Bad Wife Read online

  The rest was a blur. I was shaking all the way up to her room, I know that.

  Once we got inside, she threw her purse to the floor and we kissed. They were deep, hungry, artless kisses. The kisses of two starved, depraved, horny little bitches.

  She took her pants down and I ducked my head under her dress and licked her until she screamed with pleasure. Then we undressed and I screwed her in every position imaginable… until I came deep inside her body, my cock sore from fucking and holding on to my orgasm for so long, desperate to please her. I remember looking down at myself and thinking I’d never seen my dick so hard. She looked so pleased afterwards as she played with my pubic hair and ran her hands all over me.

  We fucked all night and it was delirious. I was in love with her body.

  When she shook out her hair in the morning and strode across the room naked, thinking I was still asleep, she stood staring out of the window, the voile curtains sparing her modesty from the people out walking the grounds. She didn’t see I was looking until she turned around and then, shyly, she crept back towards the bed and into my arms.

  I folded her into me that morning and made love to her. It was perfect. Her body responded to mine in ways that seemed to surprise her and I couldn’t get enough.

  After that, we’d spend entire weekends in each other’s arms. It would always be her flat in the city centre. It would always be dirty and lengthy and I’d always roll up to work on Monday mornings with scratches down my back.

  Then it got serious when I told her I loved her. She said the words back without hesitation.

  We moved in together but there were times when the hot stuff didn’t happen. I realised it was never about me. She would tell me it was a bad period and after a while, we’d hit the sack again. Though she wanted me to be gentler sometimes, it was like we’d never had a drought at all once we came back together. It would always be as hot and as heady and as intense as it had been that first night.

  How many times we’ve had unprotected sex, I wouldn’t know. And still, no baby. That first night we had together was rampant. I fucked her standing up. I fucked her doggy style. She rode me to orgasm once or twice. She swallowed my cum. She came down my throat, too. That level of attraction… I’m not sure that comes along for many people. But twice? I doubt it’s possible to have what we have with another person in any one lifetime. I know I’ll never find this again. I’m her blue-eyed boy, she’s my dark seductress. I like the way we look together, I like the way we are together and I love the way we feel together.

  But now there’s pain, too. There’s hurt. There’s this other mixture of emotions beyond sex, lust and passion. There’s deep love, deep concern. There’s my fascination of her little routines. The secrets she keeps. Her mystique. Everything, even now, is a novelty. Her little ways… her femininity. It is still wonderful to have a wife like her, even if she does have her flaws.

  We’ve been lying like this for a while now, her in my arms, her fingers constantly stroking the hairs of my forearms.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asks eventually, because neither of us seems to be able to fall asleep.

  “I was thinking about when we first met.”

  I sense she’s smiling even though I can’t see her face, her head resting back against my shoulder.

  “I thought I was going to die,” she breathes. “Your hair. I was obsessed with your hair. I would wander through the office just to be able to look at it.”

  “You did?” I chuckle.

  “The first time I saw you up close, you were getting coffee or tea or whatever and all I saw was the back of you. I was too shy and backed out of the room.”

  “What? No way.”

  I slide onto my side and pull her against me, moving her hair back off her face so we can talk properly. In the shadow of the room her eyes look huge, her cheekbones are so pronounced and she looks fragile. Delicate. I always thought she was so strong. Untouchable. I was wrong. She is strong, she’s dealt with so much, but she’s also human. She’s flawed. She hurts. She feels. She’s a girl, really. She’s my girl. She’s my baby.

  “You were so tall and I’d seen you wandering about the office and thought you were cute,” she says, giggling, “and then when I saw the back of you. Your cute bum and long legs, broad back and shoulders, your thick, untamed crop of hair.” She puts her hand into it and brushes it back from my face. “Then when our eyes caught across that meeting room and I looked into your baby blues, I thought I was going to melt into a puddle. It was like a shot of something, I don’t know… like something went right through me. Like my spirit was shaken.”

