The Husband Beside Me(27)

He pounded harder as though trying to make me understand his ownership of me. I moved my hips seeking my release. I felt utterly ravished as he feverishly fucked me. I could feel his cock swell. He was close. I hungrily sought out more. I needed more.

“My Addie,” he bit out, and with those two words, my orgasm came barreling down. My body shook to its very core. Daimon kept pushing forward as he came inside me. With one last thrust, he cried out.

Standing against the wall breathless, Daimon slowly released me, as I found my footing, trying to regain my breathing. I could feel his hot cum slowly slide down my leg.

“What just happened?” I asked, more to myself than Daimon.

“Addie,” Daimon said as he sought out my face.

“No,” I said, feeling more of his warm cum seeping out of me. I moved away from him to get to the bathroom, but he seized my hand and pulled me back. He then placed his hands on either side of my face and made me look at him.

“I’m a greedy man, Addie. Once I have what I want, I want more of it and you are what I want. My need for you is a lot greater than you know.” His deep voice reverberated inside me as I stood, thoroughly fucked by Daimon. I tried to move my face but he held on.

“Haven’t you realized it yet? You don’t hesitate anymore. You want my touch. You want this, so why can’t you just let it happen?” he bit out.

“Because I hate you,” I snapped. “I hate how much you pull me into your world. I hate how much I seek it out!” I cried out.

“Is it that bad? Being pulled in by me? Why can’t you just let it happen? Why do you need to fight what’s between us?” he asked roughly.

“Because I can’t!” I fired back.

“Why?” he demanded.

“Because I’m scared. I’m scared of you, of me, of us,” I shouted.

Daimon finally released me from his hold. I pulled down my skirt and headed to the bathroom. I closed the door, wanting to sever what was happening between us.

Once I took my shower and washed off all of Daimon, I reemerged into the bedroom. Daimon was nowhere to be found, but I could hear his violin as he played. It was like the night before, broken and melancholy. I opened the door to the bedroom and slid down the wall. I sat on the floor, taking in all that was Daimon.





Wounds


“If you say sorry now, I’ll forgive you,” Daimon said at breakfast.

“What? Why would I ask for forgiveness?” I asked, confused.

“Just fucking do it and don't ask why,” he demanded.

“No!”

“You promised you wouldn’t see Darren and you went, and by the way, you dressed up for him too. If that was your way of letting him down, you didn’t,” he said angrily. “So just apologize and I will forget the whole thing.”



We woke up the next morning, acting as if the previous night hadn’t happened.



“I didn’t promise. Actually, I told you I was going, so I don’t get why I have to say sorry.” I put my fork down.

Daimon had now hired an older lady to cook for us and clean. I didn’t know until I came down the stairs and saw her there in the kitchen.

“By the way, next time you invite someone here, can you inform me?” I hissed.

“I hired her to cook and clean, since you do nothing,” he barked.

“It’s been six days. I’m still on the honeymoon stage,” I jabbed back. He wanted me to cook, no problem. “Don’t worry, Daimon, when you come home tonight, I’ll make sure you have a nice home-cooked meal,” I smirked.

“Ana! Make sure she doesn’t try to kill me by putting poison in my food,” he yelled out to our Spanish lady.

“You would be so lucky, but no, Daimon, I want you here with me so I can torture your ass,” I threatened with a smile.

“I know you want me. It’s only a matter of time,” he said as he stood up and winked at me. Son of a bitch, I walked into that one.



A month had gone by since that night. It was late in December, close to Christmas. I was sitting on the floor at my father’s heavily decorated house, watching yet another of his spaghetti westerns, The Great Silence. God, he loved them so much. He’d watched them continuously when he got home from going out and reconnecting with his old friends.

My dad didn’t take it well when Daimon told him he’d paid off the house for me. It was on one of the family nights he was contractually forced to do with me. I knew Daimon thought he was helping me, but he honestly wasn’t. My father grew irate and started to speak in Greek, telling me he wasn’t a charity case. He even told me he didn’t want to see Daimon for a while, which Daimon was all too happy to comply.