Somebody’s Perfect

by Kallypso Masters

  Having Marisol become fascinated by Esperanza’s story pleased him greatly.

  He glanced over Marisol’s head at Savannah to find her staring into space. She’d been quieter than usual since they’d come back from Dad and Karla’s. After her intense subspace experience this afternoon, was she experiencing subdrop?

  As soon as Marisol wrapped up this story and he tucked her in bed, he and Savannah could have some time to cuddle and talk, maybe even finish what they’d started earlier. He’d had to fight a hard-on all night every time he pictured her during today’s fantasy scene.

  “Daddy, were your parents rich when they lived in Mexico, like Esperanza’s?”

  Pulled back to the present, he grinned down at her upturned face. “I wouldn’t say rich. They were comfortable, though, before hard times came and they had to flee to California. But times were hard there, too. Everyone suffered during the Great Depression.”

  “I’m glad we have a house to live in and that you don’t have to work in the fields. It would be hard to do with your leg.”

  His parents had spared him from a life like that by providing a stable home in Eden Gardens and everything they could for the two children who had lived—Rosa and him. “Yes, it would.” Their lives had been easy compared to his parents’ and grandparents’. And Savannah’s.

  “Listen, mi muñequita, it’s time for you to go to bed. You have school in the morning.” He took the book and laid it on the coffee table.

  “Thanks for reading Esperanza’s story to us again, sweetie.” Savannah smiled at their daughter but still didn’t seem to be completely present.

  Twenty minutes later, with Marisol tucked in bed, he took Savannah by the hand and led her to their bedroom. “I think we have some unfinished business, mi mariposa.”

  He expected a little more enthusiasm from her, but she merely acknowledged him with a mmm-hmm. Time to find out what was going on. He continued past the bed to the aftercare chair. Her body grew stiffer when she sat on his lap, and she seemed to be trying to avoid his erection. “What’s wrong, savita?”

  “Nothing. Just tired, I guess.”

  He stroked her silky hair and pulled her head against his shoulder. “Do you feel like you’re in subdrop?”

  “Could be. I’ve rarely dropped, so I don’t know for sure. Could be any number of reasons, but I’m feeling a little depressed tonight.”

  “Do you think it has to do with the trial?”

  “Most likely. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

  “Try not to worry about it too much. We’ll work to prepare you over the next two months.”

  “Not even two months.”

  “We’ll have enough time. Don’t you worry. You know I’ll be there with you, too.”

  “I wish you could be with me when I testify.”

  He suspected that had her nervous. “Let me talk to Dad and see what he thinks will help to get you ready. But tonight, I want you to let me pamper you. How about I give you a massage and we just snuggle in bed?”

  Her body relaxed for the first time all night. If she didn’t want to have sex, didn’t she know she could just say so? While he wanted her more each day, he didn’t intend to force her to put out, which would make him no better than the assholes who’d used her body in the past.

  They cuddled a few more minutes before he patted her thigh. “Okay, you can have the bathroom first. Then wait for me in bed.”

  She sat up, the muscles around her eyes relaxing for the first time since this afternoon. She smiled at him. “Thanks, Damián, for understanding that I’m not really up for anything more tonight.”

  “You know you can tell me when you don’t feel like it. We don’t have to have sex every night.” Maybe he had gotten used to it for the past six months, but she had a lot going on right now.

  Her teeth bit the corner of her lower lip. “I know. I’m sure I’d have gotten in the mood eventually, but…it seemed so daunting tonight. Thanks for understanding.”

  “I can’t read your mind, querida. Talk to me about anything, whenever you need to.”

  She smiled and placed a peck on his cheek. “I promise I will.”

  He helped her up and watched her pad on bare feet into the master bathroom. He couldn’t shake the feeling she was hiding something from him. Did it have to do with the upcoming trial, a resurgence of PTSD, or something not even on his radar?

