Desolation

He flinches and his eyes move to mine.

“And if you think your words can send me away after I just spent half a day worrying if you were even alive, then you’re very wrong. I’m here, Tyke. Through thick and thin. So you can either talk to me, or I’ll just sit here and wait until you are.”

I sit at the end of the bed and he just stares at me. He’s confused and a little shocked, judging by the expression on his face.

“I let them take you,” he says in a raspy voice.

“And?”

“And I didn’t stop them.”

“Jesus, Tyke,” I cry, throwing my hands up. “You were alone. Do you think any one of those guys out there would have been able to take on three men with guns? Do you?”

He looks away, his face tight.

“You know I’m right,” I say softer now. “You aren’t healed right now, but it doesn’t mean you never will be.”

“I won’t,” he barks, running his hands through his hair.

“Stop it,” I yell. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Tyke. You have bad legs—that sucks, but it doesn’t make you less of a man. It doesn’t mean you’ll never be normal again. Imagine if you could never walk? Imagine that.”

“I couldn’t even ride,” he yells, so loudly my ears ring with his voice. “I couldn’t run. I couldn’t fight.”

“But you did ride, you did run, and you did fight.”

“And you got taken because I failed!”

“No,” I screech. “I got taken because you were faced with a situation no man could handle. Jesus, Tyke. You’re getting better every single day, but you just want to snap your fingers and make it all go away. It doesn’t work like that.”

“I couldn’t take care of the woman I love. What happens if we have kids? What then?”

“You’re thinking about something that hasn’t even happened,” I cry. “You’re thinking about the future, and not right now. Your legs aren’t healed yet, Tyke, but they will be soon.”

“I’ll never be normal. Do you understand that?” he spews at me, tugging his russet locks.

“No, I don’t, because I don’t want fucking normal.” I stand and get in his face. “I never wanted fucking normal. I want you. I want your legs. I want the life you can give me, whatever that is. I want to keep the way you make me feel. I want to breathe you in every single fucking day. I don’t care about what you are. I love you, Tyke. That’s all I want; it’s all I’ll ever want. Now you stop it, do you hear me? Stop it.”

He stares at me, mouth slightly agape. I’ve never sworn at him, and I’ve certainly never spoken to him like that before.

“Are you going to keep feeling sorry for yourself?” I whisper, stepping closer. “Or are you going to kiss me?”

He thinks on that for only a second, then he steps forward and crushes his lips down on mine. He kisses me, hard and bruising. He backs me up to the closest wall and slams me against it. Memories of what Santana said flitter through my mind, and I recall her saying how amazing it feels to be fucked against a wall. I wrench my mouth from Tyke’s and whisper, “Fuck me against this wall, Tyke.”

He stares down at me with lusty eyes. “Anything you want, baby.”

Then his lips are back on mine and we’re ripping at each other’s clothes with an intense frenzy. My shirt goes first, then my shorts. Tyke drops his jeans and rips my panties off, then we’re roaming each other’s bodies. His mouth is hot against mine, his hand is aggressively groping my breast, and I can feel him pressing between my legs. One of his hands finds my hip and he grips me hard, pinching the skin there.

I gasp and reach up, tangling my fingers in his hair. I run my nails over his scalp, scratching until he hisses. With a feral hiss, he plunges inside me without warning. I cry out his name and hang onto his shoulders, loving how amazing it feels to have him slide inside me without any hesitation. He starts thrusting his hips, hard and fast, driving in and out of my body so hard our skin slaps together.

“Oh, God, Tyke,” I scream.

“Fuck, yeah.”

He drops his head, taking one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking and licking until both of us are panting against each other. I moan his name, arching back until my head hits the wall. I come before Tyke, hard and fast. He growls my name and mutters, “Come again. Going to make you come again.”

I clutch his shoulders as the swelling between my legs calls for more and more pleasure. He fucks me hard and deep and long, until I’m rising again. I dig my nails into his shoulders and scream his name as my second orgasm rolls around. This one is more explosive, more powerful, and so real. Tyke fucks me harder and harder, slamming our bodies against the wall.

“Come with me,” he barks. “Come.”

I do, exploding for a second time around him. He lets out a ragged breath and then his body stills inside mine. I’m so aroused I can feel his length pulsing inside my sex. I love how that feels. I love how it makes me feel.

Slowly, Tyke pulls back and pulls out, lowering me to my feet. He stares down at me, his expression soft. He reaches over, running a thumb over my lip.

“Let me shower you, baby. I need my hands on you some more.”

My heart softens, and I let him lead me to the shower connecting to this room. He pokes his head in first, making sure no one else is using it, then he pulls me in. The shower is only small, but it’s big enough for the two of us if we put our arms around each other. Tyke turns it on, sticking his hand in to see if it’s warm, then he pulls me inside.