Page 59 of Perdition

To be with Em was to be blessed by the heavens.

And he’d forgotten that.

How could I forget that?

He was married to an exquisite, sensual goddess, and he’d taken her for granted.

He fucking loved every curve, valley, mark, and cock-hardening jiggle of his wife’s body. Adored it. Worshiped it. In all their years together, there’d never been another woman who could turn him on like she could. Sure, there were women like Sarah who’d tried and failed….

Did Sarah fail, though?

He hadn’t crossed the line with her, but he was smart enough to know that’s where it’d been heading before Em had forcefully “ectomied” his head from his ass by locking him out of his house,and tossing her property kutte like it meant nothing to belong to him. To belong to each other.

And she’d further shown him the error of his ways by cutting down their tree.

He still couldn’t wrap his mind nor his heart around that. Around the brutal finality of that action. What did it mean for her to, not just cut down, but also to intentionally dig up the roots, leaving nothing but the empty earth beneath a mound of cold, soulless dirt?

How could she have done something so devastating without a second thought?

You’re the one who told her it was just a fucking tree! You’re the one who made it seem like that tree, that place, those moments with her meant nothing.

So, she took you at your word, fucker!

The sounds of the bathroom shower turning off echoed through the achingly silent house, and he was immediately, once again, thinking of his naked wife.

Stepping out of the shower.

Wrapping a towel around her dripping wet body.

Fucking fuck!

He was starving for his wife, his mouth watering for her, to taste her, run his nose along her freshly washed skin and draw her scent into his body, press her back against the bed and ravage her mouth with his lips, while paying homage to her body with his trembling hands—but he couldn’t even put his hand on her shoulder without fearing she’d remove it for him.

This is your doing, asshole.

Fix it!

And he would…once she came out of the bedroom and they sat down to talk.

Yeah, he was being hopeful; hoping that she’d even let him sit down long enough to get a sentence out.

Be fair…at least she let you in the house.

True.

And…she’s giving you a chance, something you didn’t have yesterday.

True. Again.

His body and senses attuned to the house and woman in it, he immediately tensed at the sound of Emily screaming.

In a breath, he was running toward the master bedroom, pushing through the door, and coming to an abrupt stop at the sight of his wife, naked, glistening with water, pink fleshed, standing in the middle of the room.

She was leaning over, plump ass in the air, grasping her foot, and cursing under her breath.

“Goddamn frame!” she grumbled. “How many freaking times have I told him to?—”

“I’ll work on it later,” he said, his voice thick with thirst and hunger.