Chapter 41: Syncope
A/N: Let me start by saying that this chapter and the following go hand in hand with one another and you'll see what I mean by the end. I'm just letting everyone know now so I won't get jumped in the comments and on Tumblr. Concerning the beginning of the chapter in particular, I've never written one that excludes such Knuck if you Buck energy and I'm so proud. The ending is a whole different vibe and you'll see what I mean when you get to it. Whew chile it's been a long road leading up to this point and I'm prepared to brave this storm this chapter is about to bring my way. Toodles!
Just when you think you might be able to get through the day without further distraction, the literal worst person walks in and dashes all hope.
At the sight of her, your good mood promptly tanks.
As one would expect, the woman wore a primarily black ensemble, a short overcoat hanging from her shoulders. To you, she resembled the female variation of the devil and the overuse of the black eyeliner around her eyes really sells it.
You hadn't physically seen her since you spotted her and John walking out of the hotel together - something you were still highly pissed about. And while you believed your significant other when he explained that there was nothing between him and the woman, your mistrust of her remained exceedingly prevalent.
The woman's nasty disposition had already caused you to dislike her and in your eyes, you couldn't possibly loathe her as much as you did currently. It truly irked you that you were once again staring straight into the woman's cold, mocking cerulean eyes.
There were a thousand thoughts and scenarios running through your mind and none of them were pleasant. The nerve to her to show up at the place where you worked. It wasn't like New York City as a whole was anywhere near small but still you shouldn't be running into her in this manner. Regardless, it couldn't have been coincidence and even if it were, you still found it hard to believe. You don't want to think of the reasoning behind her standing before you.
You just stood there, staring at her while the other woman smiled brazenly at you.
What possessed her to come here in the first place?
This isn't what you need right now. In view of the fact that you were still trying to take your mind off of what had occurred days prior with Winston, this would definitely make things more complicated than it already was.
Nevertheless, the outcome of this unexpected encounter wouldn't be good. That was for certain.
For a brief moment, you contemplated calling over Mia or Ethan to assist her but something made you decide against it. You wouldn't let her run you off from your job.
A devious smirk planted on the woman's pale features. "It's been a while."
The smug observation only served to irritate you further. The fact that she would even have the gall to speak so casually towards you if you were closely acquainted in any way was appalling to you.
Opting to take up a defensive body posture, you crossed your arms protectively around your front. "Not nearly long enough…"
She chuckled lowly, but you could see the tightness in her expression when you answered.
"Have I hit a nerve already?"
"Don't act like you know me. Why are you even here?" You questioned in a carefully controlled tone of voice.
You'd rather not let her take you there. No amount of attempting to mentally calm yourself down was enough when she was purposely grating on your already frayed nerves every time she opened her mouth.
"Well….I don't usually favor this side of town but I just happened to be in the area. I wanted to find a good choice of literature to take home. Think you can help me with that?"
You took a deep breath. "Sure. Are you looking for something in particular? A certain genre or topic?"
Along with acting as a bookstore, the shop also housed a supply of antique books, some of which weren't allowed to be purchased or taken out of the shop. They could only be assessed and read within the confines of the store itself, similar to a library.
"Mmhhh. Just something…interesting." She added.
You watched through a narrowed gaze as she idly walked over to a nearby shelf containing books and picked it up. After placing the book on the corner, she looked up at you again with a smug countenance.
When you saw the title of the book your brows immediately drew down.
The Oxford Handbook of the Economics of Prostitution it read.
Clenching your jaw hard enough to the point of it hurting, it was taking everything in you not to reach out and strangle her disrespectful ass. There was a reason why she chose this book in particular and the reasons ranged from purposely attempting to spite you and a genuine interest. You bet on the former.
As you've already learned from watching too many "Atlanta Housewives" episodes, if a person wants to have unwarranted beef with you, they're going to do just that. And Perkins was a prime example. As of now, it was well established that the both of you shared a mutual dislike of each other and weren't at all shy about displaying it.
Vehement animosity hung thick in the air between you both and your patience was running exceptionally low with the woman's incisive disrespect. You're not for any of the bullshit today and you had no interest in having any sort of dealings with her.
