reached around to squeeze my nipples.
It felt good, so good, but I needed more to fight off the pain and sadness of the day, of the collection of darkness coalescing in my life like shadows huddled together or skeletons cluttering my closet.
I needed something I didn't know how to articulate.
Ash seemed to sense this growing urgency and everything became heightened as his tenderness turned to rough pleasure. When he finally slammed his cock into me, leaning over my body to nip at my neck with his teeth, I knew it wasn't enough.
"More," I begged.
"More what?"
"I don't know."
His hand landed across my ass in a sharp burst of pain that startled me. I paused, reflecting on if that's what I needed.
"Do it again."
He smacked me again and the pleasure and pain joined into something new, something that satiated the gnawing need in my body and mind.
Our lovemaking turned wild, loud, almost violent in its need. I could feel the burn of his handprints on my flesh and craved more.
Each smack and thrust brought me closer to orgasm.
My pussy clenched, and in a rush of heat and flames, we came together. I screamed. Roared. Released everything in me.
And then I collapsed into his arms as we lay on the floor in front of the fire, naked and sweaty and breathless.
I didn't speak for some time, waiting for my heart to slow and my breathing to return to normal. "Why does that feel good?"
"What?"
"The pain. Why did I like it?"
He turned to face me, propping himself up on his elbow. "The line between pleasure and pain is thin. Sometimes straddling it brings out those sensations more intensely."
"Is there something wrong with me?"
He kissed my nose. "No. It's completely normal. More people than you'd think enjoy it rough from time to time. Is it something you'd like to try again?"
I nodded, biting my lip.
"There are a lot of things we can try together, sweetheart."
I knew some of those things, had studied them while researching for my job, and I wondered how many of them I'd find enjoyable with Ash. The thought titillated me, but then reality crashed down again and I remembered what I'd been trying to forget about.
"What if they don't find her?"
"Bridgette?"
I nodded.
"They will. Or we will. I promise."
***
Ash's car attracted more attention than I would have liked when I pulled in to the parking lot near the law school. But, given the wealth on this campus, it didn't stand out nearly as much as I feared.
I thought I'd avoided any press intent on talking to me when Ash ran interference that morning, but I didn't count on the stupid on-campus journalists who wanted the local scoop on the “Girl Who Survived—Twice.”
Two of them ambushed me just outside of Cavin's office. "Catelyn, can you tell us anything about Bridgette's kidnapping?" the aggressive brunette asked through overly bright lips, notepad in hand as her sidekick photographer snapped unwelcome pictures of the back of my hand and head.