Page 85 of His to Bedevil

Swallowing down every drop of cum he offers me, I slide his softening cock out of my mouth and lick my lips again. Before he reaches out to pull me to my feet, I stand on my own. “Now, let’s go to bed,” I say with a sly grin.

Alejandro

The past day and a half I’ve spent sleeping. If I didn’t have Irma beside me, there’s no way in hell anyone could keep me in bed this long. No one but Irma. My loyal wife. I never thought I would have her loyalty like this. For her to risk her own life to save mine. To give up her freedom to stay by my side. Why though? Is there something in it for her? Is she playing me? Or does she actually care for me?

These thoughts keep playing and playing in my mind as I’m waking up. I reach for Irma, but she isn’t there. “Irma?” I rasp, and look around.

I see her over at the table where we have a lot of our meals, and she jumps to her feet. I push myself up into a sitting position, and she quickly comes to my aid. She’s been babying the hell out of me, and I don’t hate it. I don’t feel vulnerable with her. I feel cared for. Cherished. Possibly loved.

“Let me check your dressings really quick, since you were sleeping on your damn back,” she mutters, and climbs on the bed to check my back. My eyes flutter shut when I feel her light touches and feel her breath lick at my exposed skin. “Still looks good. No bleeding. I really think you might be part god or something.”

I chuckle as she gets back up to her feet in front of me. “No, I just have a good reason to live.” I look at her when I say this, and she quickly looks away. She’s avoided any kind of serious conversations since we’ve been alone.

Dipping her shoulder under my arm, she lets me lean on her a little to get up to my own feet. “You hungry? I’m sorry, I had them bring our breakfast up an hour ago. I didn’t know you would sleep so long, since you refuse to.Ever.”

“How long did I sleep?” I stop at the table, but I don’t take my seat.

“Almost twelve hours,” she responds, and sits down.

I run my hands over my face. “I need to go wash up first. Have you eaten yet?”

“A little.”

“Then we’ll shower after.” I head for the bathroom to wash up some. I cleaned up my beard yesterday, but it’s been days since I’ve trimmed it, so it’s longer and thicker. It’ll have to wait though.

I exit the bathroom and join Irma at our little table that I never got any use out of before she came along. We sit there and eat in silence while I observe her, trying to figure her out. It’s obvious that she’s deliberately avoiding eye contact with me.

When I first asked her why she stayed, she looked like she wanted to do anythingbutstay. She looked like she was about to run. So, I’ve left the question alone since our shower. I gave her some time, but it’s time to start talking.

“Tell me why you saved me, Irma,” I state calmly.

She sighs as she picks around her food. “I don’t know,” she says without meeting my eyes. “It was my wifely duty not to leave you to die.” Her tone is unemotional as she shrugs her shoulders.

“You do know why. Why?” I can feel myself losing my patience with her. She just sits there in silence, still not fucking looking at me. Acting like she doesn’t even want to be here. But she does want to be here. Or she would’ve run, unless there’s another reason for staying.

Snapping, I pound my fist on the table, making everything jump and clatter. She flinches, but still her eyes do not meet mine. “Why?” I roar. “You could’ve run and saved yourself. I even told you to!” I seethe. “You could’ve been free of me. For good. Why would you save me and stay? Why?” My voice is a little calmer toward the end. With more bafflement than frustration.

Her chin begins to tremble, and I can see her trying to blink away the tears forming in her eyes. Getting up, I round the table and wince in pain when I crouch down in front of her. This position is painful, but I need her eyes on mine. And I need answers. What’s in it for her by sticking around?

“Tell me, my love,” I say quietly, reaching up and tucking some hair behind her ear. My fingers trail a soft path down her face, and her eyes flutter shut. “Look at me,” I say softly. Finally, she does with tear-filled eyes, but they don’t fall. I’ve had her for close to a yearnow and not once has she cried. Not in front of me, that is. “Why?” I ask again.

She licks her lips before speaking. “Because for some crazy reason, I couldn’t let you die.”

“You couldn’t let me die,” I deadpan, feeling frustrated with her vague answer. “You dragged me off to safety and could’ve left me then. If my men didn’t show up when they did, there would’ve been nothing you could do. You would’ve died with me. You should’ve fucking run. I told you to,” I say through gritted teeth. She just shrugs again and shakes her head. “Tell me,” I demand, feeling ready to explode with rage.

Her mouth opens and then closes, and she repeats the action as if she’s about to say something then changes her mind. And it only infuriates me more. To the point where I combust. “Tell me!” my voice bellows, bouncing off the walls of the room.

“Because I love you!” she screams in my face, eyes ablaze. “I fucking love you!” She’s still holding back her tears as I sit there staring at her in shock. “That’s why I couldn’t run and save myself. I’d rather die trying to save you and protect you than run and save myself. I’d rather die by your side than be free. The thought of leaving you there helpless and half alive precluded me from moving one foot away from you. It wasn’t even a choice. No matter how many opportunities I had to escape, I just couldn’t make myself do it.” She shakes her head, sniffling, but still no tears escape. “I kept giving myself excuses. Telling myself that when you woke up and realized I saved your life, you would let me go. That I would earn my freedom, but in the back of my mind, I knew that wasn’t true, and still I stayed.”

Our chests are heaving, and our horns are locked. Daring each other to be the one to break first in this intense stare down. I search her eyes for any falter or weakness, but I see none. I see the fierce woman I’m infatuated with. Obsessed with. But do I love her? I don’t even know if I’m capable of it. The kind of love that is selfless and self-sacrificing. I would die for her, but would I ever give her up if it was what was best for her? No. I would never give her up. Even if she asked me to right now. So, it can’t be love that I feel for her. It’s obsession and lust. Possessiveness.

Grabbing her by the nape of her neck, I slam her mouth down onto mine and kiss her with all the passion in the world. I may not be able to return her words, but I’ll show her that I’ll always care for her and protect her. And most of all, I’ll always keep her. She belongs to me, and I will not let her ever feel alone again.

Gripping her by the backs of her thighs, I scoop her up with me when I stand to my feet. The movement is painful, but fuck it. My wife loves me. Irma fucking loves me. I’m not quite sure I even believe it. A woman like Irma loving a man like me. Especially after everything that I’ve done to her.

I wrap her legs around me and hiss into her mouth from the pain in my ribs and the pulling at the skin on my back. “Alejo, you cannot be doing any lifting. Put me down,” she reprimands in a breathy voice.

“Never,” I growl, and head for our bed. I ignore the pain because all that matters right now is that I have Irma’s love and loyalty. Fuck the pain. I’ve never felt stronger. More invincible.

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