"Gotta say, I didn't expect something like this to be a day job for you. It's nice...modest, but honestly I think you're more suited to your night job instead." She innocently quipped, despite her tone essentially indicating that she viewed it quite negatively.
"I don't work anywhere else…this is the only job I have." You shot back with equal venom.
"Just how much do you make here? Minimum wage probably? Honestly, it can't be that much to make a decent living." She inquired, tilting her head to the side in a faux innocent gesture.
You drew down. She was asking too many pointed questions for your of accepting the bait, you chose to ignore the rude inquiries and comments the woman was carelessly spewing. Desperately trying to ignore the rising urge to lash out at her in the way she clearly wanted. You just wanted to ring the book up and get her out of the store as quickly as humanly possible.
"Like I said…this is my only job." You replied in a scathing tone, the back and forth already starting to annoy you.
"I'm sure offering your nightly services to the hotel pays pretty well. I'm not judging, I mean we all have to make money however we can."
"What the hell type of nightly services are you talking about?" You grilled, the frustration gradually mounted in you.
"You know what I'm talking about. I ran into you at the hotel after you'd just finished up business with a very well-known client. I mean…you must've been really good. I've never seen one actually escort one of you out to the lobby afterwards." She sneered, flashing yet another cold smile.
Was she implying that you were an escort for the Continental?
Based on the questions and the way they were worded, that very much seemed to be the case. By now, it was obvious that she was fishing for more information regarding the topic but there was no way in hell you'd tell her anything.
The way she spoke of women in the escorting profession hinted at a strong dislike. To be quite frank, you respected any woman knew how to acquire her own money even if the avenue was directly through sex work. You don't understand what her issue is regarding that to begin with. Engaging in that kind of work doesn't devalue anyone's worth or make them undeserving of kindness and respect. They were still human at the end of the day.
Technically speaking, sex work had been around since the beginning of time and you don't see it going away anytime soon. Nor will the social stigma around it either. As long as there's money to be made and sex to be had the trade would continue to thrive generously.
You realized all too late that was exactly what she thought of you - a lowly prostitute. Someone inherently inferior to her. It wasn't about you potentially having a connection to John. The very assumption was probably the reason why she treats you the way that she does. Not that that made it okay in any sense. Even if you were a high-end escort, that was your business and no one else's, especially not hers. Therefore it doesn't give her the right to shit on anyone's personal livelihood when she's involved in the profession she's in. It really pisses you off even more because it's entirely unjustified. Her having to resort to shaming tactics like this was honestly pathetic.
As much as you hated the thought, perhaps it was better to let her think that. After all, it wasn't like she was privy to the true nature of you and John's relationship.
Normally, you wouldn't have a problem keeping a cool head but seeing as how you were still struggling with your unpredictable emotions, self-control wasn't always feasible. Apart from the fact that she came at you wrong unprovoked from the first meeting, you just didn't understand why she was so pressed about you in the first place.
"What I don't understand though…is why I saw you being escorted out of the hotel a few nights ago? And by the concierge no less. Are you screwing the manager by chance?"
"Excuse me?" You ground out tersely.
She knew exactly what she was doing by making the exacerbating taunts. It was obvious that she was trying to invoke a reaction out of you. She sought to play games.
"It's just a simple question."
Rather unconsciously, your hand slid over the surface of the hardcover book. You were about two seconds from picking it up and knocking her off her feet with it.
By this point, you had enough of the goth bitch wannabe. Everything about her provoked contempt out of you. You had half a mind to call your friends to the store and run down on her. They'd already advised you to have them standby if you ever run into her again and her behavior definitely warranted a beatdown.
You stiffened when she moved closer to the counter, reducing the amount of distance between you. But after seeing the look in her eyes, you stood your ground. If she thought she was going to intimidate you then she could think again.
The woman's lips were tilted upwards in a knowing smirk as she made another inquiry, "I hope you don't mind me asking but what was he like…John Wick?"
You realized that this wasn't simply about John as you suspected - it was about her hatred for you. Through her verbal vilification, it was evident that she sought to shame and humiliate you. You knew that she could not physically harm you due to you being a civilian. So she would rather choose another method of attack - intimidation.
