I think about you when he spoons with me.
Shocking me with a tenderness I never expected. An intimacy I didn’t understand or welcome the first time he slid behind me and held me close after the cruelty he inflicted. Confusing me and making me think he somehow wanted to apologize. Although nothing he could ever say or do can take back what he did or make it all right or allow me to forgive him.
But of course he wasn’t and isn’t sorry. No, not an ounce of guilt or remorse flows through his thick, mean body. It didn’t take me long to figure out his true intent. He likes to grope me while I’m trapped. Holding me immobile while he talks in my ear. Whispering about you against my throat while he pinches my bruised nipples and jabs his short, dirty fingers inside of me.
Last night was the worst when he mocked your search for me. Gloating when he told me how you’ve gone off the deep end. Murdering hundreds of men across the country and around the world. Burning down entire compounds to find me. Chuckling at the thought of you being a fucking hero to the damn feds, as he describes you, for taking care of so many criminals for them, from the least petty to the most powerful. Despite all your efforts though, he’s outsmarted you he says. Valiant yet worthless in the hunt he raves. Boasting that his hiding place for me is too clever for you to find regardless of who or what you destroy.
The guilt of it all crushes me. I don’t want you to kill for me anymore. I don’t want violence or fires or death on my behalf. I just want to go home. Home to you and the bed you’ve shared with me in your beautiful house and the contentment we used to enjoy together.
I don’t know if it’s worse to know or not. Because right now hope is all I have left that you’ll find me. You’ll rescue me from this bastard. I couldn’t help sobbing when I realized, despite how much you want me, and I want you, you may never come.
He loved me crying like the filthy beast he is. Flipped me over and licked the tears off my face. His slimy tongue dragging over my wet skin. Up my cheeks and across my chin. I had to turn away to keep from gagging. Then he fucked me until I bled.
After he rolled away, I stared at that blood for a long time. On the swollen lips of my ravished vagina. My bruised thighs. My chafed stomach. Wondering why my injuries don’t upset him. Questioning how he can’t feel any shame or guilt or regret for ripping me open. Imagining what terrible things must have been done or said to him to make what he does to me okay to him. Or maybe nothing at all. Maybe he had the perfect childhood with loving parents and a nice home and jealousy did this to him.
I’m rambling, I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t make sense of this. Of him.
It may not bother him but I know my blood would bother you. Does bother you. Remember when you surprised me with the vacation to that little beach house in Barbados, and I had you all to myself for an entire three days? It was so wonderful. No one else. No constant interruptions. No real world. Even though I know you snuck out of bed at night and worked while I slept. But I didn’t mention your harmless deception or voice any complaints because I knew you had no choice. You kept up to keep me safe. Maybe not directly but if your enemies knew you weren’t on alert, if you were distracted, there would be problems.
After two days of almost endless love making, I was raw. I flinched when you pushed inside me, and when you jerked back, my arousal was tinged with red. Covering your proud, hard cock. I know it’s slightly perverted, but your penis really is beautiful. So smooth and silky, stretching thick and erect with that slight curve, always pointing directly to what it wants. Just like you. I guess the artist in me sees the natural, simple beauty. I’d love to find a way to capture the amazing hard yet pliable combination that your erection conveys. Although I’d never want anyone to see you naked. Just like you are so protective of me.
That night you were furious too. Angry at yourself despite how unwarranted your fury was. As if you’d hurt me. So adamant I was wrong when I tried to convince you I was fine. That we’d hurt me but spending almost forty-eight hours in bed with you was worth any discomfort. I swore I would be okay. I would heal. I would want you again by morning. My reassurances weren’t ever enough. You wouldn’t make love to me for almost six days.
But I got you, didn’t I? :) You never could resist me when I talked about our wedding. About me becoming your wife.
Red velvet or marble cake? You said whatever I want.
Hydrangeas or dahlias? You said for me to choose.
Keep my maiden name or take yours? You said I need to remember who the fuck I belong to.
You had me up against the wall before I could blink, with my legs wrapped around your waist and your lips on my ear, growling about needing to remember who the fuck owns me. Owns this pussy. Owns this everything.
Urgent fingers slid under the hem of my dress and stroked my silky panties. Already drenched with anticipation for you. You liked that. You liked that a lot. Dipping inside me with only the satin separating us while a ragged moan vibrated in your throat.
But I wanted more. I was crazy, desperate for more of you. Lifting my hips to grind against your palm. Hoping you’d slide another finger into me. That you’d massage and rub and caress the places I needed you to touch the most. That you’d tease me until I came all over your hand. Well aware I was acting like a naughty, bad girl for you. Thinking dirty words I could never be brave enough to speak. Imagining filthy desires I was too timid to describe with my voice. Although I didn’t say them aloud, I thought them. For you. For myself. I needed you. I wanted you. Like no one ever before.
You answered my silent request by ripping off my purple sheath without any resistance from me. When your gaze traveled over my body, and you whispered, “Fuck, rosy girl.” I knew that’s exactly what you were going to do. And I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t get you inside of me fast enough.
But first you unsnapped my lacy lavender bra and your mouth went straight to my chest. Sucking in my hard nipple. Quick to throb with the sweet pain of your teeth scraping over my pulsing skin. Your fist clutching my other breast so tight that only my areola peeked through the circle of your finger and thumb. Amazing me that my small pink bud had never been so tight and taut. Except from your touch. Only you make me that way. Mesmerizing me with your intensity as I watched you ravish me. Your tongue lapping over me with a thirst you couldn’t seem to quench. The madness overcoming you lighting a fire in me I’ve never experienced.
Despite your fervor, you were gentle. Walking us to the bed and laying me down slowly, our bodies never separating for even an inch. For even a second. Your slick skin skimming mine as you sank into me carefully. Building an inferno between us with your deliberate thrusts. Taking me so high I could barely breathe. Your right hand tangled in my hair. Your left palm cupped my face, the pads of your fingers pressing possessively into my head. Your mouth moved against my temple but no words were audible as you plunged inside me over and over. I love you most like this. When you’re too overcome to even speak. That I do this to you. I feel so wanted. So powerful. So beautiful. Which is funny since you’re the one with all the money and power and strength. But you loving me gives me everything I never had or thought I could ever have.
Making sure I got there first, you smiled when I cried out in pleasure. Before you came inside me with a pent up release we were both desperate for. I couldn’t watch you any longer despite how much I wanted to from the force of that orgasm overtaking me. But I grinned too behind closed eyes when your body stilled, strained and tense, while you pulsed inside of me. Emptying yourself and holding me tight for the baby you hope to put within me. Even after I’d told you repeatedly it’s too soon. You really don’t care. If I’m honest, I don’t either. I want everything with you.
Your damp forehead nodded against mine when I told you I couldn’t wait to officially be yours. No paper needed, you said, since I already was. And if I didn’t straighten up you’d wear my ass out proving it to me. I earned that swat on my butt when I told you I would have to think about it a little bit more before I made my final decision. I also loved you proving your obsession with me for the rest of the afternoon. Spending the day in bed with me instead of at your office. Exactly what I hoped when I instigated my game. Precisely what you enjoyed punishing me for.
I want to play with you more like that. I’ll be your good girl. Your bad girl. Your anything. Just please let me see you again.