Page 19 of Faithless

“Ah.” The word sends his warm breath over my face. “Just a starter blowjob, then? I can’t imagine you let him go down on you?” He quirks his brows.

“No. I’m still too self-conscious after the episiotomy…”

He nods once. “Good, good. I’d be a little annoyed if that was a lie, too.”

“None of it was a lie. I really am self-conscious—”

“Of course you are.” His voice is much lower now. A whisper. “Did you let him fuck you naked?”

Even in my daze, the way he says “fuck” makes a ball of ice form in the pit of my stomach.

“No… I…” I swallow. “I was wearing a dress.”

The sound of his soft, deep chuckle sends a chill down my spine. “I’ll bet he liked that. Did he make you come?”

“I made myself come.”

He makes a “hmm” sound, and again, his breath washes over my face. A mixture of coffee and mint. I made him that coffee just hours ago. He smiled then and said, “Nice and strong.” His look was so different. So soft. Will he ever look at me that way again?

Drawn out of my daze, I pull away from him. “Mark, I don’t think it’s healthy to talk about all of this.”

“Healthy?” He laughs, a deep rumble in his chest. “I think that ship sailed when you fucked your ex-fiancé. Months ago, you said, right? How many times have you fucked him since then?”

I shake my head. “It was really more of an emotional relationship than anything—”

He raises a hand. “How many times?”

I swallow. “Probably five or six. I don’t know how I did it. It was like I was in a daze, not even thinking about what I was doing. Looking back now, I feel like a monster—”

“Nope. No thanks. I don’t want to hear any of that.” His lips graze my cheek, and his voice grows somehow softer. “I want to know when it happened. What did you tell me you were doing?”

My stomach roils, and I take a deep breath. “Girls night.” It’s the only two words I can release, and they make me gag. I’m despicable. I’m wretched.

Mark chuckles again. “So Lisa’s in on it too?”

I shut my eyes. “You can’t blame her. This is on me—”

“Yes, it is.” The words are breathless and unsteady. Standing so close, I can see the rapid heaving of his chest. The way his nostrils flare. The rigid set of his jaw. He lifts a hand and places it under my chin, gripping firmly. “This is completely on you.” He shakes his head slightly. “I can’t believe I felt a little responsible for your depression, like I didn’t tell you I loved you enough or that I thought you were beautiful even when you had those extra pounds.”

I shut my eyes in agony. My postpartum depression is a paltry excuse. I knew better. I told myself I was in a daze because I didn’t want to think about it.

“I can’t believe that this is who you really are. I thought I married an angel. Dan asked me once if you could really possibly be as sweet as you seemed, and I told him aside from being a bit of a sloppy drunk, you’re as close to an angel on earth as I’ll ever find.” His thumb rubs across my cheek, but it’s harder than his normal caress. Is he going to lose his cool?

“I’ve always hated that story. It’s a sign that you don’t really know me, and that scared me. I thought I could never live up to your expectations.”

He doesn’t seem to hear me—or see me—even though his eyes are focused on my face.

“I can’t believe you would do this,” he whispers. “I can’t believe I married a whore.”

I flinch, but he doesn’t notice. His gaze darts all over my face as if he’s just seeing me for the first time. Finally, it settles on my own. “Are you still in love with him?”

I open my mouth, but he interrupts. “Don’t. I don’t think I can answer for the consequences if you say yes.” With that, he squeezes my chin so hard that I wince.

“Don’t come near me, do you understand? Don’t come near me until I say you can. Don’t come within twenty feet of me. Do you understand?”

I swallow, nodding faintly.

He laughs softly, and it’s a breathless, frightening sound. “I understand why men kill their wives over this. I really do.”

---