Same disclaimers apply. This chapter contains smut.

The Count of Trenton Proper

Part 2

He walked into his home some time later. He was exhausted from the events of the evening, both physically and emotionally. He had however, eliminated two of his enemies. Just one left; the worst betrayer of all, Joe Morelli.

"Carlos." She came out of the shadows as he walked through the living room. He instantly drew his gun and turned, cursing himself for being unaware of his surroundings.

His voice dripped menace, "I thought we'd finished our conversation in the limo."

"So had I until I realized you said the name Manoso. A name I never mentioned."

He held her eyes for several long minutes before tucking his gun away. He turned his back to her and proceeded to take off his jacket, "What do you want from me?"

"I want to be free of you; the way you are obviously free of me. Just a few answers from you and I shall be gone forever."

"Fine," he surrendered, "ask your questions."

"Where have you been?"

"Thirteen years in Guantanamo Bay and every other hell hole you can imagine."

"Guantanamo?" Her face was scrunched in misery. She asked softly, "Did you suffer?"

He let out a short, cruel bark of laughter, "Are you finished now? I have things to do."

Undeterred, she demanded, "Why didn't you come to me?"

He faced her and reciprocated, "Why did you not wait? You married the very man who betrayed me!"

She held up her hand to show him she still wore the promise ring he'd given her seventeen years before, "I promised you it would never leave my finger, and it never has."

Defeated he said, "If you, if you ever loved me, don't rob me of my hate. It is all I have."

Softly, she placed her hand on his bicep, "Let it go Carlos, let it go. I don't know what cruel fate has kept us a part these sixteen years, but God has brought you back to me. Please Carlos."

He swore, "God. Can I never escape him?" Any faith in God had been harshly beat out of him at Gitmo.

Stephanie smiled, "No Carlos, he is in everything. Even a kiss." She rose up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his. He returned her kiss softly before fisting his hands in the hair at the base of her neck and drawing her closer. Heat flared between them and he sought entrance to her mouth running the tip of his tongue over her lips. On a sigh her mouth opened and he swept his tongue in her mouth, tasting her; her sweet mouth so responsive to his. Their tongues dueled and loved until he harshly broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. With frantic movements, he kissed his way down her jaw and neck to the hollow of her throat. He traced it with his tongue before sucking the soft flesh into his mouth, marking her. She gasped under his assault, "Carlos."

Her words spurred him to even further action and he quickly divested her of her dress, leaving her standing in an ivory satin camisole trimmed in black lace with a matching garter and an ivory thong. Backing her into the wall, he reached down and rubbed her clit through her panties. She moaned and moved against him. Grasping her camisole he ripped it down the middle exposing her breasts. He tortured her, tracing her areolas with his tongue but avoiding her tight, puckered nipples. "Carlos, please." He ignored her and continued his motions, teasing her breasts and rubbing her clit. When her agony was almost more than she could bear, he grabbed one side of her panties in each hand and tore them away from her body. Roughly he sucked her nipple into his mouth and plunged two fingers into her dripping pussy. Her body convulsed and she came hard, her walls clenching tight on his fingers. Before she could recover, he had freed his throbbing cock and was pulling her thigh up his hip, opening her core to him. "Mine. You're mine Stephanie," without further hesitation he pushed all nine inches of his thick cock into her willing body. She cried out and convulsed around him, her body coming to climax once again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on as he drove her into the wall, pounding into her again and again. This act was not about love it was about his need, his anger, and the sixteen years that had been stolen from him. He could feel her coming close again, her body tightening around him. Keeping one hand under her ass, he reached up and pinched her nipple, eliciting another cry from her. He bent his head to the mark he'd made earlier, licking it gently. Then he bit it hard, stroked once more and released his seed into her pliant body. She came once again when he bit her and together they slid down the wall into boneless heap. "Babe."

When he'd recovered he scooped her up, kissing her as he went and deposited her on his bed. "Stay." While she watched he stripped off his weapons, two guns from his double shoulder holster, one from the small of his back, and one from his ankle, one knife from his forearm, three more from his belt and one long wicked one from his calf. To say she was surprised would be an understatement; her Carlos from so long ago hated guns and violence. He quickly shed his clothes while facing her and then crawled toward her. She shivered in anticipation. "Scared, Babe?" He asked as he settled between her thighs, holding his torso above her.

She shook her head. "Maybe you should be."

Finding her voice she said, "I love you, Carlos. I never stopped loving you. I'm not scared of you."

He made love to her after that, slowly and reverently.