He doesn’t say a word before grabbing the blanket, throwing it off of me, yanking my panties down and pulling my dress over my head so fast that I don’t even realize what’s happening. His hardness is on my stomach as he lays down on me pulling me under him, positioning for entrance. He must not have been able to get himself off upstairs or couldn’t take it and is now just using me to release his orgasm.
He thrust into me rapidly and I’m dry so it hurts like hell at first, but as he moves it doesn’t take long for me to get wet. He continues to move at a rapid pace and I want him to slow down, I need to build, but he’s going too fast. I can feel how hard he is, knowing he’s on the brink of releasing and he will only satisfy himself. He takes what he wants and doesn’t give back. A few more thrust and a grunt escapes his mouth before he collapses on top of me. I turn my head in frustration, but he quickly is off me and walking away with nothing to say.
I jump up from the couch wishing I had something I could throw at his head, but even if I did I probably wouldn’t throw it. I pick up my clothes and stomp into one of the spare bathrooms that’s downstairs and slam the door behind me. Throwing my dress to the ground I turn the shower water on hot and stand in the mirror letting the bathroom steam up. I’m furious! My eyes are blood shot with anger. Every time I keep my damn mouth shut! I let him do and say whatever he pleases! It’s eating away at me. I love this man and he doesn’t even care. I give him all of me and it doesn’t make a difference. Tears fall down my cheeks and my hands are trembling to the point that I can’t keep it in anymore. All the years of being controlled by my father, the last two years of my husband, the man that is supposed to love me, abusing me and I can’t take it! I can’t take the hurt anymore. It’s slowly pulling me apart. Taking me to a dark place that I may never be able to come back from. Balling my fists peering at my scrawny delicate body in the mirror I slam my fist into the mirror with all my strength and the pain instantly shoots through my hand and up my arm causing me to collapse to the floor. The angers gone, replaced by panic and excruciating pain.
“SHIT!”
Grabbing the hand towel from the counter I wrap it around my bloody knuckles and look up to the mirror to see shards of glass spread out on the counter. Shit! Shit! Shit! What was I thinking? If he was mad at me before, now he’s going to be fucking pissed! I get up quickly grabbing the other hand towel and the garbage can, brushing the glass into it. Who knew little old me could actually break the mirror? Guess I didn’t anticipate this. After scooping the last bit of glass into the garbage, I look down at the towel wrapped around my hand and it’s soaked in blood. Fuck! I lock the bathroom door praying to god Travis didn’t hear anything and remove the towel from my hand examining it. It’s throbbing and there are several slices through my knuckles and hand from the glass. I move my fingers around, bending them and it doesn’t feel like anything is broken. I toss the bloody towel in the garbage and grab two more from the linen closet in the corner of the bathroom as well as grab myself a towel. Placing the hand towels on the counter and hanging the large towel up, I jump in the shower, at first keeping my hand from the water.
The hot water stings my back but I adjust it. I tilt my head back letting the liquid run down me and then slowly bring my throbbing hand under the water. I wince at the pain as the bloods washing down my arm. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?! He’s going kill me!
Chapter Eight
I had wrapped my hand in a bandage we had in the medicine cabinet and locked the bathroom door when I left hoping like hell he doesn’t get the urge to use that bathroom. I’m going have to get the maintenance guy to bring in a new mirror tomorrow for the bathroom. I took a few Ibuprofens for the throbbing pain in my hand and peeked in our bedroom to confirm that Travis is knocked out, so I’ve decided to jump on the computer. Check if Zoey ever emailed me back. Keeping my hurting hand in my lap, using it to a minimum, I turn on the desktop computer. I hate checking this when Travis is home, but I know he drank a lot which means he won’t wake up till morning. I open up my email seeing two new messages. I click on the first one and read down.
Steph!
Where were you today? I looked everywhere and even went to the fountains thinking you were there. I hope you’re alright? Let me know what’s going on and we’ll plan to meet up over the next few days… email me what day and time works for you to go to the market and I’ll be there!
