20. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Savannah
D eclan looks at me like I’m the most precious thing in his world as he lines his hard cock up with my entrance and pushes inside of me. He’s huge and there’s a bit of pain and burning, but he stops, holding still, allowing me to adjust.
“Baby girl, are you doing okay?”
“That was the biggest orgasm I’ve ever had and the only one given to me by a man, ever. Derek never—”
Declan is staring into my eyes stoically. His jaw clenches and nose flares as his eyes squint. “Savannah, never fucking mention that motherfucker’s name while I’m inside of you.” Moving his hand to wrap around my throat, he issues a promise that has me shuddering. “I’ll fuck his or any other man’s name right out of your mouth.”
He pulls back and thrusts fully inside of me, and I feel myself stretching and feeling even fuller than before.
A gush of wetness leaks out of my stuffed pussy that’s now stretched around his thick cock. I didn’t want to admit it before, but his possessiveness is a turn on for me. The fact that Derek let his friends touch me makes me grateful that Declan won’t let anyone else even look at me for too long. It makes me feel precious and cherished.
“Eyes on me, Vannah. I want you to know who is fucking you. Who does this pussy belong to?”
Just him asking that sends a rush of wetness out of me.
“Keep your eyes locked on me, Vannah. I want you to remember whose pleasure you’re experiencing. Whose dick is fucking you? Who does this pussy belong to?”
The sensation is pure ecstasy. I’ve never felt anything like this before. A pulling starts low in my abdomen. His filthy talk, while he’s fucking me, ignites my desire and makes me even wetter.
With each passing second, his hand around my throat tightens, causing me to gasp for air. He grunts out, his voice demanding an answer from me, “Who does this pussy belong to?”
My throbbing and pulsating pussy tightly grip Declan’s hard, thrusting cock. It slides out almost to the tip before forcefully plunging back inside me, intensifying our pleasure. The sound of the wetness and our skin slapping make us both fuck each other harder. I’ve never been an active participant during sex before, but my body is arching and thrusting toward Declan, and I have no control over it. The pleasure is so intense, and my body is so engulfed in it, that it moves by its own volition.
Again, he asks, “Who do you belong to, Savannah? I want your words, or I won’t let you come.”
“You,” I shout. “You, Declan. Only you.”
“Good girl, baby. You’re my good girl, taking all of this cock, and your thirsty little pussy is going to drink all of my cum,” he praises.
When he says I’m his good girl, I love it. I’ve never been partial to praise before, but then again, Derek never praised me for anything.
The tension in my lower body has climbed, and just as Declan delivers a particularly forceful thrust, I start to unravel. It’s like a damn bursting. A sound I’ve never heard before escapes my mouth.
With each hard thrust, he says something else dirtier than the last.
“Baby girl, I’m going to fill this pussy up with my cum and you’re going to suck every bit up into your womb and give me a baby. I’m going to fuck you over and over until you give me a litter of them. Cum is going to drip down your thighs all day every day, for the rest of our lives”
Declan’s body goes stiff, and his face looks pained as he emits a loud groan. Instantly, I feel spurts of warm cum squirting onto the walls inside me.
We are both panting as he rolls off me and pulls me into his arms, kissing me on the forehead. He looks like he’s in a daze, as if he is inside of his head. Laying still and silent other than the sound of our heavy breathing, the sweat cooling our overheated bodies, feeling like wet noodles, neither of us look at one another.
Something finally occurs to me and sends me into a panic. “Oh my God, we didn’t use a condom. Declan, we need Plan B. I’m not on birth control.”
As my body trembles, I’m surprised when Declan doesn’t fall into a panic along with me. He doesn’t even flinch.
Turning to me and running his hands along my naked body, Declan finally responds, “I can’t wait to see you with a round belly and milk leaking from these gorgeous tits. It makes my mouth water and dick hard just thinking about taking a taste of that sweet milk.”
“I’m serious, Declan. I’m not on birth control. We should have used a condom,” I plea.
“No, there won’t ever be anything between us, especially a piece of latex,” Declan growls out.
