Instead, he took off his belt and beat me until my back was bleeding as much as my knees. Only then, he had dropped the belt and raped me right there, oblivious of my pain and of how much I was bleeding. All he could think of was his own satisfaction… his own pleasure. I was just a means to an end, the doll he used to satisfy his darkest needs.
I had ended up at the hospital, with deep cuts on my legs, arms, and hands, and once more, he had played the role of the perfect husband, having to deal with a clumsy wife, a danger to herself, as he described me to the worried doctor.
No one doubted him, and I was too convinced of my own fault to say or do anything else. Even my mother believed him, despite my failed attempts to tell her the truth. She simply refused to hear me.
One night with Jayden had been enough to open my eyes and show me that there was nothing wrong with me, other than my lack of judgment when I decided to marry a damn sadist.
Determined to enjoy every second of my time with Jayden, I finished cleaning as fast as possible before I hit the shower. I wanted to be ready for him. Anticipation and desire coursed through my veins, and I was more excited than ever in my life.
I was just finishing braiding my tameless hair when I saw the shine in my eyes and forced myself to stop and think.
With shaky hands, I put down the comb and stared at myself in the mirror. I was falling for him, for a man I barely knew.
Hadn't I learned anything? How could I trust another man so easily? I was just a fling for Jayden, a convenient lover, not the love of his life, that was for sure. Hell, he had even used me in his little war against his mother, and I knew it.
If I kept my foolish heart out of the equation, everything would be alright. I would have nothing to lose and a lot to gain, and when the time came, I would walk away from him with my heart in one piece.
Later that night, when he got home, I was still excited, still aroused, but my feelings were under tight control. I could do this.
And I was able to control them, for the few moments, it took him to cross the room and pull me into his arms. One single touch and I was melting all over him.
“Missed me?” he asked, pressing his lips against mine.
“Were you away?” I asked back, but I was sure the hunger in my eyes was the only answer he needed.
He chuckled and cradled my face kissing me as if there was no tomorrow, his hunger a perfect match to mine. In a matter of minutes, we were both naked, lying on the carpet, right there in the middle of the room, lost in each other’s arms, with one goal in mind – to give way to the fiery passion burning between us.
There was no time for foreplay… hell, there wasn’t even time for us to take our clothes off. There was barely time for him to pull a condom out of his pocket and slide it over his cock, aided by my eager hands before he thrust himself deep inside me.
I was more than wet and ready for him. My walls welcomed him inside me, stretching and clenching around his thick cock, while he plunged himself in and out of me.
To say we burst up in flames was an understatement. But it was worth every second of it.
A few minutes later, we were lying on the living room floor, trying to catch our breaths, with our wrinkled clothes still on.
“Will this be the welcome I’ll receive from now on?” he asked, his breathing still labored.
I chuckled through ragged gasps. “Would you like that?” I asked, tilting my head to look at him.
“What’s not to like?” he asked, with laughter in his tone.
“Right… though we really should try to get to the bed first… the floor is too hard…” I grumbled, but I didn’t mean a word I said.
It was perfect, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.
“Well, the bed is a bit far… perhaps you should wait for me there… can you picture it?” he drew a big square in the air. “You lying in my bed, with nothing on, waiting for me, ready to please me…”
I couldn’t stop myself and burst into loud laughter. “You’re watching way too many porn movies,” I managed to say as he laughed with me.
“Porn movies? How dare you suggest that? I just have a very prolific imagination,” he teased me, lying on his side and leaning his head on his hand so he could look at me. “No scars from the meeting with my dear mother?” he asked his tone now a bit darker.
“No, of course not. Why would there be any scars at all?”
“Madeleine Wells is not an easy person. The only person that puts up with her shit is Matty.”
“She was curious. Can you blame her?” I asked, moving up so I could look at him and twisting my neck in the process.
He shrugged. “No… I guess I can’t.”