  I lean in and kiss her mouth, softly, chastely. “It was love at first sight.”

  “Yes,” she whispers. “Did you ache for me? Because I did for you. I ached. It hurt. I didn’t know if you’d want me… if anyone would want me.”

  I pull her closer, our foreheads pushed together. “I almost emailed you so many times to ask you out. I was so intimidated. You, in your little skirt suits and with your hair twisted back. Your confidence and self-possession. I was besotted. I remember the morning after our first night together, you stood by the window so beautiful and exposed… and I saw your hair for the first time, flowing down your back and free… I haven’t ever seen anything else so beautiful. How you looked, it was like you’d found something…”

  “Peace,” she whispers, “calm. Love. I’d found love. I knew it then, I’ve always known it, in here.” She takes my hand and places it over her heart. “But my mind, is another matter entirely. And my father? He knew I was sick. In here.” She points at her head. “And what did he do? He threw money at the problem. He paid for me to have things. He didn’t listen to me. Didn’t care.”

  “I didn’t listen enough, Susie. I haven’t cared enough. I haven’t done enough, I know that now.”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head. “You’ve loved me. I’ve felt it when we’re together, when you’re holding me at night. This love, it has always been between us, it always will. Maybe because of our love, I thought there was enough here that I didn’t have to tell you things, that we’d… get through it, somehow. I was stupid. I thought talking about it all was irrelevant, and it’s not. It’s more important than anything.”

  I nod fast, so glad she thinks so. I kiss her lips again and stare at her face.

  “There’s only been you and him,” she whispers, “only two men. And when you and I were together that first time, just that one night blew away years spent with that other man. He did not compare. When I was there by the window that morning, the whole world looked different. I felt alive. When you’ve spent so long feeling alone and unwanted and unloved, when the opposite happens, you know it, you recognise it immediately. It’s unmistakable. It’s why I married you despite all my fears and all my crap and all my illness. I dove right in with you, because I love you incomparably.”

  I kiss her tenderly, allowing my lips to take in the shape of hers. When our tongues caress, my dick hardens and I pull her leg around my waist, holding her close.

  Her body slackens and relaxes beneath mine as I rest partially on top of her, holding her close as we share luxurious, tender, soft and patient kisses. I stroke my nose along hers and her eyes are sparkling with wonder, her heart is beating against mine and she’s holding onto me so tight. I’ve needed her to cling to me for so long and I didn’t know what it was. It would sometimes frustrate me that I’d feel outside of her confidence or something… that I didn’t feel truly like she was mine. It was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I’ve needed her to need me… to confide in me… to trust me and be vulnerable with me. This is the first time she’s allowed me this… and I love her so much more because of it.

  I tug at her babydoll nightdress and she looks uncertain at first. Then I place my hand on her stomach beneath the layers of silk and satin, touching her skin which is even more exquisite… even more beautiful than any of the expensive things she’s ever worn or
draped around her beautiful body.

  She keeps her eyes on mine, her hands buried in my hair, as my fingers slip between her folds and find her opening, wet and engorged. My eyes flash and she sees it, responds to it and succumbs. I rub the wetness around her clit and she inhales sharply, arching towards me, her body slackening even more… her will to resist me growing weaker. I revel in her submission, in her delight as I slowly slip my fingers into her, gently, coaxing, more wetness gathering around my digits.

  “Oh, Adam,” she cries, right before she comes, unable to stop herself.

  Her delicate insides clutch my fingers and squeeze, contract, throb around my penetration of her. She lies back, arms above her head, done for. I think she would fall asleep right now if I let her.

  I tug at the hem of her babydoll and she doesn’t look scared anymore. She helps me with it, tugging it off over her head. I toss the sheets away and stare down at her naked body, laving her nipple. She watches me and doesn’t wince, doesn’t flinch as I stroke her belly at the same time as tweaking her nipple between my teeth. Her hands are still above her head, like she’s given into me, she’s not afraid anymore. She’s not trying to defend herself. She’s open to me, available… no more secrets between us.

