Page 82 of Tormenting Me

Layne gives me a hard stare, her eyes piercing into mine, before she slowly tilts her head to the side. “You have a sword? Oh, god, is it what I think it is?”

I give her a smirk, shrugging my shoulders. “Yeah…it’s Andúril.“ I make my way over to our closet where I pull down a case, walking it over to our bed.

“How did I end up with such a nerd?” Layne giggles as I unzip the bag, pulling out the sword.

“Because I’m fucking awesome.” I say, wielding the sword. “You can’t deny I’m the sexiest nerd you’ve ever seen.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know?” She gives me a look and I am immediately jealous.

“Who?” I ask, acting like I’ve been betrayed.

“Don’t worry, nobody you’d ever have to worry about.” She saunters back over to the table, picking up one of the black throwing daggers. I watch as she leans forward, wincing as she gets hit by the pain.

“Come on, let’s sit down for a little. You can tell me about whatever food you burnt.” I chuckle, zipping the sword back in its case, and returning it to the closet.

I make my way back across the room towards her, gently placing my hand on her stomach. She promptly smacks my hand away, saying, “Don’t.” I can hear the pain in her voice.

“Baby,” I say. “I swear to God or whatever the fuck is out there, everything is going to work out. You know me. I am a determined motherfucker. I’ll fucking make it happen.”

“If there is a God, Wes, and I mean a big fucking if. He is going to have to beg for my forgiveness. For the shit hand I got dealt in life, for how we are struggling to do the one thing they warned us against as kids. A baby, all I fucking want, all you want, is a baby.” Tears stream down her face, the dagger still clutched in her hand. “You deserve someone who can give you that.”

Running my hand over my face, I push my hair back. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you, especially over something like this. You think I’m just going to give up on us? I’m gonna be here every single time you need me. You can doubt it. You can try to push me away because you think I’ll just leave anyway, but that’ll never happen. Regardless of the million reasons your mind will try to think up to get me to leave...you’re the only reason I’ll ever need to stay, Layne.”

Chapter fifty

Layne

“My soul’s yours Layne. It’s yours to love and cherish. Or it’s yours to destroy. Either way, I’m at your mercy. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” Wes smirks as he makes his way in front of me. “I’d just stalk you all over again, round and round we’d go.” I take the blade in my hand and hold it to his throat, stopping him from moving any further.

“I love you,” I whisper, my knife pressed to his throat. “But I’m so fucking angry. That the one thing we want is being ripped away from us. That it’s my body that’s failing us.”

Wes stares into my eyes, drinking in my rage. “Please, just let me touch you,” he begs, “I don’t care if we never have biological kids. But I can’t live my life never being able to touch you again. You’re my oxygen, Layne. I need you to breathe.” His tone has changed, the low, sultry voice he uses in bed. It makes my heart race and my blood warms for him.

Only him.

With my knife still at his throat, he steps toward me, blood appearing at the tip of the blade. Wes invades my space and, as he inches closer, the blade digs a little deeper. I find a strange comfort in knowing he would bleed for me. That he would spill his blood just to be closer to me.

“Don’t use that voice with me,” I groan.

His eyes darken, licking his lips.“What voice would that be Ma Petite Mort?“ He says, leaning into me he drags his tongue up my throat.

My voice shakes, my core throbbing. “That one. Your deep, lust-filled voice that never fails to get me wet.”

He slides his hand down my stomach to the apex of my thighs. His moan vibrates off of my throat as he slips his fingers inside me. “Looks like it still does the job.”

The blade drops to the floor, and Wes hoists me into his arms. “I think you’ve forgotten, Ma Petite Mort. You’ve forgotten that while you own me, heart and soul. That I own yours too. If your heart breaks, it’s my heart breaking. If you stop breathing, I stop breathing. If you bleed, I bleed.”

I gasp, drawing in a breath to my already tightening chest. “Fix it, please.”

“What do I need to fix, baby?” His mouth covering mine, consuming me. Wes tries to take all the pain away with this kiss.

“Me. Fix me.” I pant as I grind against him.

Wes carries me over to our bed, his face buried in my neck, kissing his favorite spot just under my ear. He pulls back with a crooked grin on his face, “Now, my dearest wife, are you gonna let me eat your pussy? Your husband’s starving and the only taste I want on my tongue is you.”

“I don’t know if I should kiss you or stab you,” I let out an exasperated laugh.

With his lips pressed to mine, he breathes into me. “Kiss me. You’ve dropped your knife. You can stab me later. Somehow, I know I’ll do something to deserve it.”

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