Please note, this chapter is NC-17. If you are not yet 18, or you don't like that kind of stuff, hit the back button now!
NO!
The denial sears through his head as he stares at her in mute horror. All the relief and delight he'd been feeling just moments ago splinter as he looks into her eyes and sees nothing of his wife in their golden depths.
"You..." he gags on the words, which refuse to spill from his throat.
"Yes, John." Her smile is full of bitter amusement. "Me. *Not* Marlena." She pauses and sniggers cruelly. "Oh, you mean you fell for it *again*? Gosh John, what ever happened to knowing your wife? To stopping at *nothing* to bring her back?" Her words are laced with malice, her eyes narrowed and cold. "You're a *fool*. Face it, you lose again, John."
"NO!" he roars, his face white with rage. Inside him, his emotions are swirling into a maelstrom. It can't be... he can't...
A voice hisses insidiously inside his skull. Taunts him. You've betrayed her again John. You've lost her... for good this time.
"*NOOO!*" He stumbles across the room, catching sight of himself in the mirror. He looks like hell, his face obscured by hair, but the torment of his soul lays bare in wounded blue eyes.
His vision is ensnared by her as she walks up behind him, naked and defiant.
"John." She smiles cunningly. She can see his pain, the never-ending fight he wages with the darker forces that inhabit him. "Give *in* to it baby," she entreats him, drawing her fingers lightly down his back. "You know you want to. It's there, all that *anger* and rage." She licks her upper lip in unconscious anticipation. She almost has him within her grasp at last. He's almost *hers* and she's not about to let him go. She wants to own him, body and soul. She wants what Marlena had before she destroys it completely. "Give in John. You know deep down that you want to-"
"*NO!*" He clutches her wrist and sways around to face her. His face is purple with rage and his head buzzes with the unremitting howl of sound and pain. It's growing until he can barely think, barely hang on to who he is.
Don't fight it John. He's not even sure if that's her or if it's the voice in his head now. He's losing the battle and her glittering eyes only hasten the slide into the fog.
"Won't..." he growls. "Can't let you... do this."
"You don't have any *choice*, John." Her laughter is derisive. "It's happening. You've lost and *he's* won."
"*He...*" Who's *he*? The rush of sound deafens him, blinds all his senses and he stumbles against her.
"Woah there," she says softly. And then he can hear the husky laughter in her voices as she moves his hand to her breast and strokes it across her nipple. "Why don't you just give it up and enjoy it John. You *know* it's what you want..."
Fury detonates within him and he lurches around, blindly seeking something to hit. Something to assuage his pain. In a jerky, violent movement he sweeps up the chair that sits at the desk behind him he hurls it at the mirror. It's accompanied by a bellow of unutterable anguish as the glass shatters into smithereens.
"*NOOOOO!*" His anguish continues as he yanks a chest of drawers off it's legs and onto it's side.
Grace steps back and watches in satisfaction as he wreaks a trail of destruction around the room. Lamps, the television, the telephone; all suffer at his hands as he takes his agony out in the only way left to him.
And when, at last, his anger is spent, he sinks to the ground beside the bed, his head cradled in his hands.
And he stops fighting. Stops fighting the noise and the pain. Stops fighting the guilt.
Marlena is lost. You have nothing left to fight for.
And then he sinks into the darkness.
Grace watches him, an expectant and elated smirk plastered across her face. And yet, there is a hint of nervousness as she lifts her index finger to her lips and bites on the nail.
It had all been so easy once she had come to and found John carrying her to the bed. He had practically done all the work for her. He was so desperate for his precious Marlena to make her longed-for appearance that he had fallen for her act; hook, line and sinker. Not that it had been hard, simply lie back and let him do all the work. She'd just played the good little sexually inhibited Stepford Wife and he had eaten it up. Almost like he'd wanted to, like he'd gotten tired of the game. Almost like he'd wanted a reason to give into her....
And she'd basked in every single second of it. The way he had looked at her, the way he'd touched her... And somewhere deep down she is sure he'd known the truth. That he was making love to her. Grace. Like she always said he would.
Quietly, she crawls onto the bed and eases herself down onto the crumpled sheets so that her head is level with his.
"Given up yet?" she whispers in his ear.
Her heart pounds suddenly as he looks up at her, his eyes black and unfathomable.
"What do *you* think?" There is the hint of a sneer lingering around his mouth and then he launches himself up and onto the bed, pinning her on her back. His hands trap her arms against the hard mattress and his knees flank hers. She's not yet trapped, but she knows with certainty, the moment she tries to move, he will have her helpless.
