7.Pamela

On Monday, Hugo's back to work, leaving me alone in the house. I'm lounging on the bed, absently twirling the ring on my finger. A smile crosses my face. I'm happy. Hugo is making me happy. He's making me trust again, making my ribcage feel like it's hosting an array of butterflies each time I think of him. My husband has surprised me. He's turned out to be more than I could ever hope for.

And it's admirable how he always seems to be at the right place at the right time. And a little bit... uncanny.

I frown. Exactly how is he always able to know where I am? He never explained how he knew I was fighting for my life on that roof, or having a nervous breakdown at the park. But somehow, he knew.

Almost as if he's watching me.

I swallow hard. That can't be it. There was no camera up on that roof or at the park... so how did he know?

Conflicted, I get up, my heart pounding. Feverish now, I decide to try something, just to be sure. Just to see if Hugo really is watching. I walk into the kitchen, searching for the biggest knife we have. When I find it, I pull it out, the weight of it feeling alien in my hand.

Taking a deep breath, I put the tip against my stomach. I hesitate, my mind racing, but just then my phone rings, startling me. The knife clatters to the floor, and I quickly pick up the phone, my hands shaking.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Hugo growls, his voice filled with a menace that sends chills down my spine. "You better not ever go anywhere near anything sharp..."

"How did you know what I was doing?" I pant, my voice trembling. There's a heavy silence on the other end of the line, each second stretching out painfully. "Tell me! How did you know?" My heart pounds so hard I can hear it in my ears, the rush of blood making me dizzy. My breath comes in shallow gasps, the room spinning.

Finally, Hugo's voice cuts through the silence, cold and measured. "The day of your surgery, I put a small camera into your hand, no bigger than a quarter inch. You can't feel it, but it allows me to see everything you do."

I stagger back, my free hand gripping the edge of the counter for support. Everything? As in, including bathroom breaks? My face flushes hot, a mix of anger and humiliation coursing through me.

"You did what?" I choke out, each word laden with disbelief.

"Only because I had to," Hugo replies, his tone turning defensive as if he had every right and I'm being rude for questioning his motives. "I couldn't let you leave without ensuring your safety."

"So you implanted a camera into my hand," I whisper, my voice barely audible. My mind races, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—betrayal, confusion, a twisted sense of protection. My hands tremble violently. "You need to come home right now. We need to talk about this."

"I'm about to go into surgery," Hugo says, his calmness only fuelling my panic. "I'll be home in two hours."

"I need you home now," I insist, desperation clawing at my throat.

"No, you will wait for me until I get back," he replies, his voice firm and unyielding.

"Maybe I won't be here when you get back," I blurt.

Hugo's voice drops, taking on a dangerous, possessive tone. "If you ever think of leaving me, I'll hunt you down and gently but firmly remind you that you're my wife. You're in this for life."

The line goes dead as I hang up, the phone slipping from my grasp. My hands shake uncontrollably, the enormity of his words crashing over me. He's seen everything. Every private moment, every vulnerable second. I feel exposed, stripped bare. My chest tightens, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

I need him home. I need to see him face to face, to confront this madness. Now.

***

Hugo

I didn't think she'd find out that soon. Those cameras were first introduced to me by mobsters who wanted it for their women, but I never thought I'd use them myself. Not until I met Pamela and that day I felt like I had no choice, reacted on pure instinct.

My mind swims, but I can't think about that now and my professional side takes over, pushing away my chaotic private life for now.

I'm on the brink of going into surgery, my hands expertly washed and sterilized. The operating room is cold and bright, filled with the sterile scent of antiseptic. The team is gathered, their faces hidden behind masks and their eyes focused, ready for the task ahead. We're about to begin a complex procedure—one that requires my full attention.

As I'm about to don my gloves, I take one last moment to check my phone. It's connected to Pamela's camera and I glance at the screen, expecting her to be pouting on the couch or something.

But the image on the screen makes my blood run cold. Pamela is sauntering into my bedroom and I nearly reel when she takes her clothes off and gets up on my bed, stark naked. She puts her head down on my pillows, spreads her legs and starts stroking her thighs, slowly, like she's made out of candy and is dusting off the sugar. Her tits heave with her breaths, her big hips start to roll and my mind spins until I fear an aneurysm.

Heat rises to my face, my vision narrowing when her fingers start wandering past her bellybutton and down to her mound until she starts playing with herself…fuck! I feel my cheeks burn and I stagger, hitting against a pile of instruments. Everyone stares at me.