Love you Steph and hope you’re okay.
Zoey
I sigh at how sweet and concerned she always is. The one friend that cares and I’m not allowed to see her. I click back to the other email that shows unread. I’m not sure whose email it’s from so I open it and am instantly intrigued.
Stephanie,
It was amazing seeing you today. I’m sorry that we couldn’t have spent more time together. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to be able to see you again and it didn’t go as I’d planned at all. Sorry if I hurt your feelings in any way and for bringing up shit that happened ten years ago. It’s not fair to you. I know your life wasn’t easy. I need to talk to you, to see you. Can we meet sooner than later? Monday perhaps? Coffee or breakfast, whatever you want. Please let me know.
Love always,
Eric Sutherland
A smile plastered on my face, I don’t even notice the pain in my hand because all I can think about is him. How he touched me today like I belonged to him. No matter how many years I spent pushing back these emotions, the instant I saw him they all leaped to the surface. There’s nothing I want more than to see him. With my one hand I type back.
Eric,
I would like that. Monday works for me. I can meet you at the same coffee shop at ten. I didn’t mean to be emotional it’s just been so long.
I’ve missed you.
Stephanie
Before I get the chance to delete the email I hit send, instantly regretting adding the missing him part. Nothing will ever be between us, never can be. I’m married to Travis, but I don’t see why Eric and I can’t be friends. I mean Travis definitely can’t find out, but I think I can do this. Hang out with Eric occasionally just to keep our friendship going. I do miss him. I miss talking to him, him comforting me and most of all his lips. Ugh! I can’t let it go there though. I won’t let it. Friends….just friends. I feel like a teenager again, getting all giddy over the cute boy in school.
I wait patiently looking at the screen expecting an email back, but then realizing its eleven o’clock at night and he’s probably sleeping. I move the mouse to click log off when a new email pops up from the same person that I now identify as Eric. I double click it opening it up.
Steph,
Great! I’ll be there. I can’t wait to see you. I miss you too… I’ve missed you for ten years. Get some sleep and I will see you on Monday.
Love
Eric
I sigh as I log out of the email account then delete the history before closing down the computer. Still wrapped in my towel from the shower I go upstairs and quietly crawl under the blanket with Travis. The snoring is killing me, but if he wakes up and I’m not up here he’ll be furious. So I do my best to drown him out and fall asleep dreaming of Eric.
***
Eric
As soon as I got home from training I sent that email to her. I know it’s ridiculous, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her since this afternoon. It’s been driving me crazy. I had a hard time working out and my trainer, Marcus, was pissed. I don’t even care though because as soon as I hit send on that email my heart starts pumping in anticipation of her response. I leave the computer briefly grabbing myself a beer before sitting back down in front of the screen. Ten o’clock. She’s probably sleeping, but I don’t know that I can go to bed until I get a response from her. I pass time searching the internet, playing online games and just when I’m about to give up the “new email” message pops up on my screen. I click over reading her response. I squirm in my seat as I read the words “missed you”. She has no idea. I qu
ickly type back wishing so much that I could hear her voice instead, but I’ll take anything right now just to have some sort of connection with her. I hit send on the message and then close down my laptop. The house is quiet and lonely. I would give anything to have her here with me right now. She’s married dumb ass!
Anger fills my veins at the thought of some other man with his hands on her. I know it’s her husband, but by her little comment today I already get the impression he’s an asshole. I swear to god if he ever hurt her I’d kill him! I know it’s ridiculous, but my love for her has never faded, it’s only been pushed down in order to save my sanity. I’ve always loved her and over the last ten years she’s never left my thoughts. I drink the last bit of my beer before heading to my room. My place isn’t large, but it’s too big for me when I live by myself. Three bedroom and two bath condo is more than I need. The thought of Steph being here with me has me hard. The day I took her virginity was the best day of my life. I wasn’t very experienced, but looking back I have to say it went really well for only being seventeen. Oh, the things I would do to her now. I remove my shorts, lying in only my boxers and crawl into bed. It’s been too long since I’ve been with a woman and seeing Stephanie today had all kinds of emotions running through me and hormones spiking.