  Would he have to push harder to get Savannah to open up to him again? She’d kept so much inside when they first reunited but had made so much progress since then. Sadly, he knew how PTSD worked, too.

  When she came out of the bathroom, he headed in there to take a cold shower.

  Later, he massaged the tenseness from her shoulders and spooned against Savannah, hoping they could return to the way things had been before that fucking phone call from the DA.

  * * *

  His hands closed around her throat. Dizzy. Savannah tried to kick his weight off the baby but couldn’t. The rapist had tied her hands to the bedposts. Useless.

  “Please, don’t hurt my baby!”

  But the man relentlessly removed her panties. She pulled her legs up to her belly in an effort to protect the baby, but he twisted her body to her side and entered her from behind. Raw pain. Every inch of his penis abraded her vagina as he penetrated her.

  Please, God, let the baby be okay!

  At least in this position, the man’s body wasn’t pressing on the baby. Perhaps if she didn’t struggle, he would finish quickly and get out of her home.

  “You dirty little whore.” Father!?! How had he gotten out of jail? “Allowing that spic to plant his filthy seed inside you. I ought to cut it out of you and rid you of that bastard and its sperm donor once and for all.”

  “No!!! Get out!” Savannah gasped for breath as she clawed at the air. When had he released her hands? His body pressed more tightly to hers.

  “Bebé, wake up. You’re having another nightmare.”

  How did Damián get in here? Didn’t he know Father wanted him dead?

  Perspiration chilled her face in the morning air as she blinked her eyes open and turned her head. Damián’s face hovered above hers, his hand stroking her sweaty hair. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped. Wild-eyed, her gaze darted around the predawn bedroom, but she saw no one lurking in the darkness.

  His hand stroked down her arm until he gently tugged her toward him, almost onto her back. So it had been his body—his erection—pressed against her backside that had triggered the scenario in the dream.

  Had they had sex while she slept—without her consent—or was that part of the dream? She felt disconnected from her body—and from Damián, too, right now.

  “Shh. It’s over now. You’re safe. I’m here.” He continued with a litany of soothing euphemisms she wanted to believe but couldn’t. This nightmare would never end.

  Would she ever be safe from Gentry and the way he’d made her question even Damián’s actions, who had never taken advantage of her, not even that first night in the penthouse? She doubted it. Not unless he was put away in a supermax prison ten stories underground, but men like him rarely served time in places like that.

  “What was the dream about?”

  Savannah met Damián’s gaze once more. “I can’t remember any details. Someone tried to harm our baby.” While she wasn’t being completely honest with him, she didn’t want to disappoint him, either, by showing him what a bad mental place she was in right now. He’d worked so hard and had done such a great job at ridding her of the nightmares and flashbacks. It pained her to have him think she was reverting to old behaviors. He always told her how strong and brave she was. What if he saw what a coward she truly was inside? He respected and honored bravery in others above almost any other trait. Would he lose interest in her if she didn’t live up to his standard?

  Logically, she knew her years of abuse and neglect were a big reason for her insecurities, but tell that t
o her inner child who had learned never to trust anyone to be there for her.

  He bent and gently kissed her lips then pulled back and smiled. “You have my word that no one will hurt you or anyone in my family ever again.”

  She wanted to believe him, but he and Adam had tried to outsmart Lyle and Gentry before, only to have their security breached when Savannah was kidnapped and Mari’s safety compromised. They were dangerous, evil—even from behind bars. And soon Gentry would be let out of his cell every day and transported to his trial. Lyle would be there to testify, too, no doubt. Were either of them savvy enough to orchestrate an escape? It had been known to happen on the news, anyway. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of either of them being free again.

  “I need to use the bathroom.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and sat up, waiting for her equilibrium to steady as long as she dared before standing.

  “Need any help?”

  “No.” She didn’t want him to see her vomit, if she wasn’t able to keep it down. “I’m fine. Just have to pee.” Again, not a lie, but still not the whole truth. One of the tenets of their relationship was honesty, but until she came to grips with this assault to her psyche, she intended to deal with this herself.

