Chapter 30
JOSEPH
She falls asleep in my arms, which is unusual. Women don’t fall asleep in my bed; they don’t usually get that far. Not that this is my bed. It’s smaller than the emperor-sized one in the room below the attic one.
When I told Tiffany about my lie, I didn’t feel good about myself. Watching the light dim from her smile cut me deeper than I thought it would. It was a casual comment with repercussions that I never expected to bother me. But it did, and I wonder about that.
She is sleeping soundly, her rhythmic breathing comforting, and the warmth of her body reassuring. I wonder why I like it so much. I have been alone for so long now it’s become normality to me. Sharing my space with anyone is an irritation, but not, it seems, with her.
My mind is having a field day as it taunts me.
She will never love you; hell, she probably hates you. You’re a fool if you think she’ll stay. You don’t deserve love. You’re a monster. You should be dead instead of him.
Memories swirl around me like angry angels, one in particular taken way before his time. It was my fault, my stupid, arrogant fault, and I may as well be dead because my soul died that day.
I don’t deserve love. I don’t deserve life and I don’t deserve a woman like Tiffany. An angel. A beautiful angel who has led a terrible life until now.
On the outside, she had everything; reality tells a different story.
I attempt to shift my mind in the stillness of the night to retribution. Something I’m very capable of, relish in fact.
I’ve certainly had a lot of practice, and now I know why.
Tiffany sighs, a sweet sound of contentment as she snuggles beside me, her arm pulling me in tighter as she whimpers in her sleep. I tighten my hold, wishing I could dive into her dream and slay whatever is concerning her, accepting she is angry with me and probably already hates me.
Your wife hates you; why wouldn’t she?
That angry voice will not go away and is a burden I have grown used to bearing.
Minutes merge into hours as I attempt to relax, but for the entire night I lie by Tiffany’s side, battling the demons away, sleep merely snatched in fleeting moments before my mind wakes me to prevent me from falling too deeply.
* * *
At five am I slide from the bed and leave Tiffany sleeping peacefully, a sweet smile on her beautiful face, the image I take with me.
I head to my gym in the basement, after stopping by my room to change, and as I begin my workout, loud music pumps from the speakers – classical rock, my favorite blend of madness.
It must be six am when the door opens, and a vision reflects in the floor to ceiling mirrors.
Tiffany stands there with tousled hair, her silk robe slightly parted as she rubs her eyes.
“You left.”
Two words that speak volumes as I note the sadness in them, and I’m strangely touched by how she came to find me.
I lower the weights and watch her hesitate. As I reach for my water bottle, I chug down the contents, my muscles screaming from the hard workout I always put them through.
“I thought you wanted me to leave.”
“I, um, did last night anyway.”
She approaches and gazes around her with interest.
“The machines look complicated.”
“They’re not. Have you ever been in a gym before?”
“No.” She shrugs, hesitating as she stands nearby, and I shift, pointing to the space beside me.
As she drops onto it, the robe falls open, revealing the swell of her breast, and I hate that she pulls it tight around her and smiles guiltily.
“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. It’s just, well, I woke up and, well, wondered where you went.”
Something tugs at my heart at her concern, and I don’t miss how her attention drifts to my sweat-covered body, a hint of blush in her cheeks as she bites on her bottom lip.
I reach out, stroking her hair back away from her face, loving how she trembles, her muscles relaxing as she leans against my hand.
“Tiffany.”
I edge closer, my hand slipping around the back of her head, angling her closer, staring into her eyes as she gazes into mine with the face of an angel.
Her lips part and I claim them with mine, loving the sweet taste of her, the warmth from her body, the soft skin begging to slide against mine.
I shift the robe off her shoulders, exposing her breasts. My hand reaches for one of them, running my finger over the hard nipple.
Her soft moan causes my cock to jerk in my pants, and I ease them down with one hand, shifting her onto my lap to sit astride me.
Her arms lock behind me, pulling my head closer, her lips claiming mine this time as she rubs hard against my cock.
Her tits crush against my chest, and her kiss is deeper, more passionate, and I shift her slightly, bringing her down slowly onto my cock.
“Oh, God.”
Her groan is pure ecstasy as she moves against me, her clit grinding against my shaft as she drives her own pleasure.
Heat intensifies along with her breathing, and I grip her waist hard between my hands, pumping up into her, almost jerking off inside her.
Her head falls back, offering me easy access to her neck, and I suck on the sweet flesh, rutting like an animal inside her.
My pulse is pounding as the blood sears inside me, her gentle moans strangely hypnotic against the music.
Then she screams, like an angel tumbling from the sky, and as her pussy clamps down on my cock, I swear I see stars. My release is violent, surprising even, and as I power into her, my mind is emptied of nothing but euphoria.
The demons fly away as the angels form a circle around me, allowing me peace for a delicious moment, a lightness of spirit that I certainly don’t deserve.
I bury my face into her neck, breathing in deeply as my cock jerks inside her, weeping with happiness.
She feels like home. Why does she bring me so much peace when I bring her nothing but misery?
I close my eyes against her throat, her arms tightly wrapped around me, glued together, our hearts pounding. Closer than two people can be, aside from physicality, almost intimate.
Tension slides from my shoulders, my breathing evening out, my cock reluctant to leave, and my mind fucked.
She presses light kisses on my head, her fingers stroking my back, and she whispers, “I forgive you, Joseph.”
I close my eyes, unusual tears welling behind them, a simple statement that is at odds with my world.
She presses light kisses on my face, her heart beating against mine, and she says softly, “I understand what you did, your reasons for it, and well, I appreciate your honesty.”
I tighten my hold, reluctant to let her inside. Forgiveness isn’t something I deserve, if only she knew why.
My heart is broken; it can never be repaired, and so with a deep inward sigh, I relax my hold and say huskily, “Come, we should clean up. My workout has made me hungry.”
I nip her lip, loving her soft groan, and as she shifts off me, she leaves a slick trail on my cock.
She glances down, and her skin flushes, and her eyes sparkle as she whispers, “I’m sorry about that. I’ll grab you a cloth to clean up.”
She’s sorry – that’s adorable, and the old me would be instructing her to get on her knees and clean it up with her mouth.
But not Tiffany, not my queen. I don’t want her to kneel at my request. I don’t want to order her to do anything which surprises me.
I am her servant, not the other way around, and as she pulls on her robe, her small, impish smile unravels my heart.