by Smith, A. T
“They’re back, Ant. I thought they were gone forever, but they’re back and they’re looking for him, they want Leighton. God, I can't breathe, I'm going to be sick.” I jump from the chair and sprint through my house to the closest bathroom, depositing my food and stomach contents into the bowl.
“Tell me, Abigail. Who are you talking about?” He is beside me, brushing my hair from my face, stroking my forehead softly with a damp cloth.
“The Blackmans. They were at the restaurant Tuesday and they cornered Joe, pushed him into a wall and bruised his back. They threatened him, told him not to go back there and to tell Leighton they would be back. Fuck, what do we do?” Another bout of vomit escapes my mouth and lands in the toilet.
“I need to tell Leighton, you understand that don't you Abbi?” Antonio warns me and I nod, crying painful tears.
“I know, I promised Joe I wouldn’t tell anyone but after what he’s told me I have to, I can't risk not saying anything. If they are back again, Ant, I'm worried what they will do. They hurt him, he’s so scared, Ant. He wouldn’t even look at Leighton earlier, his own father. He was scared of him because he was a man.” I turn and sit on my bottom leaning against the cabinet in the toilet. I brush my hair back, placing my hands either side of my forehead pushing firmly into my temples, to ease the migraine heading my way.
“I'm calling a meeting tonight, Abigail. I need you there to tell everyone what Joe said. He doesn’t need to know anything, he doesn’t need to know we know or that we will do anything about it. Just remain calm and just be there for him and for the love of God, keep him away from Angelo’s,” Antonio tells me, helping me to stand from the floor. He wipes my face with a cool cloth and flushes the chain. My stomach is settled a little, so I follow him through the lounge and back outside.
With my face clear and my heart broken, I walk over to Georgia and take my daughter from her. I want to cry, I want to cling to her with everything I have to make sure she doesn’t ever know the pain we both went through before she was born. The trauma I suffered with her inside my stomach is something I still can't forget and she doesn’t need to be subjected to it again.
I sit down, Melissa snuggled into my chest and watch my husband and son as they splash around in the water. Joe is back to his normal self, laughing, splashing and copying everything his dad does. I can see by the looks Leighton throws me that he doesn’t believe Joe’s story about the park, but for his benefit he pretends.
I watch as Antonio gets into the water and wades over to my husband, whispering in his ear. I know he’s telling him there’s a meeting tonight, but not what it’s about. Leighton looks at me with eyes that portray fear and anger. He holds it inside him expertly, continuing to play with our son as though nothing has happened.
I look to my right, Maria cradling the twins as they feed from her. It is the most beautiful and incredible thing. She looks at me and smiles, mouthing ‘are you okay?’ and I nod back, faking my own smile.
Georgia and she will never know of what is to come, of what happened to Joe. They don’t need to and it is best for them to remain as far away from the situation as possible. “Mum, dad said I can stay at Auntie Maria’s tonight and help look after the twins because their daddies have to come to ours to help daddy with work.” Joe is excited, his face lighting up with glee as he walks from me to Maria. He tells her the plan and she smiles to him, nodding her acceptance.
My life, as it was, perfect, precious and safe is about to turn on its axis and become one big cluster-fuck. Not only is this imbedding a fear inside of me I can’t get rid of, it is drudging up everything I have put into the back of my mind. My betrayal to Leighton and the pain it has caused us as a couple. Everything is coming back to the surface and haunting me all over again. I want to cry, to plead to God to help me to help us through the hard time ahead, but all I get is the continuous heat and sunshine.
I need a sign from him, anything that will tell me he is there and he will guide us safely through everything.
*****
I pack Joseph an overnight bag, containing his pyjamas, teddy and cars. His face is alight with glee as he waits by the door to go. Maria kisses my cheek and heads out with the babies and my son. I wave them as they drive off, Luke and Brad with her, for now. They will return soon to talk about the beginning to a new hell.
I make myself busy, tidying, cooking and cleaning in preparation for tonight. I bath and settle Melissa into bed and then return to the kitchen to make myself a drink. A stiff bloody drink. With vodka in a glass, I swallow it straight down, allowing the burn deep inside of me.