  Okay, not the smartest idea she’d ever had, but it was all she could come up with at the moment.

  In the bathroom, she turned on the exhaust fan to drown out any sounds she might make and raised the toilet seat. But after a dry heave or two, she realized she wasn’t going to throw up. She peed then went to the mirror to assess the damage. Dark circles under her eyes. More concealer would be needed today. She’d slept so little the past two nights. Thank God the weekend was here. She might be able to nap and catch up on her sleep. She also needed to finish Mari’s costume for Halloween. Perhaps if she kept busy and skipped naps, she’d sleep better tonight. Better meaning without dreams.

  But whenever she closed her eyes, the specter of Gentry waited in the darkness. Her vision blurred.

  Why can’t I have a normal life for me and my family?

  Savannah blinked away the tears, trying not to sniffle or blow her nose and tip Damián off that she was crying. Again. After washing her face with cold water and drying it, she returned to the bedroom. She needed a distraction. While the thought of having sex after that dream was abhorrent, she needed to make it up to Damián for the half-truths she’d just told him.

  Maybe if she offered to give him a blowjob, she’d relieve his stress and take her mind off the dream, too. They’d both end up satisfied.

  Savannah crawled between the sheets and reached out to him. Still erect. “Whatcha doin’, bebé?”

  “What does it look like? I might not be up for sex this morning, but Chico certainly seems to be.” She hadn’t suffered a low sex drive since before they’d married. Was it just stress about the upcoming trial? She hoped so, because making love with Damián gave her a lot of pleasure. Usually. Right now, though, she’d suffice with giving him pleasure.

  His eyes narrowed. “Chico?” She glanced away, and he stilled her hand. “Eyes.”

  With reluctance, unsure she could hide her feelings from him, she plastered a smile on her face and met his gaze. “I’m still half-asleep. I meant your cock. Please. Let me worship your cock, Sir.”

  He’d call her out again if she continued to slip back into old behaviors. A wordless diversion was necessary. Savannah resumed stroking his cock rhythmically, brushing her thumb against the notch until she felt precum on her hand. She swallowed down her initial revulsion. It had always been impossible for her to stay in the moment when she felt cum or precum on her hand, but she decided the best way to avoid that reaction was to use her mouth.

  Getting onto all fours, she went down on his penis.

  “Oh, yeah, bebé. So fucking good.”

  He took her head between his hands and guided it up and down on his rod. Interestingly, she didn’t trigger with his hands doing that. She loved it when he took charge of her during their lovemaking. Perhaps because she relinquished control to someone she trusted.

  Savannah opened her throat as he’d been training her to do. She gagged on the first few strokes, her eyes tearing up, but finally, he slid a few inches down her passage. She stopped moving and held him there until she had to pull back to breathe. While she hadn’t perfected deep-throating him, she was able to take him deeper than she ever had before. With pleasing him her foremost goal, she could tell by his moans she’d accomplished that.

  Heady stuff. She almost chuckled at the pun.

  Her hand reached back and stroked his thighs, and he spread his legs wider to give her better access to his balls. She cupped and gently squeezed them as she bobbed her head up and down on him making slurpy noises that never sounded all that sexy to her.

  “¡Madre de Dios! Muy caliente.”

  But it must work for her man. She could hear the excitement in his voice. Pleasing him this way was one small thing she could do to maintain a sense of intimacy in their relationship. As he began to raise and lower his hips in time to the rhythm he’d set with his hands, he once again hit the back of her throat.

  Savannah slowed her pace and relaxed her throat muscles, easing his penis down her throat as far as she dared. “¡Ay, güey! So good.”

  Guilty for making him wait made her keep him deep in her throat longer than she ever had before. She squeezed his balls, and his penis began to pulsate. “Don’t stop, bebé!”

