"It's okay," she whispered, wiping a tear from her eyes. "We can try and fix it later."
They walked up the stairs to head into their bedrooms. Sunny stifled a cry and Aurora broke down in tears. Their keepsakes and mementos were now little more than dust. The perfume bottles they had each received from their mother when they turned 16 lay smashed in pieces. The bedding in each room had been slashed, drapery pulled of their rods. Feathers were all over the floor. More paintings that had hung on the wall lay on the floor, trampled by the many feet that had walked through. Jewelry boxes had been flipped upside down or thrown against the wall. The rooms screamed of violence and hatred.
Conor walked up to Selena and spoke softly. "Can you tell if anything is missing?"
"Not right now, since everything's a mess. I couldn't even begin to try. We'll go through this a little more thoroughly when we start to clean things up tonight." She sighed, her heart heavy with sorrow.
"Tomorrow," Conor replied gently. She glanced up at his face. "Selena, do you think I can't tell that you're exhausted and terrified? None of you will get a wink of sleep in this house tonight. I made reservations for all of you at the Windhaven Inn." He braced himself for an argument, knowing how much she disliked his dominating tendencies.
Surprisingly, she just sighed. "I want to yell at you for being so heavy-handed again, but I can't. So I'll just say thank you for being so considerate." She punched his arm softly at the shock on his face. "Don't be all smug though. It's the only time I'll let you get away with this. Don't expect me to let you steamroll your way through everything." The grin she had fell from her face and the look of quiet fear returned once more. There was a small tug of war inside her, but then she gave in to the urge, the need, for comfort. Walking closer, she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head upon his shoulder. A small sigh escaped as he hugged her close. "Oh Conor, why? All this destruction and for what? Why would someone do this?" She was floored by the devastation, terrified of the answer that whispered in the back of her mind.
Conor knew right then, with her in his arms, that he would do anything to keep her safe. "I don't know, sweetheart. But we'll figure this out. Together."
After they had packed some bags, Conor walked the sisters toward the car. Stowing all the luggage into the trunk, he told Jimmy where he was going to take them. After getting assurances that all was well there, he urged the sisters into the Mustang. He drove off, heading toward the inn at the center of town. The silence in the car was deafening. The night's events had finally taken their toll and the sisters were utterly drained. Just when they were about to pass out, he pulled up to the Windhaven. He checked them in and followed the porter to the suite. "Rory and Sunny, you two can take the double beds in that room. Lena, you go ahead and grab the master. I'll sleep out here in the living room."
They drifted into the bedrooms. Conor could hear the soft feminine murmurs, indicating that they were settling in. He went to the pull-out couch, getting himself ready for bed, when he heard Lena calling for him.
Walking into the master suite, he saw Lena sitting on the bed, shivering. He went to comfort her but stopped at the sight of her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her eyes were haunted and unfocused. Conor rushed to her side as she started to whisper. "I'm so cold," she said, "I've got these shakes that I can't seem to get rid of." Frantically, she grabbed his hand and brought it to her face. He swore he heard a low groan. "Oh, you're so warm." She leapt from the bed and onto him, burying her hands in his hair, her face in his neck. She writhed almost as if she wanted to crawl inside him. "Warm me up, Conor. I'm so cold and I need you to make me warm again."
With a vicious oath, he clamped his hand around her waist, intending to pull her off of him. Only to find that he couldn't, and was instead pressing her even closer. "Honey, this is not a good idea." He groaned as she pressed herself against his hard length. "You've had a rough evening and you're distraught. I can't take advantage of you like this."
Raining kisses across his face, she mumbled, "You aren't. I need you to make me feel whole and safe again. God, I need you so much. Please."
At her words, he felt himself get even stiffer than before. Hell, he hadn't gotten this hard since he had been a randy 16 year old. "Um, Lena, sweetheart. We really need to slow down. I don't want you to do something you're going to regret." He stopped talking and groaned when she raked her hands down his chest. He hadn't even realized that his shirt had been unbuttoned. "I don't think I can keep up this white knight routine for much longer. And you'll hate both of us in the morning if I don't."
With her legs wrapped tightly around him, her dress had pushed up to her waist, allowing her to grind her hot center against his stiff rod. For a moment, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he almost didn't catch what she said.
"I won't hate you. This is what I need." She nipped his ear and whispered hotly. "I need to feel warm and alive and there's no one else that I would rather be with than you right now. Won't you be with me?"
At her breathy plea, he lost all control and slammed the door shut, flipping the lock. He didn't want anyone to interrupt this dream. Pulling her up against his body, he slammed his mouth along hers. This was no soft seduction, but rather a ravaging lust. He peeled the dress off of her and his breath caught at the image her body presented. She looked like a Christmas present, wrapped up in red bits of satin and lace and still wearing those hot fuck-me heels. "Aw fuck, baby. Don't know how much help I'll be warming you up. You're pretty damn hot the way you are."
