Breaking by Claire Kent

One
     
    Ander sat on the edge of the bed
for more than a minute, watching Lori sleep.
    He’d just
gotten back in town, and she wasn’t expecting him for another week. He’d left
the archeological dig on Santorini early.
    He could
usually lose himself in work. At times, he stayed so long at the
university—completely wrapped up in reading, research, or writing—that Lori had
to come find him and drag him home. He’d been looking forward to this trip for
a long time, since it was grant-funded research that was necessary to write his
dissertation.
    But work hadn’t
been enough this time. Every moment he’d spent of the last two days had been
brutal, painful, torture. So finally he’d just given up and flown back to
Seattle.
    Back to Lori.
    It was after
one in the morning, and she was sound asleep.
    She didn’t like
to sleep in pitch darkness, so a sliver of light from the bathroom illuminated
the bedroom enough for him to see.
    Her dark hair
spread out messily on the pillow around her face. Her eyelashes were dark
too—thick against her smooth skin. Her lips were slightly parted, the sensual
curve matching the line of her neck as her head turned to the side.
    She must have
gotten warm because the covers were pushed down low. A strip of bare skin was
visible between her white tank top and her lavender cotton pajama pants.
    His eyes rested
on the soft swell her breasts, clearly visible through the thin fabric. He
could see the outline of her nipples. He wanted to touch them.
    He wanted her.
In so many ways.
    He needed her.
Tonight more than ever.
    He loved her.
But didn’t always know how.
    For so many
years, he’d turned himself into nothing but a body, hiding his real self away
from the world. He’d put on an attractive persona like a mask. He’d flattered
and enticed and seduced until women were putty in his hands. Then he’d touched
and kissed and fucked them until they felt more pleasure than they’d known was
possible.
    No one else had
made their bodies feel as good as he had.
    He’d given them
what they wanted because he could never get what he wanted.
    Lori was sound
asleep, completely unconscious of him. Completely vulnerable. He could do
anything he wanted to her.
    He would never
hurt her, and he would decimate anyone who tried. But he needed something
tonight that he couldn’t wrap his mind around yet.
    He’d always
been damaged, and love could only do so much.
    He’d been
damaged again two days ago, and he was barely holding himself together.
    Right now, he
was on the verge of breaking completely, and he couldn’t let that happen.
    So he’d come
home. Come to their bedroom, come to their bed, to find whatever power and
solace he could in Lori.
    He reached out
to gently brush his fingers over her warm cheek. Then her forehead, her lips,
her jaw line. He pushed a few strands of hair back from her face.
    Then he noticed
the bare skin between her tank top and pajama pants. Couldn’t resist it. Reached
out to caress her smooth belly. Felt it rise and fall with her steady
breathing.
    His hand never
stopped moving and somehow slid up to the full curve of her breasts. He fondled
one delicately until the nipple peaked, and Lori released a low groan in her
sleep.
    When he
realized what he was doing, he pulled his hand away immediately.
    One strap of
her tank top had slipped down over her shoulder, and he had an overwhelming
urge to rip the strap apart at the seam.
    He wanted her
to feel him, to know him, to be completely surrounded by his force, his power,
his love.
    He wanted to
not be broken anymore.
    Lori stirred and
finally opened her eyes.
    Blinking a few
times, she said hoarsely, “Hey, sweetie. What are you doing there?”
    Her first
response must have been instinctive because then the situation processed in her
mind. She sat up straight in bed and hurled herself at him in a hug. “Ander!
What are you doing here?”
    “I came back
early,” he murmured, wrapping both arms around her.
    He’d