Pretty much nothing but pure Kane smut. Proceed at your own risk! ;-)
Disclaimer: I do not own Kane or Glen Jacobs. But if I ever have the means to clone him, that bastard is MINE!
Chapter 1
The expensive i Phone disintegrated against the pale yellow plaster of the wall, which had been the obvious intention, based on the force with which it had been thrown.
Glen cursed, his hand running across the smooth surface of his head. He wondered how things had gotten to this point.
He was Glen Jacobs. Known to most as Kane. Or the Big Red Monster. Whichever moniker they preferred to use. But beneath the professional glitz and glamor of the wrestling world, he was no monster. Just a mortal man. An icon to thousands. An acquaintance to hundreds. A friend to even less. A husband to one.
Or at least he had been. Still was. For the time being.
The most recent phone call had ended the same as all the others in recent memory. In the throes of a passionate argument that he never seemed to win. The frequent absence that his career required was finally starting to take its toll on the relationship, the anger and frustration boiling over in every conversation that they had. He could sense the end coming. He could see it as plainly as if he were watching it on a big screen, as though he were just an observer. An innocent bystander who could do nothing but watch as the world unraveled around him.
Loud and intense, the argument that he'd just ended with the smashing of the phone had been, by far, the worst. Filled with accusations of deceit. Abandonment. Unfaithfulness. Threats of dissolution. Legal documents. Even a restraining order.
He felt tired. Defeated. The home that should have been a safe haven, the one that had been paid for with his own blood, sweat and tears, was instead a battlefield, scattered with a thousand mines that, at any time, might explode in his face.
Without offering a second glance to the plastic pieces scattered across the carpet, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. He needed to get away. Have a drink. Distract himself from the anger that was boiling inside of him. And now he needed to replace his phone.
He jerked the door open forcefully and stepped out into the hallway, surprising an unsuspecting woman, who happened to be walking past. She was much smaller than him. But then again, he thought, most people were. She was tan. Exotic. Long brown hair. Big brown eyes that gazed upon him without judgment. Without blame.
"What the hell are you looking at?" Glen sneered, his normally amicable demeanor replaced by a contempt that even his alter ego, Kane, would have trouble summoning.
The woman stopped two doors down from his, never taking her eyes off of him.
"I can help you." she stated softly as she slid the key card through the slot and opened the door. Then she was gone and Glen was by himself again, left alone to ponder the meaning of her words.
Help him? Hell yes, he needed help. Whether it was in the form of a marriage counselor, or an assassin, or a bottle of some mystery drug that would help keep the pain away. He needed something that would make him not care anymore.
He took a step closer to where, only seconds earlier, the woman had been standing and for the first time, noticed that she had left the door cracked. Whether it was intentional or not, he did not know, but it seemed to beckon for him to open it.
Hesitating only briefly, he moved closer, placing his hand on the flat surface of the door and easing it open.
She was standing beside the bed, watching as the door opened and he appeared in view. He thought it was as though she expected him to follow her, for there was no look of surprise on her face. Her words played across his mind, I can help you, and he wondered what kind of assistance this exceptional woman might have to offer him.
Neither of them spoke, only gazed at the other wordlessly, the room enveloped with a sense of peacefulness that Glen had not felt in ages. He studied the strange woman before him, taking note that the look that she returned to him was not one of recognition. This beauty did not hold the mischievous knowledge of a fan or a ringrat. She seemed curious. Intrigued. But not familiar.
He crossed the threshold into the room and instantly, he felt all of his anger dissipate, sucked from his body by some strange and foreign vacuum. He paused again, considering the new development. Those enchanting brown eyes still gazed upon him, silently beckoning to him, the woman still mute and unmoving before him.
He did not recall when he shut the door behind him. He was unaware of stalking across the floor toward her. But she did not retreat from his quick approach. Did not flinch as he pulled her into his arms. She surrendered to him without protest, her lips parting eagerly beneath his own as he kissed her, her arms lacing about his neck to pull him closer. He slanted his mouth across hers forcefully. Greedily. One hand fisting through her silky hair, the other clutching frantically at her breasts.
They fell clumsily onto the bed, Glen catching himself with a free arm to keep from crushing her, the jolt powerful enough to pull him back into reality. He was a married man. Even if everything was crumbling around him, he'd made a vow that wasn't meant to be broken. A vow that he had upheld to this day, despite the frequent accusations that were thrust upon him. This was wrong. It was forbidden.
He gazed down at the small brunette, who seemed to sense his hesitation, intending to extract himself from the precarious situation that he'd suddenly found himself. But even as he gathered his strength to pull away, the words echoed again in his mind. I can help you.
His eyes snapped to hers, questioningly, and he was captivated by the faintest twitch of a grin that played at the corner of her mouth. In a silent response, one hand slipped from the back of his neck, resting on his cheek as she guided his lips back to hers. The sensation bewitched him, sucking him back under her spell, his resolve shattered beneath sheer unbridled lust.
