“That’s bullshit. I’ve gotten you off before. This was just a fluke. I was only fast because I’ve been so long without getting off inside you. Excitement won out this time, but next time, I’ll be making sure you get what you need,” he justifies. His attempt to do so falls a little flat for me and I internally roll my eyes while trying to fight off the attempt to physically do so as well.
“Next time? You—are you done for the night?”
“Not all of us have raging pregnancy hormones, A!” he raises his voice defensively.
I’m about to call him out for yelling at me, except something holds me back. I’m not usually one to bite my tongue. Usually I get myself in a lot of trouble by running my mouth. I’m trying really hard to be better though and the look he’s giving me, has me biting back my natural response to fuck all the way off.
I’m not about to mention that he’s quite literally never made me come one singular time because I can only imagine his reaction to that. It seems this is a hot point for him or something and I wonder if he’s been called out before. He’s the kind of guy who’d deny it even if it were true since his ego is clearly fragile.
“All right…” I drag out the word, trying to come up with a better response than my initial one, and it’s like my mind has shut down, completely unwilling to argue over something so stupid. “I guess I’ll just go have a shower and clean up, then we can do takeout and a movie or something?”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “Yeah, that sounds really good baby,” he says, smiling his biggest smile, looking a little too forced.
I do my best to ignore the nagging thought in the back of my mind telling me to get the hell out of there as fast as I can.You can’t rely on old habits, I tell myself.Running away isn’t the answer. This isn’t the time to think about yourself. You have to think about your daughter as well. The reminder does its job and I head back into the bathroom and start the shower.
The water is hot, but not scalding like I prefer it. The doctor said not to do that during pregnancy so I’ve given it up for the time being, along with getting my hair and nails done, and drinking coffee. It’s not like I’m so bougie that I can’t live without those things, they were just a nice luxury I afforded myself once I started working for my own money. Just because I lived in the country didn’t mean I shouldn’t feel good about myself.
I will say, the prenatal vitamins are working wonders on my hair and nails though. My nails are longer and healthier than they’ve been, probably ever. My hair is thick and glossy. It’s awesome and I feel pretty great about myself despite the swollen ankles and beach ball tummy. I didn’t miss the look on B’s face when he saw my stretch marks and I won’t lie, that hurt a little, but I’m proud of what my body is doing so he can keep his mouth shut on the matter.
After shampooing my hair, I apply my conditioner and leave it to sit for a few minutes, taking the opportunity to glide my hands over my sensitive nipples. I tease them, loving the way they harden in pleasure.
I try to imagine Benji licking and kissing his way down my body, but the image in my head is a stranger. I can’t picture B’s face at all or the sensation goes away, and I will not be cunt blocked again tonight, so I just allow the vision of this sexy man to work me over with his lips and tongue in my mind.
He sucks my pebbled nipple into his mouth, while caressing the other one with a feather light touch with his calloused fingers that shoots a satisfying prickle of awareness straight to my throbbing pussy. I hold back a moan as my hands trace the movements of what this imaginary sex god is doing to me in my mind. My hands trailing down my body, following his phantom movements.
When he finally gets to my core, I’m literally aching with need. His teasing of my clit has me desperate for his dick, which stands up tall, hitting his belly button, long, thick, and hard. When I feel him move lower, I’m overwhelmed with desire as he inserts his tongue inside of me along with one of his long fingers.
“Ohhh, fuck me,” I whisper, hoping the sounds of the water hitting the tub are enough to keep me from being heard.
My mind conjures up the image of him standing up and pushing me against the hard tiles of the shower wall, all while keeping his finger inside of me and then replacing it with his cock. I come hard and fast as he pushes himself in and out of me at a furious pace, rubbing his pubic bone against my clit with every thrust inside of me.
“Yes, that’s it. Yesss,” I whisper-shout, pumping my fingers inside of me, slower now, as the thought of my mystery stranger disappears before my eyes. The heel of my palm is now rubbing against my oversensitive clit so I pull my hand away and grab the soap to clean myself up. Then I rinse myself off and step out of the shower, slightly disappointed that I’ll have to walk back out to be with my real man who’s never once gotten me off like the random one conjured up by my imagination.
I’m going to hell. That’s for certain, because I’ve signed up for a life with this man and I know deep down in my heart that he’ll never satisfy me. Life isn’t all about sex though, so I can only hope that everything else is worth it in the long run.
Thirteen
A woman can’t change a man
Aria
February 2018
“I now pronounce you husband and wife; you may now kiss your bride.” The chaplain speaks the words I’ve internally been dreading. They go in one ear and out the other as I finally gain the courage to meet the eyes of the man I’m married to as he leans in to give me a kiss that honestly feels totally inappropriate in front of the small crowd of people gathered as witnesses to our matrimony. I haven’t even been able to make myself make eye contact with Tate or Demi for fear of them talking me out of this. Niko has looked sad all day.
“Now introducing Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Whims,” he says, and I have to hold back the urge to tell him that I’ll not be taking B’s surname. It’s bound to be a fight, I’m sure, but I decided that both Hadley and I would carry my last name the day I filled out her birth certificate. I’m still not sure if Benji even noticed or not. I don’t know if he’ll notice on our marriage certificate either.
I’ve been trying to do my best to tell myself that the unease I feel is just your average, everyday common case of nerves that anyone would get when marrying so young. Especially since it’s just a mere matter of days before I send my new husband off to war. I’m not allowed to know where he’s going and I won’t be allowed to talk to him regularly and I’m struggling with the horrible thought that it might be more of a blessing than a curse.
I know that makes me the worst kind of person, but I genuinely feel like people should be happy beyond measure when they marry. It is, after all, a ceremony to celebrate love and an unbreakable bond between partners, right? Things like this shouldn’t be done out of necessity or because someone is too proud to admit that they aren’t meant to spend a lifetime with someone else due to circumstance.
There’s a deep pain at the core of my heart, bleeding out because I’m not desperately in love with the man standing before me and I’ve just inexplicably tied myself to him forever.
Our beautiful daughter is three months old now and she’s the light of my life. She’s everything I live for and the only thing in my world that makes me truly smile.
I’ve taken the last several months since Benji came home from bootcamp to settle into our new home and try my very hardest to love him the way anyone deserves to be loved, and I do—love him that is—but nothing will ever compare to the undeniably deep rooted, unconditional love I felt the first moment I laid eyes on my little princess. She was my first true love in this world and always will be.
Hadley Rayne Morgan.
