Page 83 of Tormenting Me

I kiss him. With all the pain and sadness, I pour every emotion into this kiss. I want his touch to heal my broken heart, my broken body. “All I want is you,” I whisper into his mouth, “I want every piece of you.”

You’ve got me, baby. I’m all yours.”

Wes tosses me on the bed. He pulls off my sweatpants and underwear, and I spread my thighs wide. I stopped bleeding a few days ago, so we won’t be ruining our bedding this time. Not that Wes would care. He growls as he sees how wet I am for him. “Fuck,” he groans, smothering my pussy with his face. His greedy tongue lapping up my arousal. Wes eats pussy like it’s an art and god dammit, he is a fucking master. My back arches off the bed as he sucks on my clit.

He eases two fingers inside me, inching me closer to orgasm. “That’s it, Layne. You’re going to take my cock like the good little slut you are.”

I whimper as he thrusts his fingers inside of me, finding the spot that has me writhing.

“You’re my pretty little slut, aren’t you, baby? You only get wet for your husband’s cock. Show me how much you love it. I want your pretty little pussy covering me in your cum.” Wes pulls his finger out, sliding them into his mouth, groaning as he tastes me on his tongue.

Wes stands back and undoes his boot and slacks. He rips his shirt over his head and climbs on top of me. Wes is a devil with a good heart. Soft yet strong. He’s unapologetic and honest. The exact type of man you want by your side when the world is falling apart. Right now, our world is falling apart, and I don’t know how to stop it from crumbling around us.

We find peace from the pain in each other’s arms. We always have. As he hovers above me, his eyes filled with love and desire, I know he’ll never leave me. Our bodies meld together, the weight of the world slipping away as we become lost in the passion that consumes us. With every touch, every kiss, Wes is determined to mend the broken pieces of my heart. With every thrust, I feel like he is trying to mend his shattered heart along with mine.

I know he is hurting. He lost a baby, too.

As he fucks me, waves of pleasure wash over me, erasing the anguish that had threatened to consume me. Our bodies move in perfect harmony, a dance of love and release. In this moment, there is only us, our connection deepening with every intimate touch.

Wes’s breath against my skin ignites a fire within me, his words battling with the voice inside my head.

“Every part of you is mine, Ma Petite Mort. I’ve fucking missed you,“ he groans, hiking my legs up around his waist as he drives into me. “So fucking much, baby.”

I surrender to him completely, knowing that he cherishes me and would do anything to protect me. With every thrust, he claims me, reminding me of the unbreakable bond between us.

The only way he would ever move on from me is if I died. He would have to move on. Right?

The intrusive thoughts hit me right as he whimpers, “Fuck, I’m coming, baby.” Wes’s body trembles as he comes deep inside me. For the first time in our relationship, I don’t finish. Wes pulls back, concern on his face. “Baby?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” I pull him back down and hold him to me. “I’m fine,” I whisper, kissing his hair. He stays inside me until I feel him soften. After a while, as we lie tangled in each other’s arms, his breathing deepens and I look down at his face and notice he’s fallen asleep.

The only way to force him to move on is if I am not in the picture anymore.

Then you know what you have to do.

He’ll move on. Wes will find someone who is not broken. Someone who can have his children. If there isn’t anything that life has proven to me is that I was supposed to die. I feel like I have been waiting for the reason since I was fifteen.

It’s finally too much to bear.

Chapter fifty-one

Wes

The chill from the fridge hits me as I pull out the containers holding my lunch. I peer over my shoulder at Layne who sits at the counter reading her book and sipping a cup of tea. She looks lost in her head, even though she stares at her Kindle. I haven’t seen her swipe to turn the page. This is killing me. I just want to fix whatever needs to be fixed. I just don’t know how.

“Alright, Ma Petite Mort. I’m heading out. Bring your sexy ass over here and give me a kiss.“ I tease, motioning with my outstretched finger for her to come here.

“Make me.” She says, glaring at me from behind her Kindle. I see Bratty Layne is coming out in full force this morning.

“Make you what, a mom, baby? Don’t fuck with me Layne, I’ll tie your ass up so fast and keep you so full of my cum that there would need to be divine intervention to keep you from getting pregnant again. Stop bratting and drop the attitude unless you want me to fix it for you.” I say, leaning over to peck her cheek. “I’ll be home early today because I’ll be doing stuff out in the field. How about I bring home dinner?”

The words hang in the air between us as Layne’s eyes narrow at me. I immediately regret my choice of words, realizing that I’ve crossed a line. She probably isn’t ready for me to bring up being pregnant again. A wave of guilt washes over me, battling with the frustration that has been building up inside me.

Stepping back, my voice softens. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Layne. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I reach out to her arm with a gentle touch, hoping that she will sense my sincerity. “I just... wasn’t thinking.”

Fuck. Nice job, Wes. Way to fuck up right before you leave her for a day of work.

---