Page 148 of Eternal

I want my husband to consume me. To mark me.

There’s no denying who I belong to as I cry out into the night, trying to hold back so I’m not screaming but failing when he angles my hips to thrust in deeper. My fingers grip the railing as he fucks me against it, and when I look down and see a man staring up at us from the street below, my core clenches.

“My girl likes putting on a show.” Declan reaches around my body and pinches my nipple. “The second you got caught, your pussy started crying for me. Dripping down your fucking thighs like the dirty girl you are. But I’m the only one who gets to feel your desperate cunt squeezing me, begging me for my cum.”

Declan pulls out, and the air rushes from my chest as he spins me around again. He lifts me up, carrying me back into the suite and throwing me back down on the bed. Stripping off his clothes, he climbs on top of me, holding my knees wide as he thrusts in.

“I want to be the only one who gets your pleasure tonight, wife. Let me see your face when you come on your husband’s cock.”

Declan kneels between my legs, thrusting in and holding me open. He watches with every smooth pump of his hips. Slowly, he pulls out until only the head of his dick is inside me, then he looks down and spits.

It drips over my pussy as he slowly moves back in. His hand drags down my thigh until his thumb meets my clit, and he moves in slow circles.

“Declan,” I moan, gripping his wrists. “I can’t come again.”

“You’ll come as many times as I want you to.” He pinches my clit, and sparks ignite through my body. “Isn’t that right? This perfect pussy wants to please me, doesn’t it?”

He pinches again, and I grip his cock so hard he grunts.

“That’s what I thought.” Declan picks up his pace, watching every little reaction.

I reach up to grip the metal rods on the headboard as he fucks me harder, and when one of my breasts spills free from the lacy bra, he toys with my nipple as well.

“It’s too much.” I tip my head back.

He’s bottoming out with every thrust. One thumb plays with my clit while the other toys with my nipple. It’s sensation overload, and yet, it clears all the clouds from my mind, and all I feel is him.

I look up into my husband’s eyes, and he smirks as our gazes meet. He plays my body like he has it memorized, and with a final flick of my nipple, my pussy tightens. I come so hard; tears drip down my cheeks.

“Stunning.” He climbs over me, fucking me deep and slow with his body pressed flush to mine.

Tears roll down from my lashes, and he lowers to lick them from the side of my face. His teeth graze my jaw, then he kisses me with the salty tang on his tongue.

White noise fills the room as my nails dig into his back.

My husband claims my body, and I see us, up in that church. I envision that moment we became whole for each other. When we became one in a way that can’t be broken. A bond that will never break.

He widens my legs, and I take every punishing thrust as he fills me with his cum. Until he lifts onto his elbows to look down at me, wiping a final tear.

“You’re so fucking perfect.”

“I’m a disaster.” I look down at the torn lingerie.

One of the bands at my hip has snapped, and while it’s pretty, I should have known it couldn’t survive my husband’s tastes.

Declan collapses beside me, pulling me into his arms while I clutch his body and catch my breath.

His arms are home when nothing has ever lived up to the word. We lie chest to chest, and I stare into my husband’s eyes, trusting him with my entire body and soul.

After I finally escaped my father’s control over my medical treatments, Declan helped me find a doctor who could help me.

It doesn’t make me perfect, but at least someone is fighting this battle with me, caring about my progress. She doesn’t drown me in pills and sedate me with misdiagnoses; she treats me.

My depression is real and a constant battle, but as I lace my fingers through Declan’s, I know I have something to fight for. I’m learning how to be here without the constant urge to escape, and I’m finding ways to cope with my anxiety.

Once I learned I had undiagnosed misophonia, I also found it easier to identify certain triggering sounds and situations, which has helped reduce my outbursts.

I’m still broken, but at least now I’m healing.

I’ll always battle my mind, but that’s not all I am. The people at my side want to lift me up, not make me hurt.

“What are you thinking?” Declan asks, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

“That I’m happy you’re mine.”

He kisses the corner of my mouth. “I’m the lucky one, Teal. From your heart to your body, you’re a work of art.”

“And you’re the work of the devil,” I tease, tipping my head back so he can kiss my throat. “But I love you.”

“I love you too, Tealene.” He kisses along my collarbone. “My wife. My masterpiece.”