“Are you out of your mind? Can you even understand the sheer terror I felt as I struggled to escape from Derek’s clutches, holding Kenzi tightly in my arms? Every step I took, the weight of the world on my shoulders, trying to keep her clothed and fed amidst the constant turmoil. I can’t endure that nightmare again.”
Struggling to get out of his embrace, my heart is racing. Why isn’t he as terrified as I am?
“Good. I want you to be pregnant. Kenzi is going to be the best big sister. And, baby, you never have to worry about going through anything like that as long as I am breathing.”
He holds me tighter while petting my hair in a soothing motion.
“There won’t be condoms, Plan B, or birth control. Savannah, you are such a fantastic mom to Kenzi. We are going to have as many kids as you will allow.”
“That’s the thing, Dec, I’m not going to allow it, period! You’re talking crazy. I’ve heard of dickmatized, but you are pussymatized,” I yell out, injecting a bit of sass.
A low chuckle comes from Declan as his chest and stomach begin to shake. “That’s hilarious, babe. I think you mean pussywhipped.”
“No, pussywhipped means you would do as I tell you. Pussymatized means you are hypnotized by my pussy.” I am hit with the realization that this conversation is ridiculous, and I have to shake my head to clear my mind.
Declan is laughing so hard his eyes are wet with tears. Stunned, I stare, not knowing what else to do.
As he runs his hands down my body again, he stops, and I know exactly what caused him to pause. My cheeks burn with shame.
“Baby girl, look at me.” He lifts my chin until our eyes meet. “What am I feeling?”
As I whisper my response, I feel a rush of emotions flooding through me, making my heart race and my palms sweat. The look of confusion on his face only intensifies my feelings.
“I have many scars,” I repeat, my voice barely audible. I gaze into his eyes, searching for understanding.
There’s a mix of tenderness, as his touch lifts my chin and brings us eye to eye. For a beat, I feel exposed, vulnerable to his scrutiny, then, it quickly morphs into a fluttering sensation in my stomach, a combination of nervousness and excitement, as if a thousand butterflies have taken flight within me.
There’s also a sense of longing, an ache deep within my chest to get closer to him. I can almost taste the bittersweet longing on my lips.
But amidst all the overwhelming emotions, there’s also a flicker of fear. Fear of rejection, fear of losing what we have, and fear of the unknown. It’s a delicate balance. Waiting for Declan to find out something about my past that finally pushes him away. The straw that breaks the camel’s back, so to speak. What will make him decide I’m not worth all the drama and trouble?
As I continue to gaze into his eyes, hoping that he understands the magnitude of my emotions, I realize that it’s impossible to put into words everything that I’m feeling. All I can do now is hold on and hope that Declan is as obsessed with me as he says, because I don’t know if I can survive losing him.
With a gentle pull, Declan brings me closer, his lips leaving a soft kiss on my forehead once more. “Let’s go to sleep for now, baby girl,” he says, his words filled with a heartfelt promise to make everything right. “You won’t ever have to worry again.”
Resting my head on his chest, I hear the steady thumping of his heart and feel my heavy eyelids start to droop.
I’ve done something bad again. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of anger and betrayal coursing through my veins. Derek has just returned home with lipstick on his collar and smells of cheap perfume. He stumbles into the house drunk. I try to hide, but eventually he finds me. When he sees me, he comes up and tries to kiss me while holding onto my hips. With the overpowering smell of stale cigarettes and sex permeating my nose, I can’t help but to wrinkle it in disgust. The weight of the situation presses heavily on me, making it difficult to breathe. My stomach churns with a sickening combination of disgust and disappointment as I struggle to maintain composure. I wish he’d just stayed overnight with the women he slept with. How dare he have the audacity to touch me with their stench on him?
Feeling his hard cock hitting me in the stomach as he presses his body close to mine, I quickly turn my face, which makes him miss my mouth and land the kiss on my cheek. Derek’s touch, once comforting and familiar, now feels invasive and repulsive. In this moment, I just feel violated. My skin crawls as I try to distance myself from him, but he pulls me closer.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, frigid cunt? Can’t I kiss my wife when I want to?” His words are slurred, and I can barely understand them. The once-endearing term of affection now drips with contempt, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Tears well up in my eyes, threatening to spill over, but I try to hold them at bay. It’s always worse when I cry.