"That's not any of your goddamn business!" You shouted, pointing a finger towards her face.
She glanced at the finger once before returning her gaze to your enraged visage.
"Of course it is…it's everyone's business. Whether you're getting fucked on a regular basis." She spat, eyes gleaming with malice and spitefulness.
In that moment, any restraint you possessed before had all but vanished. Up until this point, you'd barely managed to keep yourself reined in but this was a whole other line she'd crossed.
"What the fuck did you just say?!" You exclaim, squaring your shoulders, nostrils flaring angrily.
Female assassin or not, you were fully prepared to snatch her ass across the counter.
Amidst the exchange, Mia had come to stand at your side and Perkins immediately cut her eyes at the woman. Electric animosity filtered between the two of them. Whatever was transpiring between you and the other Mia clearly wasn't about to let it unfold without her intervention.
Even in the midst of your outrage, you observed the silent exchange between the two women that bespoke of nothing but hostility. The stare between them is as charged as the energy between you and Perkins, regarding each other furtively with a focus that was wildly intense. No words were spoken between them.
Ethan smoothly cuts in.
Fueled by nothing but anger, you snatched the book and reared your arm back with the intent to throw it at her. The book didn't have the chance to fly through the air since Ethan raced over like the Flash and swiftly subdued you. "Hey don't…just calm down." He muttered to you.
You said nothing, only trying to break out of his hold until Mia took hold of your other arm. The pair effectively held you back as you tried everything to lunge at her, fully determined to get to her one way or the other.
"Stellar customer service guys…keep up the good work." She said, her eyes dancing with veiled amusement.
"Ma'am I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Ethan firmly stated.
In spite of this, you can appreciate your coworkers having your back at a time like this.
Perkins scoffed, a devious smirk still set on her lips as she looked at you. "Be seeing you."
With that, she turned on her heel and left out the door. When enough time had passed and they were sure that the woman was gone, the pair finally released their hold on you.
"What the hell was that about? Do you two know each other?" Ethan asked, gently prying the book from your hand.
"Not really." You said, trying to calm your irregular breathing.
While trying desperately to regain your composure, warmth trickles from your nose, gliding thickly over your lips. Bringing a hand to your face, red stains your fingers.
All three of you promptly freeze in place. Glancing confusingly at the pair, you could see the shock and concern marring their features. For a brief moment, it was like time had stopped and none of you moved. Neither of you knew what to do.
In the midst of trying to process what was happening, you started to feel incredibly lightheaded despite you drawing in steady breaths. Your vision started fading and your sense of awareness began to dwindle.
As you completely lost balance, the pair made obvious noises of alarm but as you went down, you could no longer hear them.
Then incalculable darkness…
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Waking up at a hospital isn't exactly something anyone genuinely wants to experience in any circumstance. But here you were, in a room sitting on an exam bed where the paper underneath you made noise every time you moved. Obviously it wasn't the ideal situation for you or anyone else in general. It had taken you a while to come to terms with what had happened even after it was explained to you multiple times. At the moment, your body is still tired and hasn't fully recovered from the blackout.
The whole thing was quite confusing to say the least and you honestly didn't know what to think. Something like had never happened to you before.
Regardless of the circumstances, the hospital took the incident quite seriously as expected of them. Not surprisingly, John had also taken the matter very seriously considering he was extremely peculiar about your health being compromised. You squeezed his hand tightly as a blood sample was taken from your upper arm. To you it's like it all happens in slow motion.
Having been examined thoroughly by the physician, you'd been asked both the standard and more personal questions about your bodily functions. Many of the questions pertained to your health and medical history and the topic of high pressure had come up. At one point, you found yourself considering the possibility of that being the reason even though you severely doubted it. You don't usually have issues with high blood pressure and you never have.
John was standing next to the exam bed, watching the proceedings quietly. Who knew what he was thinking at this point in time.
Doctor Harris was a petite black woman who wore glasses and had her box braids intertwined into one big braid that fell down her back. Although she looked like she could be just ten years older than you, you couldn't tell. For all you knew, the 'black don't crack' saying may very well apply to her. She'd done very well addressing any concerns and informing you of your current condition.