“Baby, you gonna tell me what this is all about now?” I feel Leighton behind me, his hard body pressing against me. I lean back into him, breathing heavily. My anger, the raw hatred inside of me for those despicable people is strong and toxic. With all of my strength, I turn and launch the empty glass across the room, allowing it to shatter and spread across the floor. I look to my husband, his eyes hooded and dark.
“Abigail,” he moans out as he takes in my appearance. I can't help myself, the situation isn’t right nor is the circumstance but I need him, I need to feel him and know he is there.
I launch myself into his arms, smashing my mouth against his, hard. “Baby,” I moan, my hands roaming his body as he lifts me and places me atop the kitchen island. I am actually glad Joe is gone, I can be carefree and naughty for once. I don’t care if any adults catch me, but I need my husband and I need him now. “Love me Leighton.” I beg him, kissing his mouth, his neck, his jaw. My hands grip his waistband, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his thighs with my feet. “I need you, baby. I need you now. Fuck me and fuck me hard.” I plead, clawing at his shirt as I pull it over his head.
Leighton’s hands slip between us also, pulling my shorts and thong over my arse and down my legs. I sit atop the counter, one of his work shirts drowning me, but my pussy bare and open for him. I can feel my arousal dripping from within me, trickling onto the cold surface. “Fuck, you look so hot like this. Stay there,” he orders me, pushing my legs onto the counter and spreading them open. He stares hungrily at my sex, ripe and ready for his touch.
He disappears from the kitchen and I know better than to move. I remain how he leaves me, spread open for his disposal. I wait, biting my lip in anticipation for him. He returns wielding a flogger and my eyes bulge as my heart rate accelerates. I nod sexily, still biting my lip as I stare him down. I want him and I want him now.
“Get down and bend over, Abigail. We both need this, it’s been far too long,” he orders me, that British clipped tone back once again. We haven’t been together like this since before the wedding, not finding the time or environment for it. In a way, I think now, he is doing this to prove he is still a dominant and that him submitting to the mysterious Marcus, doesn’t change the man he was before.
“Yes Sir,” I reply seductively and timidly as I shuffle from the counter and onto the floor. I bend over, clinging to the edges of the marble worktop.
Bring it the fuck on.
Chapter Twenty-Nine Leighton
I need to grasp some control right now, because my blood is fucking boiling. She isn’t telling me what this was about, but calling a meeting with my men and herself makes me very suspicious and nervous. I have watched my son leave with Maria and the twins, watched the glee on his face, a total contrast to his previous expression.
“You stay there, you do not move,” I command her as she reaches out sideways and clings to the worktop. Her pretty little arse pokes out, my oversized work shirt barely covering the delicious curves on show. I run my hand over the softness, squeezing harshly and then slapping it hard against her. She jolts forward a little, moaning as she does. I can see her hands desperate to let go, to touch herself and beg for me. “I do not want to hear a word from you Abigail. You seem to be mute in relation to our son, so I suggest we keep you that way for now,” I tell her, running my fingers through the soft suede throngs of the flogger.
I need Marcus, but there is no way in hell I’d let him dominate me the way he has, in front of her or anyone I know. But his presence alone, it grounds me. “Scott!” I shout through the house, not needing anyone else to see her naked. Antonio is with my sister now, so he does not get to see my wife this way and Thomas and Nate are gay and really don’t need the visual of a woman’s sweet pussy.
“Boss,” he says from the hall. “Wow, now isn’t that a pretty picture?” he says, leaning against the doorframe and stroking his lip with his thumb. It is a hot image, the way his strong body stands there, aroused by my wife’s appearance.
“It is, isn’t it? Please can you go through my phone and call Marcus, tell him I need him and give him my address,” I ask him, winking as the erection tenting in his pants is obvious. He readjusts himself, leaving the kitchen.
“Here that, Angel? You’ve got our Scott all hot and bothered with your sexy arse and wet slippery pussy on show. Now, I’m going to paint it.” I warn her, bringing the flogger back and whipping it forward, barely flicking her skin with the ends.