She searches his face and finds John's cerulean eyes staring back at her. But in their depths, there is no John. A stranger is staring back at her. A stranger that something within her recognizes. A stranger she wants. More than anything.
"So, what happens now?" she asks, her voice strained, her body shivering with anticipation. He says nothing and she wets her lips unconsciously.
And unexpectedly, she is on her feet and he slams her against the wall, his forearm across her throat.
"Now...," his voice is deep and gravelly, "now we play the game *my* way."
"Oh?" She lifts an eyebrow, even as her pulse rockets. Her breath is coming in short, rapid beats and she raises trembling fingers to his chest. "Is that right?"
"*Damn* right." With a growl, he drops his lips to hers and immediately snares her lower lip between his teeth. Grace gasps as he bites her and a moment later, she tastes the heavy, metallic tang of blood spill onto her tongue.
And then it is swept away by the sensation of his tongue in her mouth and his hands on her breasts.
She hungrily returns his searing kisses, her arms locking around his neck as she tries to pull him towards her. He fights her, grabbing her arms and crashing them back against the wall. His fingers are brutally tight around her upper arms as he jams his knee in between her legs and continues to kiss her.
She moans wantonly and drops her head back as he makes his way down her neck, alternately biting and sucking at her flesh as though it is his salvation. She bucks against his leg and gasps as he grinds his thigh against her.
His grip on her is excruciating as he lowers his mouth to her breasts. He is equally as harsh with her nipples and all she can do is to whimper as his teeth continue their sweet torture.
For as much as his ministrations sting, they are also turning her on beyond anything she thought possible. She is painfully close to orgasm, just from the feeling of his mouth on her breasts.
With unconscious desperation, she repositions herself, sliding her thigh up his and hooking her calf below his firm and delectable ass. He growls into the softness of her breast and then raises his eyes to hers. Grace shivers at the blackness she perceives beneath the eternal blue. She could almost swear there was no soul there... if she didn't know better.
"Who are you?" she demands fiercely.
"John." He releases her arm and slides his hand under her thigh. He raises an eyebrow and smirks at her. "I'm *John Black*."
"Oh..." She shivers at his words. Her eyes widen and she gasps as he lifts her and slams her against the wall again. In a rough movement, he thrusts and it is accompanied by a guttural snarl as her wet warmth claims him.
Grace cries out her pleasure and is quick to move her other leg to embrace his hips as he continues to drive into her. It is fast and brutal and there is no tenderness. It is just a frenzy of lust and flesh as a sheen of sweat builds up over their bodies and their cries crescendo.
It is pure and instinctive; raw animal sex as they climax together, Grace wrapped around his body, every muscle tensed with the ecstasy of release.
When they are done, he carries her over to the bed and deposits her on the crumpled sheets. He starts to walk away, but she touches his hand, stopping him. He turns to look at her and she is chilled by the iciness of his stare. And suddenly she feels an ache that almost reduces her to tears.
John is gone.
Pull it together Grace. This is what you wanted. You wanted *this* John. The John that doesn't play by the rules. The John that Stefano told you about.
"What?" he asks dispassionately.
"What do you remember?" Her voice is firm and steady as she holds his gaze. This is the most important moment. When they establish their strength in relation to one another. When he learns that she is not to be toyed with.
"Remember?" He raises one eyebrow. "Enough."
Grace says nothing, but a tiny smile shifts her lips. This could be interesting.
"Oh?" She leans back against the pillow and watches him from under her lashes. "And how much is enough?"
He smirks at her. He remembers plenty. He's been struggling out of the darkness for months now. He's been fighting the shackles of Dimera's machinations and the strict moral fiber of 'John Black'. And now, finally, with her help, he has his freedom.
"Enough to know," he eyes her with a voracious leer, "that you're quite a woman."
"Is that right?" She tries, unsuccessfully, to hide her own smile.
He says nothing for a moment, just gives her a long and frankly appraising stare. "What's your story?" He demands eventually. "Really. What's your agenda?"
"Freedom." She purses her lips. "And to win."
"Win what?" He raises an eyebrow.
She pauses for a long moment, taking the opportunity to rake his beautiful body with her gaze. "*Everything*," she tells him succinctly.
He looks at her for a moment and then his mouth curls into an amused smile and a laugh erupts from his throat. There's no feeling behind the laughter though. No soul.
Grace shivers, a splinter of misgiving worming its way into her emotions. She takes a deep breath and shakes the unwelcome feeling off. This is what she wanted. She's destroyed John and now she has *this* John, as brutal and as formidable as she is. *This* John won't let petty emotions get in the way. He won't let the shackles of honesty and righteousness bind him.
Together, they will take on the world. And take everything they want from it.