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It's A Dangerous Game

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You lay there, just as Hyde told you to, staring at the glaringly red numbers on the bedside clock, watching even as the minutes turn into an hour and then two, even as your body begins to ache and your skin starts to feel tacky, and even as Hyde doesn't return. Your stomach grumbles, loudly, and you remember just how long it's been since you've eaten anything. With a sigh, you sit up and, hoping that Hyde won't get too angry with you for getting up, walk into the kitchen. You don't bother to grab any clothes to cover yourself up, deciding to take a shower after you eat because you're starting to feel uncomfortably sticky. You open one of the cabinets at random, hoping to find something that's both quick and easy for you to eat, and find an already opened box of Pop-tarts.

Without even stopping to see what flavor they are, you quickly grab two of the packages from the box and tear into one of them. It doesn't take you long to finish that package and then the second one as well. You toss the now empty wrappers into a trashcan and then slowly make your way to the bathroom. You stand in front of the shower and stare at it for a moment, trying to figure out how it works before turning a knob at random. Water comes out of the shower-head and you don't even check the temperature before getting in.

You stand under the water that is perhaps just a bit too hot and scrub at yourself with your hands to try and clean away the stickiness Hyde left you with. You grab a bar of soap and lather your hands before returning to your efforts, which are now more effective than they were with just plain water. After judging yourself to have done enough, you step back under the spray of the water and close your eyes. You're not entirely sure how long you've been standing there when there's suddenly a pair of hands on your waist.

"You're late, Mister Hyde," you say, and turn around to look at him. To your surprise and slight amusement, he's still fully dressed.

"Henry's boss didn't want to let me go," Hyde says, not even bothering to unbutton the shirt and instead yanking it until the buttons fly off and then discarding the shirt on the floor before continuing, "But Hyde managed to convince him in the end."

You can guess how Hyde managed to convince him without even asking, and truth be told, you're not entirely sure you even want to know specifics. It's probably better that you don't, you decide. You turn back around and get back under the water as Hyde finishes undressing. His hands return to your hips, and then trail upwards and around until he's cupping your breasts. He pinches your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

You hiss in a breath, and then he relents, his touch turning surprisingly soft after. His fingers trace circles around and over your nipples, until they're stiff peaks and heat pools low inside you. One of his hands moves lower, down your stomach, and then suddenly both of his hands fly to your shoulders, gripping tight. Hyde turns you around to face him, and unwilling to wonder anymore, you ask him, "Is Henry really gone?"

"Yes," Hyde replies, simply and bluntly, looking down at you as he continues, "I can feel him inside, wanting to get out, but I'm stronger than he is. He won't get out."

"Oh," you say. Hyde raises his eyebrows and reaches out to grab you by the hair as he asks, "Why? Would you rather have him instead of me?"

"No, Mister Hyde," you say, even though admitting it makes you feel sick.

"Good," Hyde says, and then he's kissing you, pressing you back until you hit the shower wall. You can feel his cock hardening against your stomach, so you reach down and wrap your hand around him and begin to stroke. He groans, low in his throat, his head falling back as his hips thrust forward. You stroke him under his cock is completely hard, your eyes never leaving his face. The pleasure on his face pleases you, the darkness of his stormy eyes and the contortions of his face.

His eyes meet yours as his hands fall to rest on your waist before his grip tightens and he lifts you up. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist, and then guide his cock to your sex with the hand you still have on him. You align the head of his cock with your opening of your sex and then Hyde thrusts himself inside of you. Your back presses hard against the wall of the shower, but excluding that, Hyde is surprisingly gentle with you. You wonder if this is his way of apologizing for how he'd treated you the last time he fucked you, but then decide that the reason for this doesn't even matter.

Hyde kisses you, hard and deep, and bites down on your bottom lip. It hurts but at the same time it's a relief because it's a reminder that he's him, that he's Hyde, and that you love him, against all your better instincts. You open your mouth against his and let your tongue tangle with his while he fucks you, his cock plunging into you with every thrust of his hips. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his slightly damp but still completely wild hair as heat and desire grow deep within you. Hyde moves one hand from your hips to brace himself against the wall while with the other remains there, his fingers digging in tight to your already sore skin.

You moan in a mix of pain and pleasure, and loudly enough that you wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors could hear you if not for Hyde's lips against yours. Hyde increases the pace of his thrusts, his hips and his cock damn near slamming into you, and before long you're coming apart around him as your orgasm crashes through you. Your grip tightens on his hair as you gasp against his mouth, and before long Hyde too has reached his peak, spilling inside you with a low groan.

After, he steps back and lets you down, his cock slipping from you as you stand on unsteady feet. Hyde smiles down at you and you gaze up at him and then he's shoving you out of the shower while telling you, "There are boxes in the living room. Pack whatever things of his you want to keep. I'm going to finish showering and then I'll join you."

You nod and walk out of the bathroom and into the bedroom as Hyde begins showering. You pick up your discarded high heels from the floor of the bedroom and then walk into the living room. Once in there, you toss them into one of the several boxes you can see scattered throughout the room. You wonder just why Hyde brought so many of them here, but then you realize that he likely either doesn't intend to stay in this apartment, or can't due to whatever he did to Henry's boss. You find your underwear, bra, and the white shirt you'd worn the previous night and redress yourself in them before walking to pick up your purse and the dress you'd worn for your date with Henry, the date that feels like a lifetime ago now. You toss them in the box with your shoes and then look around the living room.

You wonder briefly if Hyde would agree to keep the chairs, but then your eyes fall upon the bookshelves and the books displayed on them. After dragging an empty box over to one of them, you begin to empty it of the books it holds while hoping to whoever's listening that Hyde won't make you carry the box. It seems silly, you think, to care this much about the books, but it's one part of Henry, poor Henry, that you can save, at least.

You've almost filled the box with books when you hear the shower shut off. Quickly, remembering Henry's journal, you find it where Hyde had left it and toss it into the box as well before returning to the bookshelf. Before long, you can hear the sounds of Hyde padding around in the living room.

"Mister Hyde?" You ask after a moment, turning away from the bookshelf and looking at him, and find him, fully dressed in his familiar clothing and that ridiculously over-sized coat, appraising one of the chairs thoughtfully.

"Yes?" Hyde replies, looking in your direction and raising his eyebrows at you.

"What happens now?" You ask quietly as you turn away from him and back to the bookshelf.

Hyde chuckles and steps closer to you, until you can feel him behind you as he replies, "We'll live in your house for now, but after that? Well, we'll just have to see where things take us."

"Us?" You ask, scarcely able to believe your ears.

"Yes, us. Just me and you," he says, kissing a mark onto your neck before continuing, "Til death do us part."