She WAS the help he needed. The unnamed antidote that he'd begged for to help relieve his pain. To soothe the ache in his heart.
With a renewed passion, he plundered her mouth with his tongue. Lavished the fragile shell of her neck and throat with soft kisses and gentle bites. His fingers working frantically to release the small buttons of her shirt without ripping the garment from her body in excitement.
All the while, her hands held him, touched him, explored him and he paused only long enough to rip off his own shirt, which she soundlessly urged him to lose.
How long had it been, he wondered to himself, as his mouth closed around one firm nipple, sucking it gently. How long had it been since he'd felt passion like this? How long since another had longed for his touch so desperately? He couldn't remember, his mind growing cloudy with need. Months? Years? He wasn't aware of exactly when the problems had started.
Small hands gripped his large shoulders, demanding his attention. He released one nipple, only to move to the second, his hand sliding beneath her to pull her to him. Slowly, he released her. Repositioning his hands on her hips, he kissed a slow torturous path down her stomach, over the soft dip of her navel, the muscles quivering in anticipation beneath his touch. He'd missed this. This urgency of need. This desperate fight for control. He missed this sweet agony of anticipation.
His grip on one hip strong, he held her to the bed, the fingers of his other hand tickling along the waistband of her jeans, before deftly unfastening the button. Effortlessly, she wiggled her way free as he pulled them down, throwing them carelessly over his shoulder, as he grasped her legs and pulled her back to him. Smiling, he resumed the same path he started moments earlier, his lips moving across her abdomen from hip to hip, where he once again held her in his grasp.
A faint whimper escaped her lips and he raised his eyes to her face, watching as dark hands slid up and over even darker breasts, teasing the erect nipples, before falling to the mattress on either side of her face. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing harsh. Her need as obvious as his own which was now throbbing painfully against him.
His gaze fixated on her, he dipped his head lower, tasting her, groaning with approval at the cry that passed her lips. Her back arched, her hands gripping the pillow tightly as he explored her. His mouth continued the sweet torment, her hips thrusting eagerly against his hand as thick fingers caressed her from inside out, bringing her again and again to the edge, but never allowing her cross that invisible line.
With a hunger he'd forgotten he'd had, he shed his remaining clothes, before rejoining her on the bed, acutely aware of how much he overshadowed her smaller frame. Drawing him in for another kiss, he allowed her to guide him, her legs slinking around his thick waist as he entered her.
The feel of her around him was too much, the last bit of sanity seeping out of him as he moved within her. She must have felt it as well, her breath caught in her throat, unable to issue a single moan or cry of pleasure as he withdrew and plunged forward again quickly. They moved together as one, whimpers filling the room as she found her voice again, gentle sighs of pleasure turning to harsh cries of need as the tempo of his thrusts increased. He felt her come apart in his arms, her body milking his as a thousand pinpoints of pleasure exploded within her, and she took him with her, a ferocious growl erupting from his chest as he came inside her.
How long they remained entwined together, how much time had passed since his shuddering release, he did not know. Everything seemed to stand still, nothing left of the world besides the two of them and what existed in this room.
He felt her stir beneath him and he moved to untangle himself from her, a surprised groan escaping his lips when he felt her legs tighten around his waist. She urged him onto his back, moving with him so that she was on top, still impaled on him. Soft hands ran up his stomach, across his chest, over his shoulders, to rest on the mattress beneath him. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his, ever so softly, before Glen pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.
She squirmed against him as strong hands gripped her to him. Shivered as feathery fingers trickled down her spine. Growing within her, he thrust his hips up sharply, swallowing her gasp of pleasure and surprise. She broke the kiss, her lips grazing across his jaw toward his ear. She bit the lobe gently and his hips jerked again in response, another whimper driven from her as he moved.
She was ready for him again, as he was her, her breath shaky as she braced her hands on his chest and sat upright, driving him deeper inside of her. His hands moved over her breasts, thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks into erectness, before moving downward to grasp her hips, steadying her. He forced himself to remain still, watching with wonder as she began to move on him, excitement coursing through every vein at the prospect of experiencing the sheer pleasure of her again.
Her head thrown back, breaths coming in short pants, she moaned as his thumb found her clit and began stroking it in time with her movements. She whimpered, shuddered, and Glen began to move within her, slowly finding the rhythm that would surely drive them both to madness. His eyes never closed, never traveled from her face, watching in enjoyment as her body strained for the release it so desperately sought. He felt her tighten around him, her body trembling, a strangled cry torn from her throat as she was thrown over the edge. His grip on her grew stronger, almost painful, and he thrust upward, his movements sharp and quick, seeking his own relief. Finally closing his eyes, he let the pleasure wash over him, grunting, cursing, growling, until the last tremor eased through him.
He found himself holding her, nearly crushing her to him and he was momentarily frightened that he had hurt her, until he felt soft lips on his chest, kissing the smooth skin above his heart.