Page 18 of The Bones We Break
“Does she know about her parents?” Nico asks. I haven’t told my precious wife about her parents. There’s no need too. I did what I had to do and I got what I wanted in doing so. “No. She doesn’t need to know. And she’s too stupid to find out by herself anyway.” I say whilst running my fingers over my nose. Nico pauses for a moment, an untraceable mood on his face.
“What is it?” I bite.
“This might be completely out of order for me to say, Boss, and I’ll take the punishment that comes with it but-” he stops, trying to find his words. “Why claim Annabelle? Why marry her? She’s no ties to anyone important. And her father was a nobody.” He finishes, the nerves apparent on his face. I knock a fist on the bar top, getting the staff’s attention once again.
“Double whiskey, neat.” I say through gritted teeth. The lanky man behind the bar nods once before preparing my drink then quickly places the glass in front of me again. Grabbing it, my knuckles whitening under the pressure, I shoot the amber liquid once again before slowly placing the crystal back down on the bar. I inhale a deep breath through my nose before spinning on my heel to face Nico.
“You’re right, Annabelle is nothing. To me, to the world. She might be nothing but a good fucking lay, but her father tried to fuck me over. And I don’t appreciate people trying to fuck. Me. Over. So now her whore of a mother died knowing her fathergave Annabelle up to me to save his own ass, and he has to live his pathetic fucking life knowing I own his daughter, In every single way. She’ll be my good, little obedient wife who sucks my cock dry until her jaw aches, every night.” I say, my anger coming to a boil.
“Annabelle is nothing without me, and to have that kind of control in the palm of your hands is intoxicating. She’ll never take a step without me saying it’s okay to do so. She’ll never take a full breath unless I allow her to. Women are nothing but holes to fuck. My own mother was one, and so is my wife.” Nico’s face stays stoic, parting his lips to simply say. “Understood Boss.”
With that I turned away from him, slipping through the crowd of guests before finding the men’s bathroom, pushing the heavy door open and leaving it to slam shut behind me. My fists tighten in a death grip at my side.
Since when do people think they can fucking question my decisions? I kick open the stall door, the wood smacking into the wall, causing the door frame to shake under the force. I don’t bother to shut it behind me, I’ll kill anyone who comes in here. Shoving my hand into the inside pocket of my suit I fumble around trying to grab the small bag.
“FUCK!” I try to rein my anger in, the tension rising in my chest. My fingers wrap around the bag of cocaine and I pour a small amount onto the back of the toilet, forming it into a line with my credit card. Cracking my neck from side to side, I hear the popping of muscles then press my index finger to my nostril before dipping my head to run my nose along the cold porcelain, snorting up the snowy powder then wiping the residue onto my gums. Fuck, that’s good. My head hits the wall as I stare into the fluorescent lights, feeling my eyelids go heavy before a rapid rush of adrenaline fires through my synapsis. The buzz of the drugs sends a tingling sensation all over my skin, heating itthrough my clothes. I need to wrap this shit show up and fuck my whore of a wife.
Exiting the bathroom, I find myself on a man hunt to locate my wife, scanning the crowd of people in the room with efficiency before landing my heated gaze onto Annabelle. She really is a pretty little thing. I start across the room, the guests parting before me until I reach Annabelle’s side, and wrap my hand around her upper arm to pull her towards me. She stumbles slightly in her heels before landing into my arms. Her gaze finds mine, so full of love, it makes me sick.
“Is everything okay? You don’t look too well.” She says, her face contorting into worry. I take a quick sniff up through my nose and run a palm down my face. My blood is on fucking fire.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. I just.. I want you, you know I love you right? I just want to make love to my fucking wife.” I don’t understand the words coming out of my mouth, because they aren’t mine. I’m not capable of loving someone. I know deep down Annabelle deserves to live a life with real love, but I’m too much of an evil bastard to give her up. I don’t deserve her, but no one else does either. She wraps her arms around my shoulders, her chin lifting to meet my eyes.
“I love you too. But, Ricky, our guests are still here. We can’t just leave. Plus, I’ve.. I’ve never done this before, I’m not sure if I’m ready.” She says, her voice low, her powder blue eyes darting from mine. I run my hands up her dress, over her arms, to her shoulders before placing my hands on either side of her face, turning her to look at me again. My fingers are gripping into her soft skin.