She purred, sliding her hands down along her body, skimming along her hips. "I'm sure you can turn it up a bit more." Her hands slid up her torso to her chest, cupping her full breasts and presenting them to him. She pushed the cups down and gently rolled her nipples between her fingers, her back arching at the pleasure. "Are you going to be a spectator for this show or a participant?" she moaned.
"Definitely a participant. But I'm certainly enjoying the opening act." He took his shirt and shoes off and began to unbotton his pants.
"Wait," Lena said. He paused at her demand. "I want to do that." She eased down to the floor and slowly unbuttoned his fly, all the while maintaining eye contact with his midnight gaze. She slid her hands inside then eased his slacks down, taking his boxers with them. He stood there, naked but strong. The hard planes of his chest and abs mader her hands itch with the desire to stroke him. And speaking of stroke. He was so perfectly shaped, thick and long. Just perfect, a freaking work of art.
He lifted her off the floor and carried her to the bed. After easing her down to the mattress, he stretched out beside her and cupped her face. Solemn and silent, he gazed down into her eyes. They had turned to peat smoke again and were too cloudy to reveal any of their secrets. All he could see was her need and desire. He slowly lowered his head to rub his lips gently against hers. Lingering, he couldn't seem to get enough of her taste. Sweet and tart at the same time, just like her. His hands dove into her hair and slowly pulled her head back, gaining access to her neck. She gasped at the absolute dominance of the gesture. "Oh Conor."
"You like that , don't you?" murmured Conor against her neck, licking the sweat off of her skin. "You're so classy on the outside, but inside, in here, you want it a little dirty, a little rough." She tried to shake her head, attempting to deny his claim, but his fist in her hair prevented her movement. "That's okay, sweetheart. It's easy enough to find out if I'm right."
Keeping a tight grip on her locks, his other hand started to roam down her body. Undoing her bra clasp, he cupped her breasts. His palm grazed against her nipple, causing it to pucker tightly. He tweaked them gently, slowly increasing the pressure. The tighter his fingers became, the more Selena would writhe and moan. He was overwhelming her completely, taking her over. "If I touch you right now, will I find you hot and wet for me, Lena? Is your cunt honey flowing from my touch? Do you like it when I'm rough with you?"
With his words whispered hotly into her ear, she twitched and moaned. She could feel her juices gushing between her thighs. He let go of her hair and kissed her with carnal hunger. Grasping her wrists, he pulled her arms above her head. "I really want to taste you. I have to taste you," he groaned hoarsely. "Now don't move those arms." He leaned his head down and took her nipple into his mouth. She let out a cry as he started to suckle them. He laved them with fervor, tasting her succulent flavor. Her hands keept fisting in the sheets, trying to obey his command. He nipped them sharply and she screamed with pleasure.
Darkly thrilled with her response, his hand began to drift lower. "Well, I think that was a pretty clear indicator, but for one final test..." His hand played along the inside of her thigh and he ran his thumb at the point where her hips met her thighs. She gasped, the sensation almost too much. He marveled at the softness of her flesh and at her responses to his touch. He drifted lower and lightly stroked her through the dampened satin covering her mound. Conor groaned at what he found. "Honey, you are so wet for me."
She whimpered at his light touch. She wanted more. Harder, deeper, faster. As much as she could get. But his teasing flicks and brushes weren't enough to push her over that cliff. They drove her higher, made her hotter. Lena held her breath as his finger started to slip under the band of her thong to stroke her core. He dipped his finger into her honeyed well, swirling around in her juices. Conor flicked her click with the tip of his finger. She could feel the pressure building with every little dip, swirl, and flick. She was right on the endge of that precipice, only to have him pull back. She cried out to him, and reached out to touch him. "Now, Lena, I'm not going anywhere. And what did I tell you about your arms? Do I need to punish you?" At her low moan, Conor's smile turned feral. "Oh babe, you were made for me. You're dripping at the thought of being punished, spanked."
He didn't wait for a response but gripped her hips and flipped her on to her stomach. Without a pause, he shackled her wrist with one hand. Conor could feel the tremors wrack through her body and he stroked along her back and ass with his free hand. "Shhh," he murmured, "It's alright, Selena. I know what you need. All that tightly held control needs somewhere to let go. And I'm the only one you can trust, the only one you can be free with."
Her thoughts were chaos, but somehow, she knew he was right. Deep down, she was tired of being the one in charge. She was always the responsible, the one to take care of things. For just one night, she wanted to be taken care of. Lena shook her head. No more deep thoughts. "Conor, please!" she begged. "God, please touch me."
