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Forever More

Page 20

by Rachel De Lune


  “Yes! Yes, Sir.”

  Seb thrusts into me and I continue to shout ‘yes’. He pulls back before thrusting again and stilling while he moves his hand down to find my clit. He rubs the pad of his thumb over my swollen flesh and I have to fight to stay still. I want to let go, but Seb has given me control over my submission. He’s finding ways to explore my sexuality within the comfort of my own rules.

  His slow rocks start to build a wave of pleasure within me, ready to crash over and pull me under. When we’re like this, I don’t want to do anything but give in to his pleasure.

  Seb’s pace quickens and my pants match in pace. He shifts position and lies down, smothering my body under his. I stare into his clear eyes and force mine to focus. Tears prick my eyes at the intimate connection.

  “You’re mine. If only in body and soul. Nothing will change that for me. You need to believe me. Trust me.” He emphasises his point by driving his cock deep into me, sending ripples of delight throughout my body. “Trust me. Trust us. I want all of you, Isabel. I’ll wait, but I want all of you. Mine to cherish. To love. To adore.”

  My orgasm sparks and Seb continues his rhythm, driving me higher and higher. “Yes, yes, Sir. Yes,” I scream as the wave finally hits. My body can’t hold it all in and spasms pulse through me. I thrust my body against Seb, forcing him deeper and harder inside of me. My arms and legs stay put, never breaking the imaginary silk. Seb’s hips piston back and forth, driving me to delirium with pleasure.

  “Fuck, Isabel. You still want more of my cock. Come. With. Me. Be. Mine.”

  “Yes!”

  We lie in a sweaty tangle of limbs as we both float back to earth. We’re both quiet, the only sound in the room that of our deep breathing. My body twitches as Seb finally moves off me, sending little shivers across my skin as the cooler air chills my flesh.

  He quickly pulls back the cover and we scoot under it, immediately seeking one another out.

  “I’ve been thinking about us, Izzy, about our future. If I proposed, would you say yes if you weren’t married?”

  What!

  “I don’t know… maybe.” My words are soft and betray the doubt in my mind. Marriage? The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, but clearly Seb’s been thinking about it. If I don’t want to get married again, will this be something else I won’t be able to do for him?

  I swallow down the tears that are strangling my throat. They burn and my eyes begin to blur. Seb’s arms come around me to offer the comfort they usually provide. Today, I don’t feel the reassurance or strength I’ve come to rely on.

  “Do you need more time?”

  “Yes… I love you, I love you so much. I hadn’t even considered marrying again. Look at what happened the first time, I failed, and breaking my vows… well, being married wouldn’t hold anything significant to me anymore. I’m sorry.” My answer is strained. My first marriage was meant to last forever. Now, Phil’s dragging out the divorce just to spite me.

  We sit in silence as the enormity of Seb’s question sinks in. I don’t know what I can say to him.

  “You remember that I’m away tomorrow for a few nights?”

  “No, I don’t want us to be apart. Do you have to go?” Panic courses through me. I sit up and face Seb.

  “Yes. I do.” He pulls away from me and heads to the bathroom.

  “Seb, I’m sorry.” He pauses in his steps but doesn’t look back.

  The last two days have been miserable.

  It’s like I’ve lost all confidence in my own ability to make a good decision. Seb’s been away, and even through our talks, I can hear the hurt he’s trying to hide from me.

  I keep talking myself around to being able to agree to marriage. I know it’s what Seb wants. I can give him what he wants by saying yes. I just can’t say that magic word.

  How can marriage mean anything if I can disregard it one moment and agree to forever the next? I rub my ring finger where my wedding bands used to be. I took them off for Seb. I broke my vows for Seb. He’s the one I love, but there is still so much for us to figure out.

  Seb is so sure, so confident, but I can’t even think about marrying him until I know that we’re on sturdier ground. I have too many insecurities and doubts. I need to believe it as much as he does. I can’t go through this again.

  On my way home. See you in a couple of hours. S

  Drive safe. Love Izzy

  I pull myself off the sofa and head for a shower. The last thing on earth I want to do is hurt Seb, but I need to try to make him see my point. As much as I love him, I need to consider if marriage is something I want in my future.