"You don't have any heart issues that we can detect and there's seemingly no family history of heart disease. Because of this, I won't prescribe any medicines just yet. I'd like to wait and see how things turn out in the next few days, although I'm certain that this is a one-time incident."
"Personally, it's my belief that this may be a case of vasovagal syncope."
"Um…what's that?" You interjected.
"It's when a person faints from experiencing overwhelming emotions, anxiety, or some kind of stress. Have you been experiencing any of those lately?"
Pursing your lips, you went silent immediately, hanging your head instead of offering a swift answer.
The pair quietly gauged your reaction.
You can practically feel John's eyes burning into you, clearly awaiting for some kind of response only there was none. You considered making up a lie but the fear of John possibly quickly deciphering it kept it from passing through your lips. Besides, too much time had gone by and your silence already spoke volumes to the other people in the room. Even if you wanted to deny it, your reaction had already given your answer away.
Sensing the suffocating tension in the room, the doctor loudly cleared her throat.
"Well…the good news is that you didn't hit your head and sustain a serious injury, but you still may want to take it easy and not engage in any strenuous activity for the next few days." The doctor calmly mentioned.
Upon hearing that, your heart dropped. Even without looking at John, you already know that you returning to work was out of the question. The fact that you could've collapsed anywhere and just so happened to do so at work made the situation even worse.
You stiffened, looking at her in troubled concern.
"Does this mean I can't go to work?" You stammered tentatively, your voice exceptionally light.
The woman turned away typing her notes on the computer to face you once more.
"I'm not necessarily saying that, that's entirely your call to make. But until we can find out where the problem lies, my suggestion would be to avoid strenuous activity and high stress situations."
Disappointment bloomed in your chest but you understood her reasoning, nodding in acknowledgement.
"We'll get your blood work into the lab. Hopefully, we'll have the results in a decent time frame." The woman continued.
"What's a decent time frame?"
"Likely in a few days or so. We'll give you a call as soon as they're in."
"Okay. Thank you doctor."
"My pleasure."
For most of the day, the sun remained obscured by dark clouds and a slight drizzle had poured down for a time. Thankfully, it's not enough for it to freeze over into ice.
You've been sitting at a small table overlooking the floor to ceiling windows, the bowl containing a portion of your dinner nearly forgotten as you reflected on the recent events. Most of your time has been spent being lost deep in your thoughts.
Truthfully, you don't know how you truly feel or where your headspace currently resides.
Although "prolonged spaciness" was a somewhat accurate term that could be used to describe it - you're not sad, bored, or stressed - you just are. Most distressingly, you'd become increasingly disconnected to everything around you, watching things transpire around you like a movie. It seemed like you could never find focus with your mind soaring like it was. It was probably more accurate to say that you were more absentminded than despondent.
At this point in time, you can officially consider yourself mentally and emotionally checked out for the preservation of your well-being. There was no other way to put it. It was only the second week of February and time seemed to be passing by without you noticing.
When you told Alexis and Jasmine about you collapsing at the store, they were understandably worried about you. And it was only when John was out of earshot, you proceeded to inform them of the confrontation with Perkins and they'd reacted exactly how you expected them to. The two of them essentially flipped and bombarded you with questions of why you didn't immediately call them. You didn't have an answer for them considering everything had happened in the spur of the moment and you could barely think past your anger.
As it turned out, you hadn't needed to come up with a plan to convince John to allow you to return to work, your employers reached out to you the very next morning wanting to discuss what happened. Apparently, they found the confrontation and fainting incident very concerning to the point where it couldn't be overlooked. When all was said and done, you felt as if they hadn't tried to see your side of the issue at all, instead focusing on your reaction to the supposed customer. Despite this, you bore in mind that the pair had no real knowledge of the type of 'customer' you dealt with.
In the end, they ultimately suggested that you take another leave of absence, essentially placing you on leave pending a thorough investigation until further notice. Ethan and Mia had attempted to advocate on your behalf but it went nowhere. The owners in their own words had said, "Rest assured that your job will be waiting when you come back but at the moment this was for the best."
