Page 69 of Tormenting Me

He cuts the envelope open and hands it over to me. I pull out a printed itinerary and plane tickets. I bring the paper closer to my face as I left my glasses upstairs. The only words I can distinguish are Ireland and Scotland. Wes smirks and grabs it, reading it aloud—a two-week trip to Ireland and Scotland for our honeymoon in April. Thoughtfully put together with the help of his mother.

“Wes! This is amazing. Thank you, babe.” Tears well up in my eyes. When he asked me where the one place I would want to visit given the chance, I told him Ireland and Scotland. I didn’t think he would make that happen. I’m learning to not doubt him. If I want it, Wes is going to do everything in his power to make it happen.

“The fun I’m gonna have chasing you all over the Highlands, baby.” He has this glint in his eye that tells me I’m going to be getting a lot of exercise during that trip. Wes leans in to kiss me and I just know he is going to be insatiable.

“I better start running now, then.” I chuckle against his lips, breaking away, clutching my box of knives to my chest. Rising, I make my way over to the kitchen to start the dishes. I set the box on the table and slip one knife into my waistband. The chill of the metal blade makes my skin tingle.

With my hands in the soapy water, I wash the dishes left over from breakfast. We plan on leaving later tonight, hoping to miss the traffic tomorrow leaving Tahoe. I’m singing along and hips swaying to “Naughty Christmas” from Lacuna Coil when I feel Wes push up against my back. He grips my arm and spins me to face him. In his other hand is a knife he took from my box. The one that reads, “Love, Your Reaper.”

Before he can raise his blade, I already have mine against his throat. “So slow, my Buainteoir. You need some practice.“ I drag the blade down a little and knick his collar bone. The little drop of crimson leaves a trail as it slowly drips down his chest. I lean into him and slowly lick it up, and with his blood on my tongue, I pull his neck down. Our lips collide, and I eagerly delve into his mouth with my tongue, savoring the taste of him. He groans as his blood hits his tongue.

“Hold on to the knife,” he whispers into my mouth as he picks me up and carries me over to the sitting area. Wes bites and sucks on my neck as he drops us down to the floor. Flat on my back, he takes the knife and holds it between his teeth as he lifts my shirt over my head and pulls my leggings and underwear down. The tip of the blade touches my outer hip and the sharp sting sets fire to my flesh as he drags it down.

My eyes are on his as his tongue laps at the cut, alternating between kissing my wound and licking. Hunger in his eyes, he moves to my pussy, his tongue stained crimson. I’m already wet and ready for him. Wes moans as his tongue lavishes my clit, dipping his tongue lower and inside me.

“Oh, fuck. Wes, just like that.” My back arches off the floor as he sucks my clit into his mouth.

He rises on his knees, spreading my knees further apart. He pulls his pants down so they are just under his ass. His cock is hard and precum beads at the tip.

“Your husband is gonna fill this pretty pussy, baby. I’m gonna fuck my baby into this perfect body of yours. You’re gonna be a good girl and take it all.” He thrusts his cock inside of me. Wes hovers over me, holding himself up on his elbows. Putting the knife in my hand, he brings it up to his neck. “If I don’t make you come, kill me. My life would not be worth living if I can’t make you feel the absolute nirvana I feel when I am inside you.” With his lips on mine, he devours my moans, replacing them with his own.

“I fucking love you, Layne.”

“And I love you.” Never have I meant those three words more.

Wes’s thrusts are deep and rough, inching us closer to the tree. The sharp blade grazes his neck, nicking him and a few droplets of blood trickle down on me. Wes’s hand wraps around my throat, squeezing, building a delicious pressure. With each of his thrusts, the hazy tingling grows more intense. My grip on the knife loosens, and he moves my arm away as it clatters to the floor. “We don’t need that anymore. You’re about to come for me, aren’t you baby?” He moans. My vision spots and I let out a strained whimper as my pussy clenches around him. I ride out my orgasm, coming harder than ever with his hand around my throat. He removes his hand just as my orgasm peaks, and he empties himself inside me. His moans and curses fill the little cabin. “Good girl, Layne. You take your husband’s cock so well, baby.”

Best fucking Christmas ever.

Chapter forty-one

Wes

February

It’s a nippy sixty-one degrees out today in the city and while I would rather be at home, curled up in bed with Layne, we’re at Atlas’s house for a cookout. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve come to actually like Atlas, and his family is pretty great. A very welcoming group of people. Even Atlas’s boyfriend Sky is a decent dude. The moment I walked into her home, his mother, Lorna, throws her arms around me.

“Thank you so much for loving our girl.” She whispers in my ear, squeezing me tight.

Nobody, not even Layne, understands how much it means to me that she’s mine. Her love and acceptance of me has saved me more than she realizes.

“Thank you for loving her, too.” I squeeze her back, my voice cracking from the emotions. “For when I wasn’t there to love her yet.”

Fuck, I will not cry at this woman’s house.

I look over and see Layne talking with Sky and Atlas, a huge grin plastered on her face as she gives them a PG-13-rated synopsis of our Christmas. Her eyes find mine and while Lorna drags me by my hand to the kitchen to meet more of Atlas’s family, she bites her lip playfully. I have to hold back the urge to drag her off to the bathroom and fuck the shit out of her, because how awkward would that be? Layne’s inability to be quiet would surely lead to us getting caught.

Lorna introduces me to more of Atlas’s family and I can’t help but feel joy and a bit of frustration. Joy, because being surrounded by this loving and accepting family makes me appreciate how lucky I am to have Layne in my life. Frustration, because the desire to be alone with her is almost unbearable.

I try to focus on the conversation and engage with Atlas’s family, but my mind keeps drifting back to Layne. Her playful gaze, her mischievous smile, and the way she effortlessly captivates everyone around her. I can’t help but think about how incredible she is.

How the fuck did I get so lucky?

But reality sets in, reminding me that this is not the time or place for indulging our desires. We need to maintain some level of decorum, especially in front of Atlas’s family. It’s a challenging task, though, as Layne’s magnetic presence constantly pulls me towards her.

I steal glances at her as we continue mingling with the family. Her laughter fills the air, making my heart swell with happiness. I feel guilty for not being there for her before, but I’ll make it up now. If there is one thing I know, I won’t mess up at being her husband. Whatever connection we have is otherworldly. If I was a sappy fuck, I’d say it was fate, or destiny that brought us together.

Okay, I am a sappy fuck. It was totally fate. She’s the Morticia to my Gomez.

---