  I kiss her beautiful breasts, small and delicate, her dark nipples utterly perfect… sublime. She needn’t wear bras but she does, even though they are mere decoration, clothing perfection beneath.

  I’m so hard when she touches my dick, I almost come. It puts me almost off the rails and I groan, trying to retreat so she can’t make me ejaculate before I’ve done with her.

  “Arms above your head, wife,” I command, growling.

  Her eyelids flutter shut and her lips are parted as I begin kissing my way down her body, finding all the bits of her I love. I kiss the tiny little strip of blonde hair that runs from her navel down to her pussy and feel her scarring under my tongue for the first time. I never even noticed it before but now I know what it is, I know to love it even more.

  I fling her legs apart until she’s spread as wide as possible and whisper, “Susie?”

  “Yes, baby,” she moans.

  “Look at yourself.”

  She looks down and sees me between her legs, my mouth poised to lick her. I spread her lips open and she stares down at herself, seeing only a little of what I can see… but still enough.

  “Your clit is bulging out of its hood and your lips are ripe and swollen. I love your little black line of pussy hair and your dark perineum. You’re utterly fuckable, Mrs Hartley. God, I love you.”

  She hisses when I lick indulgently from her vagina to her clit, slurping on her juices. Her musky scent is consuming… her taste sweet and thick with desire.

  “Oh, god. Adam,” she cries, lifting her hips into my mouth as she finds purchase, her feet on my shoulders.

  “Fuck, fuck,” I groan inaudibly, her pussy lips around my mouth.

  I suck furiously on all the delicious, delicate parts of her, her body constantly shuddering and trembling under my touch. I watch her gyrating into me, her hands on her breasts, her face and neck red and blotchy, sweat on her brow. I’ve never seen her like this before. She would usually beg me to be quick because she wanted me inside of her, but now she couldn’t care less.

  I swipe my tongue over her clit furiously, then suck her in deep, then lick around her nubbin, getting excited and straying back to her hole… until she grabs my head and plants me right where she wants me, my tongue on her clit.

  I hold her hands and she squeezes my fingers as she rolls her hips with no inhibitions whatsoever, giving me herself, her pleasure… her desires. I lap up her juices and focus my tongue over her clit and nowhere else, small little darts against her swollen purple flesh… and then she comes so hard, her legs around my head almost squeezing the breath from me as I fight her, licking until she can’t take anymore and she’s shrieked and screamed the house down.

  She falls into a mess of limbs and hair, sprawled across the bed, her chest panting up and down in the aftermath.

  “Oh, god. Susie. I’m so hard,” I moan, stroking myself.

  Two angry eyes open and she looks at me, stroking myself.

  “It’s so big, Adam. You’re so dirty and disgusting. You’re so bad. Look at how hard and wet and big it is.”

  “I know, I know.” I begin to pump my dick more meaningfully and she’s on her knees before I know it, sucking me into her mouth.

  I almost come with the first suck but manage not to, holding off, getting used to her tight, wet, hot little mouth. She moans and groans before slipping off me, turning and offering me her body.

  She yells with pleasure when I plunge into her cavern, her body slick and swollen and ready for mine.

  “Okay, Susie?”

  “Oh my god, Adam. You’re massive. Fuck me. Come inside me. Deep. I need you.”

  I let her words get the better of me and I fuck her. I grab her rump and I use her, bucking and banging into her, my hands dragging her back and forth.

  She comes within a few strokes, clutching me, the teeth of her vagina rendering me so useless, I can do nothing to stop myself filling her with one harsh, fitful blast. I like to control my own orgasm, to be able to edge and let it flow gently, but then she keeps contracting around me and I discover something even better. I discover a second, more euphoric orgasm.