She remains silent, but I see the tensing of her sex, her pussy contracting. I continue, softly attacking her with the softness. Her head lolls forward, the pleasure overtaking her. “Now, you can talk for one minute, tell me what this is about,” I order her, coming behind her and bringing my hands to her delicate throat. I lift her head back, kissing the length of her neck.
She shakes her head, pushing her naked backside into my tightening groin. “No, okay.” I shrug my shoulder, dropping her again. She keeps her fingers gripped to the wood, pushing herself forward so her breasts press against the marble and her arse protrudes just the perfect amount. I can see her damp folds, glistening with her juices, her perfect little clit throbbing for me to lick and suck on.
Nothing is happening tonight until I have fucked my wife, fucked her pussy hard and raw. It has been too long since we have been this way, it has been gentle lovemaking and fantastic oral for the past month, but now my cock is aching and in the mood for rough. So rough, it shall get.
I use the flogger again, harder this time, bringing the tips down firm and painfully against her. Her thighs and backside redden, presenting beautiful stripes. “You’re earning your stripes good tonight, baby. Think you can handle more?” I ask her, stroking my large hand over the soreness.
“Yes, Sir. Give me everything you have, hurt me, fuck me and love me.” She screams, pushing herself back onto me.
“SCOTT!” I shout again, hearing his feet skid to a halt at the door again.
“Seriously Leigh, you have to stop this here or I’m going to wind up fucking your wife.” I laugh at his enthusiasm and the tongue hanging from his mouth. “Look at these beautiful marks. May I?” he asks me, walking towards Abigail. There is no trepidation in her eyes or in her body.
“Certainly. Abigail, Scott will do as he pleases and you will take it,” I warn her, spanking once more, hard and fiercely to her right cheek.
“Please, anything. Just, please.” She gasps as Scott gently caresses her bottom, running his fingertips ever so lightly across each mark. Back and forth, he tenderly swipes with his fingers, making Abigail shiver and shake.
Scott repeats the same as me, grasping her neck and lifting her back against him. He towers over her, his perfect body pressed to hers. His erection prods at her bare backside and she groans loudly. “I’ve wanted to delve inside this tight pussy forever, baby. I'm going to fuck you with my fingers until you’re screaming and then I'm going to cane your ass until you’re coming in Leighton's mouth.” It is a risky move, having my mouth attached to her pulsing pussy as he brings a piece of rattan to her cheeks, but Scott is the most precise Dominant I have ever seen, his skills legendary and expert.
“Get it.” I moan myself, rubbing my own solid length, standing tall and proud. Abigail rids me of my jeans before, my body now naked and wet with perspiration.
Scott runs off, his feet quick against the marble floors as I approach my wife again. “Is this okay, Angel?” I ask her, needing her answer. I know she won’t mind, she has been fucked by more than just me, for me, but this is Scott, a man who was happy if we broke up.
“Yes, please, I want him and I want you, Leighton. I'm your slut. You say what goes and I obey, Sir.” I chuckle menacingly in her ear, stroking her gently. I run my fingers from her lips, down her arms to her hands. I interlock my fingers with hers, pushing her arms out further, pushing my cock into her wet lips. “Gosh, I want to slip inside of you right now, baby, I want to fuck you hard and long until you’re dripping everywhere.” Her head pushes back onto my shoulder, her bright blue eyes staring intently into mine. She nibbles furiously at her bottom lip, rawness present with the indentation.
“Sir, I want you licking my pussy, fucking me with your tongue whilst Scott marks me. I want that, I want to feel you and Scott on me.” She begs me, her eyes hooded and pleading.
“Oh, baby, how can I refuse you when you’re asking so fucking beautifully? However, I must warn you, Scott is a rough bastard with his punishment, he’s sadistic.” I pre-warn her, knowing how Scott loves to hurt someone.
“But Sir, with your tongue on me, I’ll forget everything else around me. It’ll be just me and you.” She moans as I slap her lightly on her redness, pushing my erection through her folds and into her. I place my hands on her hips and pull her back, filling her to the brim with my cock. She rides me, grinding her arse on me, thrashing as I pump inside of her.