  Piling my hair on top of my head, I let the spray wash over me and hope it takes the tension with it. Things should be easy between us. I don’t want to fight. I want to get lost in our passion and shut out the world. I scrub and lotion before towelling off and heading right to bed. If Seb’s going to be a few hours, it will be past ten o’clock before he’s home. I pick up my iPad and make a nest, content with waiting up to see him. Despite knowing that he’ll want to talk and probably ask me if I have an answer, I can’t wait to feel his arms around me again. I miss the comfort they bring.

  “Izzy… Izzy, sweetheart.” Seb’s rich voice pulls me from sleep. “Hi, you don’t look particularly comfortable in bed.” I’m slumped at a jaunty angle, having fallen asleep.

  “No, I must have dozed off.”

  “Well, you’re awake now. Kiss me.” I reach up and grasp his neck, pulling him to me. Our lips collide and I let myself get swept away. The feeling is still there. The heat, the excitement, the love. Everything I want and need from Seb is there the moment we touch. The relief is palpable, but I need more.

  “I’m going to make love to you,” he murmurs against my lips.

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  The bed is empty when I wake. The alarm is blaring at me, but I’m holding out for five more minutes before I have to start the day.

  We didn’t talk last night. We made love. We poured all of our emotion into showing each other our love before falling asleep. Now, I need to face Seb and see how he’s dealing with all of this. I get dressed and head out to the kitchen. Seb’s back is to me. He’s cooking breakfast, so I stand and admire the view. His broad shoulders and back make a distracting sight for first thing in the morning.

  “I made you coffee. It’s on the side.” He doesn’t turn to face me, but clearly he knows I’m watching.

  “Thank you.” I take a seat at the table and continue to watch as he makes an omelette. He places it on a plate in front of me before turning back to his.

  I pick at the food, looking for the courage that I need to start any form of dialogue with him today. He joins me at the table and tucks into his breakfast. He hasn’t made eye contact and isn’t in a hurry to speak, either.

  “Please don’t do this. Don’t shut me out.”

  He puts down his fork and turns to face me. “I’m not shutting you out.”

  “Then why won’t you speak to me?”

  “I don’t want to upset you, so I was hoping we could just have breakfast.”

  My heart breaks at his words, understanding that he’s hurting as much as I am. I reach for his hand and squeeze it. “I’m sorry, Seb. I love you with everything I have, but I’m not ready, and I don’t think I will be anytime soon. You know how much marriage means to me and what Phil took from me. I’m not saying never. I’m saying I need more time.”

  “I’ll give you all the time you need, Izzy, but please start believing in our future. You need to start seeing things past your divorce.”

  Seb gets up from the table and leaves me to breakfast. Maybe he’s got a point. I have been putting so much faith in getting the divorce, assuming it will be this magical moment when I’m finally set free and able to move on. What if that’s not what I get?

  I grab my coffee and go back into the bedroom to get ready for work.

  The day drags but I manage to stay on top of my work. I’ve go
t to take one of the other team members through my training slides as she’ll be delivering any future presentations. It won’t take long, but it’s a reminder of how fate brought me and Seb together. Lucy is a bubbly girl who’s so keen to present, she’ll be a natural. She’s not as knowledgeable as some of the others, but she’ll deliver the content well. The one constant through all of the changes and trials has been work. I’ve been able to hold it together and actually prove that I’m better than I thought I was. I’m doing really well. Mark is giving me more clients to look after and we’re meeting next week to go over his vision and, hopefully, my promotion.

  I make my way down to the car and fire off a quick text to Seb to say I’m leaving. I dig through my bag to try to find my keys.

  A heavy weight slams into my back, knocking me against my car and holding me there.

  “You had to do it, didn’t you? I’ve just received my invitation to court. You’re divorcing me on grounds of my affair and you’re going to parade it through the court.” Phil sneers into my ear as he leans all his weight against me. My stomach rolls and my head starts to pound. I close my eyes and think about Seb. I struggle against his weight but he has me pinned.