That being said, it was hard carrying on with life normally after such a setback. So now, you were stuck in the house with no justifiable reason to leave it other than just to get out of it. The entire thing was very disheartening. The way you saw it, there wasn't any point in crying angry or sad tears - your attitude had already shifted into the 'it is what it is' stage and there was no going back. The mindset wasn't making life easier but it certainly wasn't making it any harder - it had only become more manageable as time went on.
Not being able to work really has you in your feelings especially since it was all you wanted after not being able to for nearly a month.
There had not been much conversation from you aside from only speaking when spoken to. You hadn't wanted to talk about anything and fortunately John didn't feel all that inclined to push you to.
Granted, you want to be able to pull yourself out of the funk but it was difficult when you saw no reason to. At the very least he understood that and you appreciate him for not being the type to give you shit about it. Even though you felt guilty for not being able to function normally.
And by this point, you could do nothing to assuage those worries.
A warm palm settles along your cheek, pulling you from the deep mess of thoughts. Glancing upwards, soft brown eyes gazed steady into your own. Admittedly, you didn't notice him standing there. He'd likely been trying to get your attention and you hadn't paid any attention.
"Have you finished eating?" He asked.
At the question, your eyes cut to the bowl that contained your partially eaten dinner before nodding once. Strangely, due to a lost appetite you had to force yourself to eat more than you originally wanted. Otherwise, the assassin wouldn't be satisfied with the miniscule intake as he'd become quite uncompromising in that regard and you'd rather save yourself the hassle.
Without another word, the man picked up the almost empty bowl you'd been eating from and strode unhurriedly into the kitchen.
By now, your significant other had to have noticed how psychologically absent you'd become and he probably thought that you were moderately unwell. While it was entirely possible that he held the belief that you still exhibited signs of stress from grappling with residual trauma related to the attack by the landlord, you knew the actual truth was far worse. You just haven't had the heart to tell him what was really bothering you.
Outside of the obvious, the situation was extremely problematic for a number of reasons. All of it weighs heavily on you, the fear of being found out, the guilt, the shame of carrying on knowing what you know. The timing of all of it was beyond inconvenient. You're not mentally prepared to deal with either circumstance at this point in time. Even so, it's totally unavoidable and you'll have to acknowledge it regardless. Just thinking of it sends a cascade of stress in your body.
Both the discrete meeting with Winston and subsequent run-in with Perkins just seemed like a bad omen and you don't feel as though you're equipped to handle the significance of both encounters. It wouldn't stay a secret forever and questions of what you should do when the time came plagued you as you're not naïve enough to believe that John would never find out about both encounters.
Worst still, you hadn't had the heart to tell John about what took place that ultimately led you to collapse simply because you feared what his reaction may be. Even though you wholeheartedly believed Perkins deserved to be shot directly in the face, you couldn't risk more scrutiny being brought on John. Not when you think he may be being pursued because of his calculative actions that were protective in nature. If he went after her then he'd likely have more heat on his back. You might end up causing an even bigger issue.
Withholding everything from him might not be the best course of action but what other choice did you have? You weren't prepared to face the consequences and the implications head on just yet. In the end, you decided that the most logical option would be to wait it out for the right opportunity to make it known to him. That led to another question of when exactly was the right time?
Of course, it was a rather foolish way of thinking but your recent actions seemed to reflect that same sentiment.
Through all of this, John had done his best to be of comfort to you. He really was your anchor that kept you secure in the midst of utter madness. You could tell that the man was worried about it without him having to say it.
Even after everything that had taken place, you never once asked about how he felt about all that had transpired. Was he just as conflicted as you? Clearly, he worried greatly over your well-being and would do whatever was in his power to preserve it even if he seemed like you weren't making any efforts to do so.
After some brief musing, you decided to get up and follow the man into the kitchen. Your footsteps are quiet and the man doesn't show any indication that he's aware of your current presence. You weren't surprised to find him standing at the sink doing the dishes with his shirt sleeves rolled up his forearm. Your lover had taken to doing most of the house chores since he deemed it necessary to handle the tasks as it stood. You hadn't asked him to, he was just that considerate.
