Restless Heat

The heavy oak door clicked shut behind Greta, sealing them alone in the room. The very second the metallic latch caught, Kendall threw her weight to the side. She immediately tried to roll her body out of the massive bed, eager to escape the suffocating proximity of the man beside her. However, before she could even swing her legs over the edge, Declan’s large, heavy hand shot out. He grabbed her shoulder and firmly pressed her back down into the soft mattress, pinning her securely in place.

"She's already gone. There's absolutely no need for us to physically act anymore," Kendall insisted. Her voice rose in panic as she shoved against his solid chest, desperately trying to create some necessary distance between their bodies.

Declan did not yield an inch. His dark eyes locked entirely onto hers, trapping her gaze. As he gazed deeply at her flushed face, his voice dropped into an incredibly low, hoarse register. "Didn't you desperately want exactly this when you grabbed me under the covers earlier?" he challenged, his breath hot against her skin.

Flushed a deep, furious crimson and thoroughly exasperated by his sheer arrogance, Kendall snapped loudly, "I was just urgently reminding you not to let Greta walk over to my side of the bed and see the blankets! Are you a sex addict or something?!"

During her frantic, desperate grasp beneath the sheets moments ago, her hand had blindly searched for purchase. She had accidentally landed squarely on a rather unfortunate, highly sensitive spot between his legs. She had clamped down on his penis with such panicked strength that Declan cynically suspected she had actually wanted to permanently end his entire bloodline right then and there.

Stubbornly fighting to pull her trapped hand entirely out from his crushing grip, she twisted her wrist and muttered angrily, "Let me go right now. I need to go to the bathroom and wash my hands."

Declan’s intense eyes instantly darkened to pitch black at the blatant insult. "You're so disgusted by something you constantly use?" he interrogated, his grip tightening marginally on her skin.

"You should fully know that what I'm avoiding right now might not actually be an object," she retorted earnestly, staring right back at him without blinking.

The heavy, unmistakable implication hung in the silent room. She explicitly despised the actual person attached to the genitals, and not the organ itself. That realization instantly dissolved the last remaining shreds of Declan's previously amused, good mood.

Extremely coolly, he released her wrist. He magnanimously offered her the entirety of the massive bed with a sarcastic wave of his hand, and turned his back. He walked straight out of the bedroom into the adjoining study without another word.

Left utterly alone in the sprawling bed, Kendall felt exhausted to her very bones, yet her mind raced, rendering her utterly unable to sleep. She tossed and turned against the silk sheets for what felt like hours, searching for a comfortable position that simply did not exist.

Slowly, an unnatural, deeply suffocating heat began to consume her physical body from the inside out. Her skin flushed a deep, feverish pink, and a terrifyingly intense, unfamiliar ache settled deep in her lower abdomen. Her breathing grew shallow and ragged. Despite her lingering anger, she found herself strangely, obsessively fixated on the vivid, lingering memory of Declan’s strong, muscular arms pinning her down. The phantom pressure of his weight seemed to press against her heated skin, making her heart pound heavily in her chest.

Intensely frustrated by her own uncontrollable, wandering, highly erotic thoughts, she sat up. She agitatedly undid the tight buttons of her silk nightgown, exposing her collarbones to the stagnant air of the room. Desperate for relief, she kicked all the heavy blankets completely off the end of the bed to seek the cool air.

Sometime much later in the dead of the night, the bedroom door quietly creaked open.

Declan paused in the doorway. Seeing her restless, half-exposed body bathed entirely in the faint, silvery moonlight spilling from the window, he silently walked over. He slid under the covers on the empty, far side of the massive bed, keeping a calculated distance.

But before he could even close his tired eyes, the severe effects of the drug peaked inside Kendall's system.

Driven by a primal urge she could no longer suppress, a pair of uninhibited, unnaturally warm, and incredibly soft hands slipped straight between the open buttons of his pajama shirt. Kendall’s fingers directly touched his bare chest as her slender, bare legs intimately entwined entirely around his waist in the pitch dark.