  “You are simply dragging this out, Phil. You can’t refuse to divorce me. You’ve contested it. The court will decide now. Why don’t you just save us both the time and the money and stop this now.” My voice betrays the fear gripping my body.

  His weight lifts from my body and I take a much-needed breath before he twists me round. Pain flares across my cheek in a flash. I recoil from the force he uses, cradling my face from his assault.

  “Get in the car,” he growls at me, the pungent smell of stale alcohol on his breath. The point of a kitchen knife is levelled at my stomach. I look back to his face. Fury fills his eyes as he stares me down. I dig in my bag with shaking hands for my keys. As I fumble, I tap out a cry for help to Seb.

  Phil, help

  “Hurry up!” I find my keys and open the door. He shoves me down into the seat before rounding the car and sitting in next to me. “Now, drive home. We have some things to discuss.” He rips my bag from my lap and dumps it in the back seat before pressing the knife tip against my ribs.

  I fight the hysteria threatening to take hold of my body and will my arms and legs into action. My clammy hands grip the wheel and I set about driving back to Phil’s house. He watches me the entire time, but I refuse to glance his way. Seb knows I’m in trouble. Seb knows.

  The journey back to my old house is the longest of my life. Every time I try to look at Phil, he squeezes my neck with his fingers, keeping me looking at the road. The knife is a permanent pressure turning my stomach to lead. I contain the panic that has seized my body, the only outward sign, my trembling lip. My death grip of the steering wheel only lifts as Phil hauls me from the car. Painful fingers dig in to my neck as he forces me up the drive. He shoves me through the door and I stumble and fall to my knees. The pain in my cheek throbs in time with my quickening heartbeat. As I gather my senses, I hear Phil’s chuckle as he sets the latch on the door.

  That sound, that single little click clears my muddled mind. I will not let Phil tell me what to do. I had the courage to stand up to him once. I can do it again. Seb knows I’m in trouble. I pull myself up from the floor and turn to face Phil, but his palm connects with my face once again. The fiery sting scorches my already painful cheek and tears stream from my eyes. He moves to grab hold of me, but I try to duck out of his way, desperate to get to the door.

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” he shouts, reaching to grab me again and this time succeeding. The metal knife clangs on the wooded floor as Phil drops it.

  I lash out as be pulls me towards the stairs. My fists ball up and I try to punch and hit Phil, but my attempts do little to stop him. My legs thrash, kicking out and stomping. I feel some kicks make contact with his body, but to little effect. I claw and shout and scream in the struggle.

  “No! No! No!” I scream, fighting his intention of getting me upstairs.

  “You like it rough now, do you?”

  “No, Phil! Stop! Please don’t, you don’t have to do this…” my heartbeat is thrashing in my ears and my head is beginning to feel light and dizzy.

  “Just shut the fuck up!” Phil roars in my face. His fist slams into my face, pain erupting from the contact and dulling everything else around me. I slump into Phil’s hold as my vision blurs. All my strength evaporates and I fight to keep my eyes open, but they don’t get the message. Tears and swelling take their toll and my eyelids cast me into darkness.

  I come round, lying face down on what feels like a bed. I try to open my eyes but only one of them is cooperating. As the light and dark shapes come into focus I recognise my old bedroom. I move my arms to help me up but I can’t. They are bound behind my back.

  I move the rest of my body, trying to shift position, but my legs won’t budge either. I’m wide awake now; the fear has chased away my lingering haze. I’m lumped over the bed with each leg tied to the foot of the bed, anchoring me.

  “Awake, I see,” he barks. I start thrashing my body but it isn’t enough. His voice triggers the panic now swamping my system.

  Adrenaline and fear pump through my veins. I’m gasping for air. No, no, no. Please, no.

  “You wanted to be tied up, Izzy. I said I would. I said I’d do what you wanted, but noooo, not good enough. Well, you’re my fucking wife and I say how it’s going to be. Do you like this, Izzy, being at my mercy? Your legs spread for me—God, you haven’t done that for me in fucking years.” His cruel words ring in my ears and my tears soak into the bed. I’m helpless. I’m helpless and I can’t do anything to stop it.