Derek stumbles a bit and almost loses his balance. The weight of his drunken body leaning against mine only intensifies the feeling of being trapped. As my heart pounds, my palms begin to sweat. “You are a fucking waste of skin and should feel lucky that I took pity on you and married you,” he rants. His voice getting louder, as if him being drunk is my fault. The cruelty in his voice causes me to flinch and if it wasn’t for him standing up against me and holding my hips so tightly, he would tumble onto the floor. His fingers dig into my hips so there will definitely be bruises left behind. The smell of alcohol on his breath hits me in the face, mixed with the other repugnant smells he brings with him. It leaves me nauseated.
“Derek, stop.” My voice quivers with fear and anger. Unable to get away from him and knowing he’s going to escalate to unbearable violence, I try to reason with him. Finally, the rage boils over.
Unable to restrain myself, bitter words fly out of my mouth. “No, you don’t fucking come home smelling like another woman and get to put your dirty hands on me. Look at the fucking lipstick on the collar of your shirt, asshole.” I know when he gets like this that I should keep my mouth shut, but my anger and disgust win out. I try to step back out of his reach, but he pulls his arm back and slaps me across the face hard enough to knock me onto the floor. The sound echoes through the room and a stinging sensation flares on my cheek. Reaching up, I put my hand over my burning cheek. He struck me so hard that I hear a buzzing sound in that ear, and I hit the floor with a thump. The pain and throbbing in my back and ass are exacerbated by the fear of not knowing what he’s going to do next.
He grabs a handful of my hair and jerks my head back hard enough that my neck feels like it’s sprained, and my scalp is on fire. “You don’t fucking get to tell me no. You are to cook my meals, clean my house, and keep me happy. If that means sucking my dick with another woman’s lipstick on it, then you fucking get on your knees and start sucking, you dumb bitch.”
A splash of warm spit spatters onto my face. It’s not the first time he’s spit on me.
Still holding me by my hair so I can’t move, he draws back his hand, but this time he closes his fist and takes a swing that lands on the side of my face, splitting my cheek open.
The exploding pain that throbs in my head and face is almost unbearable. The impact of his punch to the side of my face has blurred my vision. Unable to see clearly, I try to focus the best that I can.
“Please, Derek, stop. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
As I cower, trying to pull my hair free from his hands, he turns and starts dragging me towards our bedroom.” I beg and cry because I know that whatever is coming is going to be bad. My heart pounds in my chest, the adrenaline rushes through my veins making the pain even worse and it’s even harder to breathe.
“You are going to pay for being such a fucking useless cunt. I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget. I’m doing you a favor as your husband by correcting your shitty behavior.” Bringing his face to mine, he speaks again, “Tell me, thank you for correcting you and helping you become a better wife, Savannah.” When I don’t automatically answer, he screams in my face, “Now, fucking tell me thank you! ”
The room seems to close in on me, and my body trembles involuntarily. The words he’s just hurled at me with such venom, linger in the air, poisoning the atmosphere around us.
Unable to escape his hold, I have no choice but to answer him, “Thank you for correcting my unacceptable behavior and helping me become a better wife, Derek.” The words come out in a whimper. This is something Derek has done many times, and if I don’t say it just right or act contrite enough, he gets even more irate.
“You must be getting cock somewhere else since you don’t want mine.” His words are accusatory. Their sharp sting leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. He’s coming home with a whore’s cheap perfume lingering on his body and lipstick on his collar, and yet I’m the one cheating? “No, no, I would never do that to you, Derek. Please stop. I promise I won’t say anything again. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” I beg desperately. Feeling something wet trickle down my face, I try to wipe it away. I don’t know if it’s blood, spit or tears. Though, I suspect it’s a bit of all three.
When we get to our bedroom, Derek continues to drag me. Fear and desperation flood my veins as every muscle aches. Once we get within reach of our bed, he picks me up and tosses me onto it. Bouncing upon impact, I struggle and fight him. Kicking, scratching, and trying to get away is my goal, because I know what’s coming next. As I thrash and claw, his grip tightens.