In spite of the hotelier's words, there was nothing monstrous about him you could detect. In fact, he appeared more human than anything.
As you peered longingly at the expanse of his back, pondering at how you'd never seen him do the act before and how fascinating it was to watch as he carefully placed the newly washed and rinsed dishes to the other side of the sink before continuing to wash the other dishes.
Eventually, your gaze lowered to the man's lower back and then a tad bit lower. A strange impulse materialized out of thin air - an impulse you'd never had up until this point. It's not that often that you give in to your intrusive thoughts and now just seemed like a rare opportunity - one you didn't want to pass up.
Padding forward silently, you held your breath coming to stand directly behind him while contemplating whether or not to actually go through with the idea against your better judgment.
Without any further deliberation, you gave him a negligible tap on the butt with your hand.
The suddenness of the action appeared to have stunned him as it was completely unexpected.
For long moments, his body remained unnaturally still before he slowly began to turn his head, fixing sharp eyes onto your person.
"Don't." He sternly uttered.
While the solemn glare from the man gave voice to so many things, to you it mainly translated that whether or not your actions were done playfully didn't matter - it was not to happen again.
Perhaps worst of all, you clearly weren't taking him as seriously as you should.
The reason being that you believed that the man's austere reaction showed quite a bit of hypocrisy. He could touch, kiss and lick your backside but you couldn't jokingly smack his?
Seems wildly unfair in your opinion.
Having obviously not taken his warning seriously, you made the conscious decision to rear your hand further back and brought it back down on his backside with even more force than before.
Stepping back a few paces, you watched in growing trepidation as the man went frigid once again before he calmly sat the dish in his hands aside. With a collected countenance, he reached over and picked up a nearby towel, using it to slowly wipe the moisture from his hands before turning to face you directly.
The look along his features was nothing short of terrifying.
That was all the incentive you needed to dash from the room altogether.
The very realization of what you've just done sends a flood of adrenaline throughout your body as you shoot out of the room like a bullet.
Without having to glance behind you, you know that the man was pursuing you. It's a scary thing to know that a person was chasing behind you. You can't stand the thought of someone chasing after you for any reason and a simple game of tag as a child used to terrify you for that very reason. As far as you were concerned, an aggravated John coming for you was enough for you to run straight out of the house.
Legs working overtime, you cut the corner as quickly as you could manage in spite of you having on a pair of socks. And it probably didn't help that you're running from him like he was the cameraman from as you think you're gaining traction, the edge of the carpet catches your right foot at a wrong angle and after trying to regain your balance in a split second, you collide into the side of one of the couches.
You have to curse yourself at all the times you screamed at the tv wherever a ditzy character slips and falls running from the killer in horror movies. The outright silliness of the situation is just so funny to you.
As you made a calculated decision to pick yourself up from the floor, the swift introduction of firm hands were skating up your sides, causing you to panic and subsequently convulse. The panic wasn't born out of fear but rather a sudden mix of confusion and exhilaration. The light sensation of his hands had activated your ticklish reflex, quickly exposing how sensitive you were in those spots. That was all it took for loud uncontrollable chortles to force their way out of you in comical fashion.
Frankly, you're not sure if he's actually tickling you or not, you just know that he's going to seek his retribution in any way he sees fit, regardless of how it's achieved.
An even deeper belly erupted from you the moment the feeling registered in your sensuous. Your entire frame shook and you couldn't summon the energy to fight against the hands from subduing you. A good amount of adrenaline and amusement had you squealing like you lost your mind. You laughed for long intervals, seemingly unable to stop the mirth from sweeping you up in an inescapable hold.
How long had it been since you laughed as hard as this?
With as untrustworthy as your memory has been lately, your ability to remember might not even prove accurate. All you know now is that the current laughter blooming from your chest feels as strong as medicine. Healing all the mental and emotional wounds imprinted on your subconscious and momentarily blocking the anguish and numbness you unwillingly clung to sporadically. You hadn't realized just how much you needed this.