Those innocent brown eyes had me wanting to cradle her in my arms; they looked up at me with so much history for a woman who is so young. I imagine running my tongue up those long caramel legs until I reach her sweet spot. I easily remember what she tastes like. I could never forget. I harden even more imagining the sweet pussy in my mouth and my dick presses against my boxers. I roll over trying to forget that night so I can get some sleep. Exhaustion takes over and it doesn’t take long before I’m dreaming of Stephanie lying on my bed with her long auburn hair spread out on my comforter.
Chapter Nine
“What the hell happened?!” Travis yells from over the top of me and I struggle against the light coming in from the window to open my eyes.
“Huh?”
“What the fuck happened to your hand?”
Immediately I come to consciousness and sit up in the bed looking down at my right hand seeing that there are specks of blood that seeped through the bandage. The throbbing pain instantly hits me and I hold my arm to my stomach. Quickly I try to come up with an answer because if he finds out I punched the mirror I don’t know what he’ll do.
“I um… fell after you went to bed last night.”
“Where?”
“I was walking upstairs and tripped on one of the steps and my hand hit the railing in an awkward position and it cut me. There was only a little blood. I’ll be fine.” I want to kick myself for the World’s most stupid excuse.
“Jesus Christ, Stephanie, you’re a fucking klutz! Can you please try to be careful so you don’t end up killing yourself?” he groans as he walks out the bedroom door slamming it behind him.
I shiver under the blanket from his coldness. He’s mad that I got hurt even though I told him it was an accident. I can’t image how he would react if he knew what I really did. I hate lying to him, but it’s the only way to survive this marriage. That’s if you can call it survival. God, I hope his mood turns around today. I need one good day or at least a day without him getting all pissed off. I jump out of bed going into the bathroom and remove my bandages. My hand is still extremely swollen, but I can move my hand and fingers fine, so I’m pretty sure it’s okay. I jump in the shower just to rinse off and clean my hand.
Grabbing new bandages from the medicine cabinet I clean it with some peroxide and then re-wrap it. I don’t want Travis to see how bad it really looks. I throw on a pair of jean shorts and a grey tank before going downstairs, but before I even make it to the bottom step I hear Travis yelling from the direction of the bathroom I was in last night and I stop in my tracks; frozen as the fear rushes through me and my heart pounds against my chest.
“What the hell happened?! Stephanie!” his voice roars from the other room and I can’t move. I can’t speak.
“Stephanie!” I hear him call again and then his loud foot steps are coming down the hall as they round through the living room and then I watch as he walks into the entrance way staring at me and his eyes burn into me causing me to fall to the step. I sit down clutching the handrail unsure of what to do.
“Do you not fucking hear me screaming for you? What the fuck happened to the bathroom mirror and why was the door locked?”
The look in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen. I’ve never rebelled against him, never shown how angry he makes me. I bottle it up, keeping it to myself. Now I’m faced with that stranger that terrifies me and usually he’s drunk, but not now. Right now this is all Travis, no alcohol for an excuse of his behavior.
“You fucking bitch! You better answer me! NOW!” he hollers and my whole body trembles in reaction to his fierce voice.
I close my eyes as he marches up to me pulling me up by my arm, only inches from my face.
“Tell me what happened!” he grits through his teeth and I open my eyes, tears stream down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper and before I know it I’m down on the ground against the stairs with my face throbbing. I grab my cheek as I realize Travis, my husband, just punched me. Shock and disbelief runs through me. He’s never hit me! I can’t even look at him.
“TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!” he screams as he towers over me.
“I punched the mirror in anger. I was mad at you,” I barely get out through heavy sobs.