“It’s our wedding, my love. If we want to leave, we can.” I say. “I’m your husband, don’t you want me?” I question, my head tilting to the side. I’m manipulating her, I know I am, and I can’t stop.
“Of course I want you. I’m just scared is all. What if it hurts?” Her fingers start to fidget with the collar of my shirt, her nerves clearly on show. Removing my hand from her face I rub the pad of my thumb against her pink bottom lip, pushing the soft flesh around, imagining my teeth sinking into it until she cries for me to stop. Lowering my head, I drop my mouth to the side of her face, breathing in her sweet scent.
“I’ll make you feel good, I promise. You’ll make me such a happy man if you let me have you. You want to make me happy, don’t you?” I say, planting a soft kiss to the top of her ear and she shudders. Her slim fingers grip the back of my collar. She’ll want to do this for me, not for herself. She’s been groomed to make her husband happy. She’s so good for me. I trail hot kisses down her jaw line until I meet the white lace material encompassing her slender neck and pull it down slightly to bite the tender skin. She tries to hold in a moan, but it slips free from her parted mouth. I push my finger against her soft lips to silence her.
“You’ll only ever moan for me. Not for anyone else to hear.” I say, keeping my voice low. She nods against my finger like the good girl she is. “You belong to me, and you’re going to give me what I want, sweetheart.” The pet name alone is the cutting of the final string that’s keeping her tethered to her virginity. Her pink lips find mine and brush over each other ever so slightly. I can smell her minty breath mixed with some fruity wine, invade my senses, the coke I snorted before only adding to the mixture. She pauses for a moment, contemplating her next move.
“I’ll give you what you want, Ricky.” She whispers against my lips and I quickly snatch her lip in between my teeth like a viper, tasting the copper that’s rising to the surface. My wife whimpers, a moan mixed with a plea. She tries to pull away from my bruising grip, and I let the now bruised flesh of her lipbounce back. I don’t give her a chance to rethink the situation before I wrap my hand around hers and pull her through the crowd. A few loud whistles, mostly from the men, bounce around the room. They know exactly what I’m about to do to her. But they have no idea that she won’t be begging for me to make her come, she’ll be begging for me to stop.
My mind is on overdrive, everything is happening so fast, like a ride I can’t get off. I’m about to hand my virginity over to my husband, but at what cost? I want to do this, don’t I? This will make Ricky happy, and that in turn makes me happy. So why do I feel this sudden urge to run? But that would mean betraying my husband, and I can’t bring myself to do that. We love each other. This is what marriage is about, handing a piece of myself over to the person I love, to the person who deserves it. I’m doing this for us. Ricky wants me fully and wholeheartedly and I’d be failing him if I said no. His hand tightens around mine, crushing the bones tightly together causing me to wince. I try to voice my pain but he can’t hear me over the loud cheering and whistles from our guests. Ducking my chin, the heat of embarrassment claws its way up my face.
Ricky drags me through the double doors of the reception room, then down the white hallway towards the elevator. The blood red carpet blurring under my feet. I’ve never known a man to be so desperate to have his wife, the feeling is unusual to me. It sends my blood rushing through my veins, the excitement but also a heavy sense of dread at what’s about to happen. Will my husband take his time with me? Will he be gentle, and make me feel good? Will he stop if I tell him to? All these questionsping pong around my mind and I feel myself starting to feel sick with worry. I don’t even have a moment of reprieve before I’m pulled into the elevator, my back thrust against the metal wall of the box. Ricky pins my hands above my head and I squirm under his touch, my breathing heavy and ragged. He begins to plant wet, hot kisses down my jaw to the sensitive spot underneath my ear and I moan at every little touch.
“Ricky.” I pant. “Someone could come in here and see us.” I try to pull my hands free from his grasp but he simply tightens them more, the small bones crushing together. Ricky brings his face to mine, nose to nose, mouth to mouth.
