I burst in through the door, looking for Ray. She was the one who opened it, though, surprised at finding me there. Through the muddled haze of alcohol, it slowly registered to me what she was wearing - practically nothing.

My blood boiled, I was seething from head to toe.

"Where's he?" I spat.

"He's not home yet. What's wrong, Jackson?" she asked, confused and worried, at the same time.

My eyes burned through the scanty clothes she was wearing. She looked away, embarrassed, adjusting her flimsy night robe, and tying it around herself tighter. It did little to help.

"Has he called?"

"No. I think he forgot. It's our anniversary," she said, shrugging.

This was too much. Too much. I lost my mind. Fury engulfed me as I rammed my fist into the wall before she could even move to react.

"Jax!" She pulled me away. There was some blood on the wall now. She cradled my hand in both of hers.

"It's driving me insane," I breathed, seething. "You're here, waiting for him. And he has been fucking some random bitch."
She blanched.  "On your fucking anniversary." She turned away from me.

"Shellie," I said, grabbing her chin, and forcing her to look into my eyes. "I can't bear this. You. How can he do this to you? You - " I stared at her, up and down, and as I stared, the rage vanished, I lost my train of thought. She took my breath away, as always.

I grabbed her, kissing her hard.

For a brief moment she kissed me back, as though she just could not help herself, and the next she pushed me away, as though stung. I pulled her closer again, trapping her between the wall and my hard body. "Shellie. You do not deserve this."

She snapped her head up, staring at me, coldly. "You have no fucking right - you... You are the reason - this is what you condemned me to."

I winced. It was true. "Please. I can't bear it."

"You have no right to interfere. This is none of your business, anymore," She said, detached.

I grabbed her face, again, hard, making her look into my burning eyes. "You are always my business," I told her, angry. The rage was back, slowly boiling up to the surface.

"Leave, Jackson. Let me wait for your little brother to come back to me after he's done with his women."

I gripped her hair, pulling hard. "Shellie, please," I warned.

"I'll wait for him to come and fuck me, smelling of alcohol and whores -"

I pushed her hard against the wall, leaning against her length, grabbing both her hands above her head. She was my prisoner.
"Don't. Say. Another. Word," I warned again.

She laughed, without humour. You still can't stand the thought of your baby brother touching me, can you?"

"Shell!" I yelled. "ENOUGH!" Everything was a rage muddled mess, once more.

"Isn't that why you left me? Because he wanted a toy to play with? - You gave me up! Like I was a toy!"

I launched myself at her, attacking her lips with a ferocity I hadn't thought possible. I took, and I bit and I consumed.

"You. Are. Mine," I growled against her bruised lips. She pushed against my chest, trying to resist. But my hands were already at the belt of her robe, tearing it away. She bit me hard, drawing blood.

She was almost naked underneath. The tiny scraps of lace left little to the imagination. I watched as her nipples hardened under the lace.

"Mine," I rasped, unclasping it, even as she struggled and cried.

"Jackson. Let me go," She thrashed around, half-heartedly.

I tugged hard at her nipples. This was supposed to be a punishment. The moment my fingers touched her bare skin, she slackened, giving up. A faint whimper escaped her mouth as I tugged again. Instead, she let me bend down and suckle on the left one. It was as sensitive as I remembered. She moaned. God. How I had missed her sweet moans in my ears.

"Jackson, don't," She cried, with almost a sob.

Ignoring her, my hands found the flimsy lace below, pushing it aside, and plunging my finger inside. Sweet lord, she was always so ready for me. "Please, stop," She half sobbed, half moaned.

"Mine," I growled again, moving my finger inside her and adding one more.

Soon, she was panting. I looked into her eyes, recognising the look - she was so close. Instinctively, my thumb found her sensitive button and flicked. She gasped.

I continued, merciless, "You're mine." 

She was close to screaming now, desperate, wound so tight.

"I hate you," She whispered, her voice wobbling. I flicked my thumb, fucking her with my fingers, faster. "Fuck me, now."

My hands were already undoing my zipper. I was so hard for her, I thought I would bust a vein. I lifted her up, right up against the wall - like so many times before - and she instinctively wrapped her legs around me. Tearing her panties apart, I sunk right into her, swearing at how tight she was. God help me, she was so amazing around me.

"You. Are. Mine," I kept repeating as I slammed into her, slow and hard, trying hard to stay in control. "Mine." All she replied with were incoherent words and screams, each time I filled her up.

"Please," She begged. "Faster." She looked into my eyes, and my control snapped. Attacking her mouth again, I picked up the pace, fucking her, hard and fast. I couldn't help myself. She was so fucking wet, so fucking tight, so fucking mine.

Soon, she was shouting my name, and she came undone, collapsing against my shoulder. Moments later, I burst into her, swearing harder than ever. We both literally collapsed to the floor, as my knees gave away. I drew her closer, burying her in my arms. She sobbed against my chest, exhausted.

"I hate you - I hate you - hate you - "

"I love you, Shellie. You'll always be mine."