Through your laughter, you were able to surmount the emotional numbness, even if it were for a short fleeting moment of playful merriment. During this brief moment of levity, it was if you'd reverted back to your normal self, not plagued by stress and anxiety. For now, you could simply laugh and pretend that you were without problems. The notion was quite freeing and even John himself seemed to have taken note of it.
To your own self, you sounded so full of life, invigorated by your own childish actions. Laughing felt good and in turn it made you feel good.
Until now, you hadn't realized just how much you affected him in that moment. Considering that you'd been acting like a zombie for days just hearing you laugh must be very relieving for him.
When the feeling finally abates you're given a moment to breathe. It's only when you're able to regain your composure that you notice that his hands have stilled and his steely gaze was trained on you. Given his near lack of a reaction, you had no idea what he was thinking at this point in time and the smile slowly slipped from your face.
In a sequence of movements, you're shifted into a sitting position. Thoroughly confused, you blinked and craned your neck upwards to look at him.
He'd leaned in extremely close and your breathing begins to ratchet up just the tiniest bit. Not only that but the man gently takes hold of one of your hands, holding it in a tender manner. While it may appear to be an inconsequential gesture on his part, you saw it as a very meaningful one giving his affectionate nature. He didn't have to verbally communicate what he felt, you understood all the same. His physical touch resonates with you just as deeply.
As much as you hated to acknowledge it, somewhere in the midst of this, your connection to him had started to waver a tad bit despite your resolve to cling heavily to him while deep in turmoil.
Abashedly, you're just about to shift your gaze elsewhere to hide from his perusal when his face leans in even closer. Studying John's rapt expression, you can see the affection shining in his eyes and it causes your pulse to quicken, your stomach fluttering at the strangely concealed emotion in them.
If you didn't know anything else, you know that at this very moment - you felt cared for and loved by this man and it makes your heart ache something fierce. The emotions you believed you'd anxiously hid away now lay bare before him or more accurately all over the place.
Just as you parted your lips to issue what you assumed to be an apology, the reticent man's lips pressed softly to yours, effectively silencing you. You don't have time to question the unexpected action from him, instead leaning more into the kiss instinctively. Rather inexplicably, you hadn't expected the feeling of arousal to come over you so quickly.
Tiny prickles skated over your skin, the feeling it induced could only be described as nerves and excitement as his lips melded indulgently with yours. The kiss was extremely chaste, his mouth brushing against your own in light-feather strokes. Heart thumping, your body seemed to burn hotter at the proximity of his body and the intimate contact itself.
When his lips eventually left yours, your lashes fluttered dazedly and he merely stared intensely at your expression.
"John?"
Admittedly, there hadn't been much physical intimacy between the two of you and you think he may be jonesing for it. After all, it had to be quite the transition to go from having sex almost every other day to barely twice a week.
And now, you're entirely unsure of what inspired this new love-making position.
Your lover had gently placed you on your side in an intimate spooning position while situated himself behind you. Your legs were kept pressed closely together. It was a position fairly new the both of you hadn't tried before and you briefly wondered why.
However, despite him wrapping his arms around you for closeness, you believed that the both of you were as close as you could be. Frankly, the physical closeness made it that much more intense. You could practically feel relatively labored breaths lightly tickling your ear.
Once he slid into your slick channel, your entire lower half immediately began trembling, sinuous inner muscles squeezing around the invading shaft as if to prevent him from entering further. It felt like it had been so long even though it really hadn't.
At the same time, the lethal assassin's large hands glide over your smooth curves and eventually upwards towards your chest. He delicately cups the mound of your breast, careful not to add excessive pressure on the hardened brown peaks, instead tracing around the circle of your areola.
The hitman's left hand was positioned under your frame while his right hand toyed with your privates, his long, dexterous fingers stimulating several clitoral nerve endings. He rubbed generous circles around your clit, manipulating the flesh in a sensual dance of fingers.
For a time your paramour's fingers continuously played with your drenched folds, producing the most delicious friction that had you keening until he suddenly stopped. The hand he'd been using to fondle you had moved upwards slightly and began tenderly caressing the expanse of your stomach whilst he impaled you with gloriously veined, hardened flesh.
