I pulled her wrists together and gathered them in one hand before reaching down and taking my cock with the other hand.  I wrapped my fingers around the shaft and stroked it a couple of times.

“Maybe you need to keep your mouth shut,” I suggested as an alternative.  “Maybe I need to give you something to fill it up for a while.”

Her eyes narrowed again.

“You think I’m really in the mood right now?”

“I think you’re usually in the mood for my cock, yes.”

“I’m mad at you,” she reminded me.  She twisted her hips a bit but stopped as I tightened my thighs against her body.

“You aren’t going anywhere,” I informed her.

“What?  Am I your prisoner now?”

The images I had of her restrained in my bed entered my head again, and they were accompanied by thoughts of me holding her legs up against her chest as I fucked her.  However, as I looked down her body and then up to her face, I could see she wasn’t sharing my fantasy at the moment.  Her eyes went from flashing anger to somewhat fearful as she looked away from me.

It pissed me off.

“I don’t like this,” I fumed at her.

“Don’t like what?”

“Arguing with you.”

Lia’s eyes narrowed at me.

“So stop it,” she suggested, “and be reasonable.”

“I don’t want to be reasonable.”

“Well, what do you want then?” she snapped back.

I let go of my cock long enough to use that hand to unbutton Lia’s blouse and pull it open.  Her bra hooked in the back, so I reached inside the cups and pulled her tits out where I could see them.  I glanced back at her and saw her lip sucked into her mouth and her throat bob up and down.  Her eyes were wary.

“You afraid of me now?” I asked.

“A little,” she admitted.

“I told you I would never hurt you.”

“What exactly are you doing now?”

“Are you in pain?” I asked.  I already knew the answer was no.  I wasn’t holding onto her tightly—just firmly so she couldn’t move.  She was barely struggling underneath me, which was actually serving to turn me on even more.

Lia shook her head.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said.  “I do want to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, though.”

There it was—the slight parting of her lips, the rush of blood to her face, and the increase in her breath as her eyes darkened.  The fear and hesitation were quickly replaced by additional quick glances at my cock and the sight of her tongue reaching out to moisten her lips.

I didn’t ask her if she wanted it.  I didn’t need the confirmation.  I only needed her to lift her hips a little so I could drag her shorts down her legs, which she did without much prompting.  Her panties were still around her knees, and her bra and shirt were still partially on, but it was enough for my tastes.  I ran my hand up her body, pinched her nipples slightly, and then ran the back of my hand up her neck.

I took two fingers and pressed them against her lips until she parted them. I slid them inside her mouth.

“Suck.”

She complied, and the feeling of her tongue over my fingers made me realize I’d never had my dick in her mouth.  I only half considered straddling her face and fucking her mouth, but I knew I was still angry and pounding her pussy was a much better option.

I pulled my wet fingers out of her mouth and then reached down to run them over her pussy lips.  One of them found her entrance, invaded it, and was quickly joined by the second one.  I decided she was as ready as she needed to be, pulled my fingers out of her, grabbed my dick by the base, and lined it up.

In one quick movement, I was deep inside of her.

Lia jumped and cried out with every thrust as I slammed into her—quick, hard, mercilessly.  I gripped her wrists in both hands as I leaned over her, my heart pounding in my chest and my breaths coming in rapid gasps.  Sweat quickly collected over my skin, but I didn’t slow down—I just fucked her harder.

Her body rocked beneath me, causing her tits to shake and bob deliciously, but I could only feel where we were connected.  Her body hugged my dick, stroked my shaft, and gripped down on me as she pushed her panties the rest of the way off and wrapped her legs around my waist.  She cried out again with a shudder.

With a long, loud grunt, I emptied into her but didn’t stop pounding my cock into her body until I had completely finished coming in her.  Even then, I stroked my softening dick in her a few times as the muscles in my arms began to shake.

A bead of sweat trickled from the back of my neck and dropped onto her skin, right above her heart.  I watched it travel over her flesh and down the side of her body, leaving a wet trail behind it as her chest rose and fell.

I couldn’t hold myself up any longer and didn’t want to crush her, so I rolled to the side and collapsed against the mattress with Lia next to me.  I kept my arms around her and held her to my chest as I continued to gasp for air.  Lia’s fingers wrapped around my upper arm, but I didn’t look at her.

I felt shredded inside of myself—like someone had literally gone into my guts with a set of knives and rotated them around for a while—and I didn’t understand why.  It was nauseating and suffocating.  I didn’t know what to do to make it stop.

“Wow,” Lia sighed.  “That was like the fight and the make-up sex all rolled into one.”

I couldn’t find the humor at the moment and pushed away from her without speaking. I jumped out of the bed and crossed the room.

“What’s wrong?” Lia called out.

I glanced over my shoulder to see her sitting in the center of the bed with the sheet pulled up to her chest, and I wondered why chicks did that.  I’d just been inside of her, and now she was shielding her tits.  What sense did that make?

“I just need a drink of water,” I said as I opened the bedroom door.  “You want anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”  She looked like she was about to say something else, but I left before she had the chance.

I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

Out in the kitchen, I poured myself some water from one of those filtration pitchers.  I’d never used one before, but Lia had it with her stuff. The water felt cold on the back of my throat as I drank it down and then quickly poured another one.  As I put the glass down, I glanced toward the balcony doors.