“Ready?” Scott asks from behind me. “Or I could just watch this.” I turn and look to him, his eyebrows raised, his teeth nibbling his lip and his hand stroking his hardness through his trousers. “I’m ready to bust the seams of my pants, Abbi. You look so damn beautiful like that,” Scott tells her, walking to her.
He lifts her body upright against me, my hands instantly reaching up to caress her breasts through the cotton of my shirt. He wedges himself in front, leaning against the island. He gently places his hands on the collar of her shirt, pulling her close to him. His lips press to her neck, on top of her carotid artery. Her body trembles in his grasp.
His lips reach her ear and I feel the tightening in her snug sheath as he whispers to her. “Do you want the cane, baby, or do you want me to drop to my knees and feast on this beautiful pussy?” His hand reaches down and strokes at her wetness, his fingertips gliding over my cock as I slide inside of her. “Huh? What is it to be, Abigail? Because, I for one would love to taste you.” He bites her lobe before talking even quieter. “And Leighton.” He winks at me and I smile, feeling my dick harden further with his words.
The American charm is effective, even to me, there is no way Abigail isn’t putty in his hands. “Do it,” she instructs him, placing her hands onto his shoulders, pushing him to his knees.
“With fucking pleasure, darlin’.” I look over her shoulder, groaning as he slowly unbuttons her shirt to above her belly button, tying it into a knot so he can reach her easier. Her smooth stomach comes into view, the faint stretch marks still present and driving me crazy. I love her, every tiny thing about her. I love her body, I love her mind, I love how much she loves our children and I love, above all else, her fucking pussy.
“Ahhh Scott.” Abigail tenses around me, her pussy shrouding me like a velvet tunnel. I look between her slightly, parted thighs and watch as Scott slowly drags his tongue through her slickness, circling her clit before nibbling on it. “Fuck, ahhh, more, I need more.” She begs him, her hands reaching down to grab his hair. I grab them quickly, once again restraining them so she can't move.
Now, this is torture for her. Not being able to grab onto him and ride his tongue is going to be monumentally hard. I feel his fingers ease in her pussy, beside my cock. The scraping of his fing
ers as he slides in, adjusting to the tightness, has my balls nearly busting. “Scott,” I groan out myself, my head tilting back to stare at the bright lights above.
“She is so tight, Leighton. Do you think she’d handle both of us in her?” Scott asks, lapping at her clit as his fingers gently move around inside, stroking her g-spot.
“Baby, do you think you could handle Scott sliding his hard cock in next to mine?” I ask my wife and her answering groan tells me all I need to know. I know it will hurt her, being stretched so far, but in the end, she will love it.
“We’re going to need lube, Scott,” I inform him, still slowly moving back and forth inside of my wife’s hot cunt.
“On it.” He stands, running from the room once again. Within seconds, he is back, removing his trousers and coating Abbi’s already wet pussy in more slickness.
“Condom, Scott.” I look at him, reminding him who is in charge here. He nods, smiling as he removes the condom from his pocket and tears the packet open. I admire his length as he slowly rolls the rubber down it, stroking it a few times before coming to stand in front of Abbi.
He hops up onto the counter, barely hip height. “Up here, baby,” he instructs Abbi and I help her climb up, mounting his lap. “Now, slide that pussy down on my cock.” He holds the base of his erection, making it stand to attention.
“Yes, Sir.” She moans, pressing her hands to his chest as she slips down onto him, smothering him in the most intense heat.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Scott cries out, placing his hands on her hips. “Let me just enjoy this for one moment,” he asks me, slowly lifting Abbi up and down on top of him, her tight cunt surrounding him.
“Enough, I need in,” I say, pushing Abbi to lie down parallel on Scott. “This is going to be tight, Angel. Relax and allow me inside,” I ask her, slowly teasing her entrance with my own erection. Bit by bit I push inside, her gasps and whines informing me of the pain.
“Always, I’ll always let you in, Leighton. More, fuck me baby.” Okay, so the whines clearly aren’t for pain, my little temptress is a naughty girl.