“Mad? Mad? You don’t fucking know mad? I can’t believe you would pull some shit like that and then lie to my face! What else are you fucking lying about you fucking cunt?!” Still towering over me he runs his hands through his mangled hair and he reminds me of a wild animal ready to attack its prey.
“Nothing, Travis. Nothing. Please don’t hurt me,” I whimper as I crawl up the stairs backwards still holding my cheek with my bandaged hand. “I was upset with how you treated me last night. I hit the mirror. That’s all. Nothing else, Travis. I’m going have it fixed today. Please, it’s nothing.”
He walks up the first few steps and leans down placing a hand on a step right next to my head and he comes into me, whispering in my ear, “it’s everything and what you do has consequences, Stephanie. You will get the mirror fixed and you will never do something like that again or what I do to you will be much worse.” He pushes off the step as he grabs his jacket by the front door slipping on his shoes and leaves. Leaves me there hurting not only from him hitting me, but from his cruel words. This is the worst he’s ever been. I fucked up. I fucked up big time. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I have to fix this.
I get up from the stairs still holding my cheek as it burns and throbs. I grab two ice packs from the kitchen and take myself back to bed, placing one bag on my face and the other on my hand. I lay here thinking of what I can do for him when he gets back to show him I love him. My life is not right when he is angry with me and I know I’m the only one who can make it better.
***
I wake up feeling like shit as I look at the clock on our wall. Eleven thirty five. I’ve been sleeping for a few hours and feel worse. My face feels ten times the normal size and my hand is still throbbing and the cuts are burning. I crawl out of our bed knowing I’ve got to pull myself together. I’m going to make it up to Travis. Carefully I pull my hair into a ponytail doing my best not to hurt my hand worse and take a look in the mirror. My check bone is huge and already turning blue. I sigh because there’s nothing I can do about it. Removing my shorts and tank top I grab some stockings from my drawer as well as a lace teddy. In the bathroom I apply heavy makeup in an effort to cover up the discoloration and swelling, but it doesn’t work too well. Throwing on some black stilettos I walk downstairs in hopes that Travis is back. No one else should be in the house just yet as the Chef isn’t due for a few more hours and the housekeepers should be done.
I walk around to the back door that l
eads out to the pool after searching downstairs and not finding him. The sun is shining through the glass doors and it feels wonderful on my skin. I open the French doors and spot Travis lounging on one of the chairs. As I walk over to him my heels click against the wood deck and he turns his head catching sight of me. He doesn’t smile though, doesn’t move, just watches me as I walk towards him. My bandaged hand is still hurting, but I ignore it stopping in front of him and he looks up at me. Finally a small smirk reaches his lips as he admires my provocative outfit. I straddle the chair sitting down on his lap wrapping my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his dark hair.
“You have no idea how sorry I am Travis. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I love you. Please let me make it up to you.”
His eyebrow lifts questionably, “and what do you propose to do?”
“I want to show you how much you mean to me.”
He doesn’t say anything so I climb off his lap moving down to his belly, trailing kisses down as I go. His hands remain to his side not touching me and I know he’s still unsure, but I need him to forgive me. I kiss his stomach at the top of his swim shorts and tug at them with my good hand looking up to meet his gaze, silently requesting him to lift his hips and he does in response. I pull them down completely removing the shorts and exposing him, he’s already hard. It’s firm against his abs and instinctively I rub my small fingers along his muscles moving down until I reach him. Keeping my hurt hand down to the side to keep him from paying too much attention to it. Wrapping my hand around his hardness I move my head in and take him in my mouth. Slowly at first, licking and sucking, making it as wet as possible with my saliva before removing my grip and taking him all the way in until it reaches the back of my throat. I move up and down repeatedly, tasting every bit of him, which currently is mixed with him and chlorine from the pool. After a few more times of moving up and down slowly, every time allowing him to reach the back of my throat before I move back up, he finally grabs my hair and I moan as he guides my head, pulling on my hair. This is what I needed. I needed him to want me. I need him to need me.
Evil Of Love Page 7