74. Brynn
W e’ve sat here for hours, for what feels like all night.
Me and her. She keeps trying to start a conversation, but I’m too jumbled in my head to manage it.
In the end we sit in silence, reading while the clock ticks by every single second.
If this goes wrong, if this backfires on us, then I know the Esau will be here not long after. My father will come back. I think they’ll kill Liliana because they have no other use for her, but me, will my father hand me back to Xavier again?
I try to focus on the pages, on the words, but I’m too flustered to manage it.
I keep resting my hand on my stomach, wondering when this baby will start moving. Magnus and Liliana aren’t meant to know yet. That’s Conrad’s plan. To tell them I’m pregnant in a few weeks and then schedule a c-section when it’s time, so it looks like my baby came early.
But she keeps glancing at me, looking at where my hand is resting, and I know I’m not smart enough now to hide this.
I lift the board, thinking that maybe I can explain this, that I can make her believe that this baby is Conrad’s. Only, we both hear the sound of cars.
“They’re back,” I say, in that awful broken sound and Liliana nods like she understands it.
I roll the wheelchair and we both rush out to meet them. Clearly, Liliana is as anxious as me in this moment.
Magnus comes storming in, his face screwed up. He looks absolutely furious.
Conrad is just behind him. He glances at me for a second before focusing back on his brother.
With a roar, Magnus starts lashing out, smashing up what must be priceless antiques.
“Betrayed!” He hollers. “Fucking betrayed. First you and now him…”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Conrad retorts, getting right in his face.
“I brought you up, I brought you both up.” Magnus snarls. “I sacrificed for years, and this is how you repay me? You, marrying that child after I already arranged the perfect match…”
“She’s a Founder,” Conrad interjects, but Magnus clearly doesn’t hear a word of it.
“…And Devin, fucking Devin.”
“We can fix this.” Conrad states.
Magnus pushes him back. “Fix this? Fix this?” He turns around, grabbing Liliana by the throat, dragging her by it, “This bitch is the only one loyal to me, the only one I can truly trust.”
“Fuck you,” Conrad snaps back, “You could trust me, you just don’t want to.”
“She took a bullet for me,” Magnus continues, flailing his arms, waving her about like a rag doll. “You, you wouldn’t even cross the street to lend me a hand…”
“And we all know why that is, don’t we?” Conrad replies. “We all know who orchestrated that situation, who was the one pulling the trigger…”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Magnus snaps, yanking Liliana, pulling her away before they both stumble and land with his arms around her.
“You’re the only one,” Magnus says, holding her head so that it’s pressed to his. “The only one.”
I can see she’s petrified, that she’s physically shaking but she doesn’t shove him off, she just lets him manhandle her however he wants.
“Magnus,” She whispers.
“It’s okay,” He replies, stroking her cheek over and over. “It’s okay. I promised, didn’t I? I promised you…”
He wraps his arms around her, but it looks more like he’s entombing her, holding her prisoner and I guess in a way, that’s exactly what he’s doing.
“We’re done here,” Conrad mutters, walking up to me and taking the handle of my chair to push me along.
As we get to the door, he pauses, looking back with such an expression on his face. I can tell he wants to say something, to say what he’s thinking, but he just scowls and walks out instead.
Outside, there’s a car waiting. Conrad lifts me out, placing me in my seat and leaves the driver to pack the wheelchair up and put it in the boot.
He’s still so riled up. So angry.
I need to calm him down, I need to do something.
I unclasp my seat belt. I shift so that I pretty much fall into the footwell and he raises his eyebrows, watching me as if he thinks I’m about to do something that would warrant a punishment.
As I reach for his trousers, his jaw opens, just a little.
“You want to suck my cock, Doll?” He asks.
I nod back, holding his gaze. I know it’s the right call, the logical move.
It’s our thing now, it’s my way of pacifying him. Soothing his anger.
He undoes his belt, then his trousers, pulling himself out and he looks like he’s all ready to go.
I rub my lips together to get them moist. It’s not nearly as effective as my tongue would be, but what choice do I have now?
As I open my jaw, I make sure to cover my teeth, to ensure I don’t accidently catch him.
I suck him slowly. Now that my tongue is out of action I have to make up for it with my lips, by creating as much pressure as possible with my cheeks.
He groans as I work him the whole way down my throat.
With my hand, I fondle his balls. I’m learning now that he likes my touch, that he needs that, that it confirms to him that I’m a willing participant.
“Christ, Brynn,” He growls, and I can hear how his voice has changed. How that anger seems to be dissipating.
This is working, but I knew it would.
I take hold of the base of him, pumping him in and out of my mouth. He hits the back of my throat hard enough that my eyes water.
And again, I know he likes that too. I know he likes the tears, he likes to make me choke on him, so that’s what I do. I force him down as far as he can go, breathing through my nose.
I can smell him, I can smell the dirt and the sweat of him.
His fingers twist through my hair, and I make a noise deep in my throat.
“Filthy little doll,” He says, sliding further down in the seat, bucking his hips now as he starts to ride my mouth.
I blink back, holding his gaze, knowing that too turns him on. Yeah, he likes that, he likes that a lot judging from the smug look on his face.
“You want my come? ”He growls, “You want my come down your throat?”
I nod back, sucking harder. This position isn’t exactly comfortable, but I’ll also stay here all night, stay here as long as it takes to get him off, to make him happy.
He leans down, grabbing hold of the neckline of my dress and he rips it right down the middle, pulling it apart so my breasts are on display.
He fondles them lazily while I suck and moan.
“Put your fingers in your cunt,” He orders. “Put them in yourself, then bring them to my mouth.”
It’s hard to do that. Not the cunt bit, that’s easy enough, and we both know I’m wet but to reach up, to move with my useless legs… he grabs my arm, wrenching it up as he bends down to meet it. His tongue swirls around the digits, licking off my arousal.
“Fucking beautiful,” He says, though I don’t know if he means the taste of me, or how I look in this moment.
I guess it doesn’t really matter. Nothing matters now, only my husband. He matters. His wants, his needs, his pleasure.
Pleasure. Pleasure. Pleasure.
He groans again, he starts panting, and his hips become more merciless as he grinds against me.
His fingers dig into my scalp as he growls, pouring his salty, deliciously hot come down my throat before he slumps back into the leather.
I sit back, sink back into the tiny space, smiling up at him while I wipe the last of his taste from my lips.
He stares at me for a second like he can’t quite believe his luck and then he pulls me up, into his lap, and starts twisting his fingers around my nipple.
I arch my back as best I can, I throw my head back with such force it bangs against the glass.
“You’re such a good wife, now, aren’t you?” He says as his other hand buries itself in my pussy and he begins teasing out what I know will be the first of many orgasms.
That familiar desperate need thrums through my body, I reach up, teasing my breasts for his enjoyment and I nod.
I am a good wife. The perfect wife.
Because he fixed me. He made me into this. His perfect, little doll.
THE END