  Tears poured from her eyes, ones she wouldn’t have to explain away at least, and Savannah gave in to the fear and sorrow she’d been trying to hold at bay while Damián’s hot cum spurted down her throat. As his climax abated, she pulled herself off him.

  “Wow! That was incredible. I think you’ve mastered deep throating, savita.”

  He wiped some cum from the corner of her mouth. “Now, it’s my turn. I want to eat your sweet pussy.”

  Blinking away the tears, she gave him a tremulous smile as he reached for the hand towel he kept on his nightstand. “No, I’m good.” She scrubbed at any lingering cum on her hands then wiped her mouth and any errant tears away.

  “You sure? It’s been a while since you’ve—”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I’m fine.”

  Damián stared at her a long moment then tugged her down to his shoulder. She tried to pull away, not ready for closeness right now, but his hand on the side of her head forced her to stay there. His heartbeat slowly decreased its rapid pace.

  After a few awkward moments, while she played idly with his nip, and he did the same with hers, he said, “Thank you for giving so much of yourself, querida. I wish you would let me touch you and give you an orgasm. It might help you relax. You’ve had one helluva week.”

  She shook her head. “Not tonight.” Everything was too raw tonight. “Just hold me.”

  “Sure you’re okay? That nightmare really seemed to rattle you.”

  “It’s over now.” God, she hoped it wouldn’t return when she closed her eyes. She needed to convince him, though. “I just gave my man some awesome head and am now cuddling with him in bed. What more could a girl want?”

  She couldn’t understand how her libido had shut down so suddenly the other day or what to do to rekindle an interest in sex, but for now, she was content to be cocooned in his arms with some semblance of safety.

  Chapter Six

  Halloween arrived too quickly for Damián, because fewer than six fucking weeks remained until the trial. Savannah grew more distant and withdrawn by the day. The strong front she tried to put on didn’t fool him for one minute. Whenever he asked her how she was doing, she’d give her old pat answer—‘I’m fine’—while she was anything but.

  That she refused to slow down at the clinic despite losing sleep to nightmares almost nightly now didn’t help. Then she’d insisted on making Marisol’s costume herself. Super Mom on steroids, but he needed to do something to make sure she was taking care of herself better.

  He hadn’t
had a chance to talk with Dad at dinner last week or any time since. Maybe once they finished trick-or-treating tonight. They were headed to his house now, after hitting every house Marisol could find with a porch light on in their University Hills neighborhood.

  Marisol sorted through her haul in the backseat while Savannah sat rigidly beside him with her head against the seat rest. Dad and Karla’s would definitely be their last stop tonight. He and Savannah needed to have a talk. While he’d seen her smile a few times tonight watching Marisol strut around the neighborhood in costume, she did so less and less frequently in the last week.

  Marisol was out of her seatbelt and halfway to the front door before Damián reached Savannah’s door to help her out. They trailed their daughter up the winding sidewalk.

  “Who’s this?” Karla asked, opening the door before Marisol could knock and coming out onto the porch. Damián had given them a heads-up they were on their way. “Why, it’s Mulan! All the way from China!” Karla executed a curtsy. “Your highness, please come in.”

  Marisol giggled. “It’s me, Grammy Karla. Marisol!”

  “Oh, my! I’ve never seen anyone look more like Mulan than the princess herself.”

  Karla asked Savannah and Damián, “Can you all come in for a little while?” She glanced up the driveway toward the street. “We don’t get many people stopping by out here, and it’s almost eight. Any stragglers can ring the bell if I don’t hear them drive or walk up.”

  Savannah nodded, and Damián wrapped his arm around her waist with a pat to the baby for good measure. He tried not to think about all she’d have to endure in the coming months. Not just the trial, but going through labor and delivery, too.

  Savannah’s mind seemed to have been off the trial somewhat tonight, but Damián continued to worry about how best to prepare her to take the witness stand in front of that cabrón without being sucked back into her past.