Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
He pinches my nipple hard, but it hurts so good. I squeeze around him, tight as I can while I attack his mouth with my teeth, biting him, licking his lips, sucking on his tongue.
He comes. Explodes. He pulls my hair harder, roaring into my mouth as he trembles. He slams his palm against the headboard and growls.
“Fuck, yeah, Chloe. I fucking love you. I’m gonna give you everything, baby. Everything. Make you happy…” He kisses me. “Make you laugh, smile, make you wanna take care of me. But I won’t stop taking care of you while you do it, okay?”
I whimper.
“How the fuck do you feel this good, wife? I can’t fathom becoming less obsessed with you. I promise I’ll never forget how much I want you, how hard I’ve fought for you. If you love me back, I don’t even know how I’ll hack it. My fucking chest’ll explode with how it feels. Just you being here for me today, I can’t even tell you how much it helps. I’ve been twitching off and on for days, almost non-stop today, and you made it stop, baby.”
He cups my jaw tenderly. This feels so foreign and yet so real at the same moment. His hand slides down to the tie that’s loosely around my neck and he holds it, his other hand cupping me between my legs as he slides his fingers through the wetness, and then slaps between my legs. I jolt. He slaps me three times quickly and then circles it before using three fingers to penetrate me.
My back leaves the mattress and I whimper.
“I love watching my cum leak out of you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh. His voice is sweet, almost hypnotizing.
Despite everything, for some reason, my mouth splits into a smile.
“Oh, a gift for your husband, wife? A smile?”
A giggle escapes my mouth. Maybe I’m going a little crazy, too.
He lets go of the tie, laughing. And it’s a beautiful sight, one I don’t feel bad about taking in. It’s a sight I actually lap up for once. “But I need you to hold it all in, Chloe.” His fingers play in the mess, then he cups me firmly. “Because I want my seed to grow our baby inside you.”
I say nothing. What can I say? He’s had an emotional episode today that was huge for him. His mother died. The funeral had explosions. His mother’s coffin isn’t in the ground, it’s in a room downstairs because of the explosions. He’s just had some sort of partial breakthrough with his father. I don’t know what the next moments hold. I only know that this guy looking into my eyes right now, playing in the mess between my legs, yes, he needs psychiatric help. Definitely, he’s done some unforgivable things. But also… in some ways he’s kind of fucking magical.
“A baby for next summer sounds pretty fucking great,” he says. “Doesn’t it?”
I stretch, feeling languid from the ginormous orgasm. I don’t answer the ridiculous question, though.
Yeah, maybe he is crazy, but he sure does know how to make me come. A girl could get addicted to physical satisfaction on a daily basis.
I think back to Jeffy’s words in our last phone call, when he told me to ponder my power. How Derek himself pretty much just said the same thing to me. How Grace and Naomi also suggested it.
“Thought of any baby names?” he asks.
“You’re crazy,” I whisper. “I’m on the pill.”
“Kiss your crazy husband, good girl.”
I don’t move, so he does, and I melt as he kisses me, as he touches me, looking at me like I’m making all his dreams come true. I can’t fuck Derek into being mentally well, but can I ponder my power to find a way to help him find some semblance of wellness?
I get why he’s never wanted to trust another therapist. The trauma he went through as a child at the hands of a child psychologist was beyond extreme.
He never saw therapy do anything good for anybody in his life. He was surrounded by mental illness. The trauma of finding his mother unconscious and bleeding in the tub from self-inflicted wounds imprinted on him from a young age. Him wanting to look after me and solve all my problems is obviously related.
What would be the best way for him to get some help?
Yes, I need to ponder my power here some more.
But right now I can’t think anymore, because he’s lifting me, turning onto his back, and planting me on top of him. I look in his eyes, at the joy on his face as he gazes at me, looking at me like I’m the one and only woman in the world. Like he can’t get enough. Like he really, truly loves me. Like I’ve helped take the pain away.