Breathing incredibly heavily at her sudden, uninhibited, burning touch, Declan's cock instantly hardened against her thigh. Yet, his voice remained stubbornly, defensively cold in the darkness.

"You didn't want it earlier when I asked, so why are you playing this manipulative game of cat and mouse now?" he demanded, his hands gripping her thighs to halt her friction against him.

Completely tormented by the chemical fever invading her every sense and destroying her rationality, Kendall couldn't possibly care less about his biting sarcasm in this moment. The desperate ache eclipsed everything else. She merely let out a soft, incredibly needy moan against his neck, arching her spine to press closer to his heat.

Emboldened entirely by her sheer submission and the intense heat radiating from her body, Declan abandoned his restraint. He shifted his weight and pressed her body firmly and completely down into the mattress. He immediately claimed her gasping breath with a series of incredibly provocative, intensely greedy, and forceful kisses. His large hands mapped the curves of her waist and thighs, pulling her hips flush against his erection.

The overwhelming, passionate tension reached an absolute, critical breaking point. Declan’s hands grasped the fabric of her nightgown, moving to strip her bare.

Just then, his cell phone, resting on the nearby nightstand, suddenly shattered the heavy, erotic silence with a shrill, relentless ringing.

Declan ignored the relentless ringing for several agonizing seconds. His mouth continued to trail hot kisses down her jawline. But the sound pierced the dark room again and again, demanding his attention. Finally, he pulled his lips away, grabbed the call, and pressed the device to his ear.

Immediately, a woman's faint, pathetic cries of sheer distress echoed through the phone's speaker into the quiet room. It was Chloe.

Without a single, solitary second of hesitation, or even a fleeting look of regret, Declan abruptly pulled his entire body completely away from Kendall's heated grasp.

"Wait for me. I'll be there right away," he said urgently into the receiver.

He tossed the phone onto the bed and hastily and methodically dressed himself in the dark. He fastened his trousers and pulled on his shirt, hurrying straight out of the bedroom. He did not spare Kendall a single, backward glance from the very beginning to the absolute end.

Left entirely alone in the suffocating darkness of the bed, Kendall's drugged body continued to physically burn with a desperate, unfulfilled passion. Yet, her actual heart instantly turned into a block of solid ice.

She stared up at the ceiling, her chest heaving in the quiet room. They always said that absolutely no man could ever physically stop himself at such a critical, highly aroused juncture. So exactly what profound, incredibly sincere, and deep feelings must he secretly harbor for Chloe to just effortlessly walk away from his naked wife like that?

Lying utterly, terrifyingly motionless on the sheets, the bitter, horrific realization finally hit her muddled brain. The sweet pudding Greta had brought earlier was heavily drugged with a powerful aphrodisiac.

Her mind raced backward. Had their disastrous, traumatic wedding night three years ago been Greta and Agnes's doing as well? The loss of control, the searing heat, the confusion—it all felt exactly the same.

Unable to accurately tell if she was currently more deeply disappointed by his abandonment or fundamentally broken-hearted by his absolute devotion to another woman, Kendall forced herself to move. She forcefully commanded her uncooperative, trembling legs to carry her out of the bed and toward the master bathroom.

She turned the heavy metal handles, filling the massive porcelain bathtub entirely to the brim with freezing cold water. The sound of the rushing tap echoed loudly in the empty suite.

She then left the bathroom, stumbling toward the room's mini-fridge. She raided the small shelves, grabbing absolutely every single chilled drink, soda, and alcoholic beverage she could carry. Returning to the tub, she dumped the icy cans and bottles directly into the freezing depths of the water.

With tightly gritted teeth and tears streaming down her flushed face, she fully stepped her burning body directly into the freezing, punishing ice bath to forcefully kill the drug in her veins.