  I lunge into her a few times, as though to ease away the last of myself, and end up coming once more, my eyes squeezed shut, face lifted to the skies as I empty… and empty… my cock pulsing so painfully… my body teased dry.

  We curl up together and she nestles into me, her face on my chest. I hold her close, keep her safe, whisper I love her and that she’s so beautiful. I hold her hands, stroke her cheeks, brush her hair down her back.

  “Has that ever happened before?” she mumbles.

  “What?”

  “You came… twice.”

  “Never.”

  “Not even with her?” she spits.

  My stomach roils and she lifts her face, showing me her pain. “She told me. She said it wouldn’t be long before she’d have you back. She never tried to be my friend. Her words hurt me more than I could ever say. She told me you’d see through me eventually… you’d go back to her.”

  My face contorts with anguish and I lean in and kiss her fiercely. “No, Susie. No. You’re my love. You’re my wife. I’ve only had two sexual partners, the same as there’s only been two for you. But she was nothing and she knows it. She was drunken fumbles and teenage curiosity. She knows she was never anything more. She meant nothing compared to you. She means nothing. I don’t ever want to see her again now you’ve told me that.”

  “And you wonder why I was so insecure?” She shakes in my arms and I curse that other woman.

  Not even a woman.

  Just someone I fucked.

  Chloe.

  That fucking jealous, meddling bitch.

  If we ever cross paths again, I will let her know exactly what I think of her.

  Chapter Seven

  Six Months Later

  March is here and everything is coming back to life. Springtime and all that. It almost feels unfair that life is regenerating outside the windows and doors of our house, while inside, everything continues to stagnate.

  Susan had IVF just before Christmas but it didn’t stick. And we did it again last month – and nothing. She’s determined to try once more but we’ve spent so much money already. Susan sold her car and half her wardrobe. I had to watch her bag everything up and lug it all to the Post Office to send away all her precious things. Her favourite Jimmy Choos. Her Radley handbags. She sold them all on eBay. I loaned some money from my parents after telling them what we were going through. My mother was extremely worried and explained that they’d tried for years before having me – maybe it would be the same for us. I explained Susan’s complications and Dad wrote a cheque, no more questions. I’ve also been working all the hours I can and we’ve cut our
cloth. No meals out. No expensive wine. We didn’t even go on our usual holiday for some winter sun in early January. And I have no idea what we have to show for all our efforts.

  Because she’s older than I originally imagined, she’s asked whether we might try for a third time through the NHS, but that might take longer and might prove complex. Our viable embryos are stored in a private facility. I’ve even considered telling her to go to her father, just for one last try. Just anything… anything at all… to make her smile again.

  Between IVFs we fuck like rabbits… hoping, praying… or maybe it’s to console ourselves we’ll still have one another if none of this comes off.

  The rest of the time, she shuffles around, she lies in bed staring into space… quiet, contemplative, and occasionally when I get closer, I see she’s shedding tears quietly. Sometimes she lies with a hot water bottle against her stomach. Sometimes I find her on the toilet, head in her hands because of the pain of menstruation. She’s had a lot of time off sick recently since coming off the tablets that stop her periods. She’s under pressure to get her medical issues under control because her superiors have noted her excessive absences. If we’re going to try one last time, we need to make the decision now. Or it could be months or years before we try again – if ever.

  I’m making Sunday dinner when my phone rings. Susan is upstairs but half of me wonders if she’s calling down for something – because I don’t know who else it could be.

  It’s Lily.

  It’ll be nice to hear a friendly voice.

  “Hey, Lily? I’ve been thinking about you and Theo. We miss you.”

  “Hey… hey, Adam.” Her voice is soft, a little weaker than normal.

  “Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” Please say they haven’t split up… it would be the worst thing to hear right now. I love those two.

  “Oh, well, I’m hoping for a favour. A big favour.”

  “Go on…”

  “Theo’s mother passed away,” she tells me gently, and I wonder if Theo’s in the room with her, listening in. There aren’t many places in their tiny London flat you can escape to.