There was someone out there.

Instinct took over.  I dropped to the ground and rolled backwards to put the kitchen island between me and the glass door.  I was completely naked, and the closest gun was in the closet by the door.  I could make it, but if whoever was out there was going to shoot, I wouldn’t have much cover.

I decided to make a run for it, crashed into the closet, and knocked over a little decorative table next to the front door in the process.  Fighting hard against the panic growing inside of me, I ripped open the closet door and grabbed my Beretta.  I hadn’t heard any shots yet, but I still dived back behind the couch as quickly as I could.

I checked the magazine, clicked it into place, and wrapped my hand around the grip.  I positioned myself at the edge of the couch and was about to turn and start firing when I heard movement inside.

“Evan?”

“Get back in the bedroom!” I screamed at Lia as she appeared in the doorway.

“Evan!  What’s happening?”

I moved back around the couch where I had better cover as well as a better view of the balcony.  It was also a little farther from Lia, and I would be able to draw fire away from her.  I came around the far side and raised my gun again.  From there, I could see the figure on the other side of the glass—a small, thin person with white, sand-covered clothes.

It was the kid.

He just stood there—tears coming out of his eyes—and looked at me.

My hands started shaking.  I couldn’t hold the gun straight any longer, but I also wasn’t so sure I was actually pointing it at anyone who was there.

“Not fucking real,” I whispered.

“Evan?”

“Look out at the balcony,” I told her.

Her head turned briefly toward the glass before looking back to me.  There was no shock or fear in her eyes, which there certainly would have been if she had seen what I had.

“There’s no one there, is there?”

“No.”  Lia looked again, this time tilting her head to the side for a better angle, but her answer was the same.  “There’s no one there.”

I squeezed my eyes shut before I looked again.

There was nothing there.

“Fuck.”  I dropped down on my ass and leaned against the side of the couch with my elbows up on my knees and the Beretta dangling there with no purpose.

Lia was beside me a moment later.

“Are you all right?”  She reached to touch my arm, but I shoved her hand away.

“I’m fine,” I snapped.

“Who was out there?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“No one.”  I rubbed my forehead with the back of my hand and laughed at myself.  “We live on the fifteenth floor, for Christ’s sake—how would anyone get there?”

“I understand that,” Lia replied quietly.  “Who did you think you saw?”

I looked over to her, crouched on the floor a couple feet away from me like she was trying to coax some wild, wounded animal out of a cave.  To top it off, she was as naked as I was.  I shook my head at the ridiculousness of it all and pushed against the carpet to stand myself up.

“Come on,” I said as I reached my hand out for Lia’s, “let’s go back to bed.”

She took my hand and followed me back into the bedroom and under the sheets.  She was tentative to touch me at first, given how I had reacted in the other room, but I wrapped my arms around her waist and she wrapped hers around my head.

We both relaxed with a long sigh.

“Are you going to tell me what you saw?” she asked.

“Just a kid,” I replied with a shrug.

“You were going to shoot a kid?”

“I shot him before.”  I tilted my head up to see her better.  “He was wrapped in explosives and headed for our base.  I took him out from two kilometers away six years ago, and he shows up on my fucking balcony now.  What’s up with that shit?”

“I don’t know,” Lia replied.  “Have you ever talked to your psychologist about him?”

“No.  Didn’t see any point.”

“Maybe he can help you figure out what the point is,” she suggested.

I looked at her for a long moment as I tried to come up with a way I could even begin to convey everything that had happened over there.  I couldn’t possibly talk to Mark about every little detail, and I didn’t know how to put it into words that would make any sense.  Besides, I knew exactly what Mark Duncan would say—seeing this kid was somehow important.

The problem was that there were probably a thousand other important bits I wasn’t seeing.

“No,” I finally said.  I felt Lia tense at my words.

“You can’t just ignore it,” she said.  “Evan—you were about to shoot up the balcony door.”

“I didn’t.”

“But you would have!”

“Maybe not,” I said with a shrug.  I tucked my head against her body, hoping she was going to get the hint and drop it all.  I wasn’t used to having someone else around me so much, let alone have to justify myself and my actions.  It was uncomfortable at the very least.

“You can’t keep going like this,” Lia said.  Her hand ran over the back of my head slowly, and I relaxed a little.  “It’s scaring me.”

I opened my eyes and looked back up at her.  All the stress and worry were plain on her face, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do to change that.  I wasn’t sure that I could.

“I scare me sometimes,” I admitted.  I cracked a bit of a smile, but it wasn’t returned.  My tongue darted out over my lips.  “I don’t know how to make it stop.  I don’t even know when it’s going to happen.  It didn’t happen for years, and it just started again.”

“When did it start up again?”  Her fingers moved to my shoulder and over to my chest.   With the palm of her hand, she stroked down to my abs and back up again.

The feel of her touch was distracting, calming, and disarming.

“Not too long after I met you,” I replied.  “Well, some of it, anyway—the dreams, not being able to sleep—that started then.  Seeing shit that isn’t there is more recent.”

In the low light coming from the window, I could see the glistening in Lia’s eyes, and I hated it.  I hated that I was the one making her feel that way and that there was nothing I could do to change it.  I hated being this way and couldn’t even begin to understand how it happened.