“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks of stepping foot in here and sees my fucking wife moaning underneath me.” His dark words have me widening my eyes, like a deer in headlights. I’ve never heard such phrases come out of my husband’s mouth before, it has me in a state of terror but also a wet puddle. I can’t pick which feeling to focus on the most. Thankfully before he can carry on wanting to screw me in the elevator, it stops on our floor, the double doors sliding open. I sigh a moment of relief when I see our floor is empty of people. Ricky drops my hands from above my head, then proceeds to run his hands down my arms before circling my waist. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot, the black pupils blown wide, almost covering his stormy eyes. Gently, I bring my hand up to cup his face, the slight scruff of his growing stubble, rough against my skin.
“Are you okay? Your eyes are red.” I ask, not really sure what’s going on with him. He shakes his head away from my hand.
“I said I’m fine!” He snaps and I flinch backwards, my head hitting the metal wall behind me. Lifting my hand, I rub the sore spot on my skull.
“Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” He starts,pushing my hair from my face, leaving small kisses over my skin. “I just.. I just love you so much you see, I can’t control myself around you. You know I’d never hurt you, yeah?” His blown out eyes plead with mine. I’m too quick to accept his apology, knowing I probably deserved his tone of voice. He’s no doubt had enough of being asked if he’s okay. I need to be quiet. My eyes well with unshed tears, and I nod. Accepting him. Accepting his words.
The doors start to close and Ricky pulls me out, barely scraping through the gap. He leads me down the silent hallway until we reach our suite and drops my hand for a moment before reaching inside of his suit for the key card and unlocking the door. Pushing the heavy white door open, he enters first then pulls me in after him, my feet falling over each other in the high heels and tight dress. Ricky saves me from falling face first into the plush carpet then brings my body flush to his, his hot breath fanning over my face, the smell slightly minty with a heavy trace of whiskey. Maybe that’s why he snapped before, it’s the drink talking. Not my husband. I don’t have time to confirm my answer before his mouth crashes against mine, teeth hitting teeth. It’s desperate and powerful. It’s all consuming and I can’t seem to focus on anything but this passionate kiss. I moan against his mouth, my body giving in to its basic needs as he grips both my wrists in one hand behind my back and begins walking me backwards to the huge king size bed. The white sheets are covered in crimson rose petals that lay on the surface like droplets of blood. Our mouths never break apart until he pushes me down to sit on the edge of the bed. The tension instantly released from my lower back at the comfort of the bed. Ricky stands tall before me, all powerful. Gradually, I tilt my head up to meet his dark gaze and he dips his chin to his chest to look down at me, his head slowly tilting to the side, as if eyeing up the prey that’s caught in his trap. I blink a coupleof times, my breath shaky. I feel the pad of his soft thumb run against my bottom lip as he pushes the puffy flesh down, baring my lower teeth to him, his other hand reaching for his belt buckle. He begins to slip the leather through the gold buckle with expert precision, as if he’s done this exact same situation before. Closing my eyes for a split second, I attempt to send the nauseating thought away. I’m his wife, he’s married to me now. Anyone before me is irrelevant. He wants me, he wants this and I have a duty to give it to him. His rich voice derails my train of thought.
“I’m going to enjoy fucking this pretty mouth of yours. Feeling you gag around my cock.” His filthy and degrading words send a zap of pleasure down my spine and I find myself nodding, his thumb still taking my bottom lip hostage. Ricky slides his thumb into my mouth, the musky smell from his skin infiltrates my nose and I wrap my lips around the digit, sucking him in.
“Take my cock out, wife.” He demands. With his thumb still trapped in my mouth, I bring my shaky hands up to his trousers, the belt already hanging open. I’ve never seen him in the flesh before, I’ve never had a cock in my mouth before. I hope I can please him.
Gripping the waistband of his boxers, I lower them slightly, the smattering of hair on his lower abdomen leads into the forbidden. My tongue swirls around his skin as I continue to suck on his thumb, whilst pulling the black fabric down over his tapered hips, his thick, heavy cock springs free and my eyes bug. He pulls his thumb free from my mouth with an audible pop then wraps his hand around his length, his fingers barely touching around the width. A deep, heavy groan leaves his throat as he moves the soft, pink skin up and down in a slow rhythm. I take note of every movement, imprinting it to memoryso I know how to do this right, for him.
“Wrap your hands around my cock, sweetheart. You wanna make me feel good?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his handsome face.