  “Please, Phil. I don’t want this. Don’t. Don’t do this to me. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. Just no, please don’t…”

  “Oh, I know you’ll do anything. Anything I want. Bent over our bed, offering your cunt to me like the little slut you are.” He shoves my skirt further up my hips. “Never wore lace for me, Izzy, or stockings. Fuck me underwear. Well, you asked for it.”

  “No I’m not! Get off of me. Don’t. I fucking hate you.”

  I’m sobbing into the bed, my body shaking with fear. He’s really going to do it. He’s going to rape me. He rips my knickers from my body and gropes me, squeezing and smacking my bum.

  “Nooo, please, no.” My voice is panicked and desperate but it doesn’t stop him. His fingers drive into me viciously and I cry out at the intrusion.

  “What’s the matter, Izzy? Am I not doing it right? I thought you liked this?”

  “No. No, no, no. Stop! Stop it. Please, stop it. You’re hurting me!” My throat is raw from shouting. My lungs heave to pull in the needed air. “How could you? How could you, Phil?”

  “You ruined everything.” He plunges another finger inside me and I cry out at the pain. “I’m going to fuck your pretty cunt and spank your arse until you say you’re sorry.”

  “Don’t do this. Please, don’t.” I feel sick. My arms and legs are numb from where he’s tied me in the wrong position for too long. He slams his hand down on my bottom and red heat blazes across my skin. He smacks again and again, not holding anything back.

  “And to think if I’d just done this to you all those months ago, none of this would have happened.”

  Bile rises in my throat. The man I loved is physically abusing me. We loved each other once, right? Smack, smack, smack. My bottom is on fire and it’s overwhelming. My eyes are squeezed shut and I’m preparing for another blow. I try to zone out, to think of a happy place, warm and safe, but the pain throughout my body is stopping me from finding it. I wait for the bite of his hand on my skin, but it doesn’t come.

  “What the…?”

  “Isabel!” Seb. He’s here. “Get your hands off her.” His voice is like ice.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Move away from her now.”

  “She’s my wife, arsehole.” I can’t see what’s happening, so
I turn my head, and through my puffy eyes, I can make out Seb standing by the door, a murderous look trained on Phil. At Phil’s claim on me, Seb storms over to him and I hear clattering and banging. There’s the unmistakable thud of a punch and the sound of skin hitting bone.

  “You. Will. Never. Touch. Her. Again.” Each of Seb’s words is emphasised with a blow. My bleary vision still sees Seb’s fist connecting with Phil, punching him over and over again. Phil’s body goes limp as Seb drops him to the ground. He’s bent over his knees, breathing hard.

  “Fuck! Hold on, Izzy.” I feel soft hands around my ankles. “Hold on. I need to cut you out, sweetheart.”

  “Scissors. Bathroom.” He’s back in a moment and finally frees my legs, then my arms. I pull my legs together, sealing them, trying to protect myself. I finally sit up and wrap my arms around my knees. Seb has his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace. I’m still crying, I think. I don’t care. I look over the bed at Phil on the floor. He’s out cold and his face is banged up and bloody. “You… You knocked him out?”

  “He’s lucky I didn’t kill him. God, Izzy.” I feel a shiver run through both of us as he pulls me tighter. “Did he…” Seb pauses and tries again “Did he…” His words are soft and filled with sadness—so much so that he can’t get them out.

  “No. He just… touched me and hit me.” Saying it makes me feel sick. The acid in my stomach is churning and clawing at my throat, pain flaring in my sore backside. I start to panic again, sobbing and struggling to breathe.

  “Shh. Shh, Izzy. It’s alright. I’ve got you and nothing bad will happen again. You’re mine to protect and I’ll do anything and everything to do that.”

  “He hurt me.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I’m so, so sorry.” Although his words are kind, I can feel the tension keeping his body rigid.

  Garbled murmurings come from where Phil is on the floor. He’s obviously coming round.

 

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