Deranged Marriage

Home > Fiction > Deranged Marriage > Page 40
Deranged Marriage Page 40

by Faith Bleasdale


  ‘Your eyes are the colour of wet slate,’ she said softly.

  ‘Ah, Catrin, it’s the Welsh in you. How many English women would know the colour of a decent piece of slate?’ His hand was on the tiny red buttons at the back of her dress.

  Catrin felt his fingers climb down them slowly, each in turn. She felt her red silk dress loosen until it slithered down around her waist. The heat from her body made her perfume drift up in a warm scent and she shivered.

  With gentle hands, William held her hair away from her face and began to kiss her. Catrin shut her eyes and felt his mouth move to her temples, eyelids, cheeks, lips; the warm moisture cooling on the places he had left. William’s mouth moved to her neck; he nuzzled the place where the blood throbbed through her artery, his warm breath stroked her skin moments before his lips rested on her throat and moved down to her chest, breasts, thorax, her navel.

  He put his hands underneath her bottom and lifted her up to ease off her dress. As she stood in her underwear, one eye on the door, she felt goose-bumps tingle on her skin as her kissed her abdomen, moved his warm mouth to her pubic hair underneath her panties, then to her thighs, and her knees, and down to her ankles, to her toes and their red nails, to the back of her knees, her bottom, the small of her back...He stood behind her and held her tightly, his arms folded across her.

  ‘Time for bed,’ he said, his warm breath in her ear. Catrin looked at the party poppers, the streamers, the bottles, the glasses, the end of the party.

  ‘I love you,’ William said, his mouth pressed against her ear.

  Catrin twisted her head to look at him, took his warm hand and kissed it, feeling it furl around her face. It smelled vaguely of his woody aftershave. She picked up her dress from the floor and blew out the candles. Their smoke swirled palely in the air.

  On their way to bed, dragging their clothes in one hand and holding hands with the other, William lifted up their joined hands and asked her how she’d cut herself.

  ‘There’s a magpie in the airing cupboard,’ she said, tossing her hair away from her face.

  Death in a controlled environment. On their towels. She smiled at his expression and squeezed his hand gently. ‘Just one. For sorrow,’ she said.

  To download the book and continue reading click here.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

 

 

 


‹ Prev