Page 14

Iopen the door and get in while Ryan comes in behind me. He locks the door and pockets the key. I’m seeing red the moment I find out what he’s doing. Is he seriously going to fucking lock me in like I’m in some kind of Disney movie?

I scoff and turn back to him in anger. I can feel my blood boiling at this point, but he just looks at me once with a stupid smile on his face. Like this is all just a joke to him.

“What?”

He asks me, delight filling his tone.

“You know what! Are you seriously locking me up?”

I sneer at him. He doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest and just hums, he fucking hums while walking away. Who does he think he is?

“I’m not fucking done here!”

I shout after him, grabbing my shoe and throwing it at his head. He ducks away, making the shoe hit the wall instead. Goddamnit!

“I am!”

he shouts back, slamming the kitchen door closed.

I take in a couple of deep breaths before I plan my next move. I need to be calm; I need to play this smart if I want to get out of here tonight. They said I shouldn’t wait too long to rebury her, and it’s already been two days.

I walk upstairs and start to rummage through the closet, looking for the best outfit to make my plan work like I need it to.

I need him to calm down a bit first because he'll just see it as suspicious if I do this too soon, so I’ll take my time getting ready for the next step.

I put on my favourite red lacy outfit that I think will be perfect and start to put my hair up in a high ponytail. He seems to like it when I put it up like that.

Once I’m done with that, I grab my makeup bag and perfume for the finishing touch and then wait a little bit longer, so at least an hour and a half has passed.

It’s getting darker and I really think I shouldn’t wait too long anymore. I can hear the TV playing downstairs, so he’s probably calm enough now.

I stand at the door opening, waiting for him to acknowledge me, but it seems that Fast the need is blinding and I can feel my release coming soon.

“Ryan, I—I’m coming,”

I moan out loud. He seems to be enjoying this as much as I am as he presses in a third finger, stretching and fucking me with them.

My muscles tighten and I ride out my orgasm on his fingers while he keeps sucking on my breast. I never even really had a guy get me off during sex alone before, unless I played with myself first. But this, I only ever read about this in books.

He releases my nipple with a loud pop and pulls his fingers out.

“See what you get when you are a good girl.”

I bite my lip in response. His mouth is like a holy relic, the things he does and says with it.

He lifts my hips up, pressing his member at my entrance.

“Do you want me to fill you up baby?”

he asks, voice rough.

“Yea—yes, please.”

He doesn’t wait long after my answer and pulls me down on him. His thick length is basically impaling me at this point, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. Yeah, rip me in half as long as you don’t stop.

“You take my cock so well, baby,”

he moans while I try to ride him. It’s almost impossible for me to move because of his size, and I think he notices it as he lifts me up and then pushes my chest against the couch pillows, taking me from behind. The noises I’m making are making me sound like I’m possessed or something. Well, technically I am, with his dick impaling me. And I am so not responsible for anything that’s coming out of my mouth.

I can hear him talking but I can’t for the life of me understand what it is he’s saying. All I can think about is how good he’s fucking me right now.

My ears are ringing and I can feel tingling all over my body. I don’t think I’ll last long. I can feel the muscles in my body tightening again and the sweat dripping down my back, my breathing is becoming more and more frantic, until I can’t keep it in anymore and I scream his name out as I come. He pumps himself a couple of times after, grunting out his release too.

The plan was to get the key and make him go into a deep sleep, but now all I want to do is sleep too. I guess the plan has been working a little too well.

“I’m glad you’re no longer mad at me,”

he says out of breath. I laugh and try to sit up, which is more of a task then I thought it would be.

Unsure what to answer him, I decided to settle o.

“I don’t want to keep fighting”

and hope he’ll just fall for it.

Am I still mad? Yeah, I am. He’s my husband, he's supposed to support me no matter what, and always have my back. But he isn’t doing that. Not right now.

Mara would’ve.

“Let’s take a shower and go to bed,”

I propose, trying not to sound as annoyed as I feel thinking back about all of this.

He’s still picking up his clothes and doesn’t respond immediately to my question, which is making me a little anxious. What if he realises I’m planning something? I am so close to getting her back, I won’t let him take her from me.

“Okay, are you tired already?”

Relief floods me with his question. I’m just being paranoid, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever lied to someone like this before, I mean some little white lies, but not lying to trick someone. I guess I became a whole new person after Mara died.

Grief can do weird things to people, and in my case it must have awakened something in me, something I didn’t think I was capable of.

"Yeah, I am. And I don’t want to sleep alone,”

I tell him innocently.

He nods and leans over, kissing my forehead.

I know that I’m doing something bad, but I don’t care anymore. Not when I can get her back by doing so.

Isn’t it funny how it's a man's fault she's gone, and now another one's fault I might never get her back again. And then some claim that women have it easy.

I’m tired of being told what I can’t and can do by a man, of having my life decided for me. I deserve more than that.

Husband or not, I am getting her back, and there’s nothing he can do to stop me.

All I need to do now is wait until he sleeps.