Amidst the strangled cries exiting your lips with increasing frequency, John tilted your face gingerly to the side to meet his, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into the wet cavern of your open mouth. The wet appendage brushed past your teeth, swiftly tangling with your own. You reached back to feverishly entangle your fingers in the man's dark tresses.
He finished the deep kiss by pulling his mouth away, choosing to position his lips along your neck while he kept filling you with his hot, pulsing erection. He kissed along the sensitive column of your neck while he gently rocked his hips against your ass. In a fit of indescribable bliss, you threw your head back into his shoulder as John sucked a sensitive area of your throat, his blunt teeth nipping at the flesh there before lathering your skin in saliva.
Once your body responded positively, John began utilizing a series of measured lethargic pumps, plunging into the moist depths of your extremely overwrought confines of your body. The feeling it induces is almost incomprehensible, pleasure ripping through you like lightning. You moaned wantonly, eyes rolling back as you helplessly clutched his tricep, trying not to claw the skin there. Contrastingly, your alternate hand held onto the underside of the pillow beneath your head. It took no time at all for you to be covered in a light sheen of sweat.
By rutting his entire foundation into you, John made sure that he was grinding against the tight walls of your soaked passage. It was very controlled sex that was full of emotion and therefore nothing short of a high intensity experience. It was dizzying, the sensation of his own heated flesh smacking against yours. Every bone and muscle in your body seemed to vibrate with relish. Over your shuttering gasps, you could faintly hear how his breathing was only slightly more strained than usual.
With heat coiling rapidly in your stomach, it was apparent that climax was imminent.
He soon changed the angle in which he entered you and you could feel every inch of him languidly moving inside of you. Thrusting into your gradually tightening orifice, rocking you into complete euphoria. You arched into him, desperate to feel more of it, undulating your hips in motion with his body, your frame rhythmically swaying with each gentle impact.
In the midst of this, the man rearmed a firm grip underneath your jaw and your soft mewls of pleasure quickly turned into deep throaty moans. He didn't slow the pace, instead he kept it entirely slow and intense, stiff girth steadily digging into your pussy with meticulous accuracy.
Having been bent slightly forward, you started pushing your waist back into him with equal fervor while he directly massaged that sensitive spot nestled along your aching depths.
Suddenly, you're cumming hard with a shattered whine, the taut ball of tension in your stomach finally unraveling. Your body fell into orgasmic tremors, your abdomen contracting painfully. Soon enough, John's hips start to slow and his warm essence spills into you a moment later.
As customary post coitus, a deep seated contentment washes over you in generous waves, lethargy starts creeping into your tired limbs. You're able to blink a few times until the lids of your eyes are too heavy to keep open.
Hours of the night passed by serenely, a thin blanket of moonlight casting a faint glow into the bedroom through cracks in the shut curtains hanging from the tall windows.
The bedroom was eerily quiet except for the sound of light breathing from the sleeping body next to him.
Soundlessly, the man rose into a sitting position, John's gaze shifted towards his sleeping partner, keenly observing her relaxed features. She was deep in the midst of sleep following their intimate proclivities and likely wouldn't wake until morning. This wasn't strange to him as she could never stay awake long enough afterwards. Having fallen asleep in the same position on her side, she remained facing away from him, breaths steady and even.
As it stood, there was something else that piqued his curiosity.
He brought a hand up to graze her cheek, not at all surprised when she didn't stir. The hand then migrated down the length of her frame, eventually stopping at her waist to push the fabric of her t-shirt up.
For some time now, her body had become a major concern lately for her and himself respectively. And given the recent trip to the hospital he had more than enough reason to conduct his own examination.
The man's calloused fingertips began to trail across the soft skin of her stomach, seemingly in a manner that was more analytical than rousing. The exploration started at the top just under her breasts and rib cage.
As the roaming palm of his hand traveled lower, he was startled to discover a taut firmness just behind her belly button that he hadn't recalled being present before. It was only slightly noticeable - a diminutive feature that could easily be mistaken for something else entirely. But what ultimately gave him pause was feeling the small barely protruding bump of her lower abdomen resting midway between her pubic bone.
The realization of which caused his eyes to soften in response.
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