His heart is a clenched fist and strains and whitens in his chest. His breaths hiss in the quiet bedroom as he forces them through gritted teeth, forces his lungs to rise and fall with the painful suck of air. He is suffocated by the smell of her, choked by the taste of her.
The memory of her touch raises hives on his skin. Her voice roars in his head and dizzies him and he shudders, unbalanced. He cannot see beyond her bright round face, her stomach, her breasts.
He will not allow this to happen.
This is his cage and this is his lock, his fingers burn as he turns the key. His knuckles are tender and shadowed with bruises.
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