Page 33 of Tormenting Me

“Then let’s never stop.” With the blade still at his throat, I lean into him and chase my orgasm. Wes lets me use his body to get myself off, the knife I was holding clatters to the cement floor. Our bodies are caked in blood, sweat drips down between my breasts, leaving streaks. My thighs shake as my pussy clenches around Wes’s cock. We come together. A roar echoes through the warehouse as Wes empties himself inside me.

After heading back up to the loft, showering, and throwing on some old clothes, Wes walks me through his step-by-step process of disposing of bodies. Wes is meticulous, making sure that I know every step and how all the equipment works. He never ceases to amaze me. He is so creative and I stare at him in awe, it’s no wonder he’s never been caught.

I can’t wait to spend forever with this man.

We take the ground-up remains of my father and toss them into the bay. It doesn’t take long for some sharks to appear, consuming him as their meal. “So long, Motherfucker.” I turn back to Wes. “What now?”

“Whatever you want, Ma Petite Mort. You’re free.”

Chapter twenty-two

Layne

Now, after moving in, Wes offered for me to quit working, telling me he makes enough to where I don’t need to work. It was an immediate “no” from me. Surprisingly, he didn’t fight me on it. I appreciate that Wes respects my need for independence and understands it. Despite his possessiveness, he recognizes the importance of allowing me the freedom to make my own choices and pursue my own goals.

However, even though Wes may be the perfect husband, I can’t help but feel that he doesn’t fully grasp the complexities of my past and the struggles I continue to face. His idea that killing my father will erase all my past traumas and depression is kind of misguided. Freedom from these burdens isn’t as simple as a magical “poof” or a quick fix. I am scared to let Wes see the darker parts of me. What if he gives up on me?

I find solace in putting on a brave face and dealing with my struggles silently. I don’t want to burden Wes with my emotional baggage, as he has already done so much for me. He has provided me with a safe and loving environment, and his offer for me to not work shows his desire to take care of me. But I know I need more than just his care and support.

Having a life separate from Wes is crucial for my well-being. It allows me to maintain a sense of self and to grow as an individual. I aim to contribute to the world outside of my relationship with Wes. even if it is just working at the indie music and bookstore. I’m grateful that Wes understands this and doesn’t push me to give up my job. It shows that he values my autonomy and respects my choices.

Two Weeks Later

Wes’s alarm goes off, and I peek my head up from his chest. The blurry numbers on his bedside table read five-fifteen. “Ugh.” I groan as I bury my face back in his chest. “Why do you have to get up so fucking early?” Wes stretches, then wraps his arms around me, pulling me tighter to him.

“Good morning to you too,” his raspy morning voice grumbles. He places a kiss on my head. “To fit in my workout before going to work, I have to do it now. Unless you’d like to help me out with some cardio?”

“Mmmm…Well, I guess I could. You know, since you so rudely woke me up at this ungodly hour,” I press kisses to his tattooed chest.

Wes lets out a low groan as I make my way up to his neck. His hands grip my waist and pull me on top of him. After having sex last night, we went straight to sleep, leaving Wes completely naked. I’m wearing his shirt, with no panties. The tip of his hard cock pushes into my entrance and he slips right in. His cum from last night and my arousal make it that easy.

“Oh fuck, Layne,” Wes reaches up and pulls his shirt off of me. “Your pussy’s still full of my cum.” Wes closes his eyes, moaning as I roll my hips.

“Yes,” I moan, picking up my pace, and rocking my hips into him. I meet his gaze and am immediately struck by his blown pupils. His eyes, like precious jade, hold a mystical allure that captivates me. I can get lost looking in them. His hand wraps around my throat, squeezing and I close my eyes, awaiting my nearing orgasm.

“Open your eyes.” He growls.

My eyes snap open, fixated on his. He maneuvers and flips me to my back. “You keep these beautiful eyes on me when I am inside you.” His words make me whimper, and his lips come down on mine. Wes lets go of my throat, grabs his pillow and shoves it underneath my hips to raise them. “We can’t let any cum leak out if you’re gonna be having our babies.” I told him we would just let it happen naturally. If I get pregnant, then that’s what happens, and he is now obsessed.

He re-adjusts himself so he is on his knees, and then thrusts back inside me. “Fuck, Layne. Your pussy is fucking perfect. How am I supposed to work all day, knowing your pussy is going to be without me?”

“Kiss me.” I whimper as the pressure builds, like a string taut and ready to break.

Wes leans in, claiming my mouth. His tongue dances with mine, fighting for dominance. I let him have it. His alarm goes off again, the annoying buzzing echoing around us. “Come for me, Ma Petite Mort, let me hear your beautiful cries of pleasure. I’m gonna need it to get through the day.“ He slides his hand in between us and circles my clit, matching his thrusts.

“Wes,” I moan as I come, my release coating his cock. He smirks and buries his face in my breasts and groans as he spills inside of me.

Breathless, he sits up and kisses my lips. “The best kind of cardio.” He pulls out and adjusts my hips with another pillow, keeping them elevated. I watch him walk naked to the bathroom, flipping the switch on.

“I thought we were letting this happen, naturally. You know if it happens, then it happens. This seems like a lot of effort.” I shout across the open space. I hear his chuckle echo in the bathroom. He peeks out to see that I am still lying down, hips raised.

“That’s my good girl. Keeping my cum inside you,” he walks back over. “I can’t help that I want to see you,” he runs his hand down my lower stomach to where my womb sits, “round with our baby. Fuck, that idea turns me on so much.”

And he says he doesn’t have a breeding kink.

After a few more minutes, I join him in the shower and then we get ready for the morning. I spent all of yesterday making food for him to take to work throughout the week. I also prepared some simple breakfasts that we can make quickly.

He sits down at the island, eats his egg bites, and drinks his cup of black coffee. “So what’s your plans for today, baby? You don’t have work until later, right?”

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