"Dr. Payne, is everything alright?"

"Ah…," I let out a cough, my erection stabbing against my scrubs. "Everything's uh…" Steam practically seems to hiss from my ears and I can't form a coherent thought or sentence anymore.

I rip off the gloves with a force that's almost violent and race out of the surgery room, toppling a trashcan that's in the way and I can barely breathe. Yanking the phone to me, I glue my eyes to it and fuck…her hips are now rising up to meet the little thrusts of her fingers and I let out a foul curse.

My mind races, a flurry of thoughts colliding. I need to get to her, right now and race through the hospital corridors.

I storm into our house, flying up the stairs and stop for a second in the doorway. She's still lazily pleasuring what's mine and I let out a curse.

"Stop fucking doing that!" I growl and she gasps, looking up, her hand limp on her mound and I launch myself at her and pin her arms to the side. "The fuck do you think you're doing!"

"You're the one who installed a camera!" she cries, looking at me with wild eyes. "Who does that?"

"I'll tell you who does that. I do." My eyes bore into hers. "And I had every right to do it. You wanna cry about it to someone, I'll hire you a therapist because you sure as fuck aren't going to whine about it to me."

Breathing raggedly, she stares at me in shock. "Hugo…," she squirms, because she thought no doubt that I would simp. Get on my knees and beg for forgiveness and yeah, I do feel some guilt but she would've died if I hadn't done it. It was worth it.

"You want me to say I'm sorry? It's not happening, so you might as well stop looking at me with those bratty eyes."

"Hugo!" she wails. "What's gotten into you? This isn't like y…you…"

I'm a man on the brink, that's what's gotten into me.

"Here's the thing, wife," I grit between my teeth and put my face closer to hers. "I planned on coming home on time, sit down at our dining table and have a civil conversation about why I've been a bad husband but then you had to go and flaunt your fat, little pussy, knowing full well I'd lose my mind."

"I didn't k…know…"

"Oh, you thought I'd take it like a gent, did you?"

"Maybe…" she stammers, before her eyes flare, and she tries to yank at her wrists. "I need to put my clothes on."

"You're not leaving this bed until I'm done with you. Move one inch and I'll make you choke on my cock."

"Hugo!" she cries again. "I won't stand for this! I'm…" she trails off, when I get off the bed, rip my clothes off and her eyes drop to my engorged cock. It's ready to take over the world. Ready to forcefully take over a throne and crown itself king. Ready to put a little flag on the moon. Pamela licks her lips, looking as if she's about to protests but I grab a remote and turn on music. Heavy metal. It blasts through the room, making the walls shake. Good. Now, the neighbors won't hear her scream.

"What are you doing?" she breathes, but the frantic look in her eyes has disappeared.

"You think I don't know what you need?" I rasp, crawling back into bed again and she leans back on the pillows. I laugh a little. "I know everything about you, Pammie."

Her eyes flare. "What did you just call me?"

"Pammie. It's your name isn't it?" Cupping her neck, I thrust my tongue between her lips, and her moan comes quicker than expected. It's sharp and involuntary which makes it sound all the better.

"Wait," she pants, putting her hands on my chest. "We were supposed to talk."

"Stop fucking acting innocent," I growl, tossing her around until she's on her stomach. "I'm getting sick of you always playing hard to get."

Her eyes widen in shock, but her areolas have nearly doubled in size from arousal.

"You knew what you were doing to me, didn't you?" I rasp, clasping her throat. "Alway puckering your lips at me, always prancing around with your perky tits in the air, tempting me to lose control."

"Hugo, what is this…?"

I yank her legs apart. "You know what it is. It's about time you let me fuck that virginity out of you."

"Please…" she sobs, burying her face in the pillows.

"Please what?"

"Yes, do it!" she cries, clutching the sheets, her hips undulating on their own and her body is heating up fast enough to scorch and when I touch her between her legs, she convulses. Already coming. And I barely even did anything.

My chest heaves when I lay my body on top of hers. "You liked that didn't you, you little slut?"

Gasping, she bursts into tears, but her ass wiggles against me, her body desperate to be breached and I cup her between her legs. "Did you know I wanted to cuddle your pussy while you were unconscious after that night on the roof?" I rasp in her ear and she gasps in shock. "Don't be shocked. I wanted it so damn bad, I thought that if she screams I'll clamp a hand over her mouth and just take what's mine."

"Oh Hugo…no," she breathes in horror but I nod.

"But I knew that if I waited, you'd probably like it more." I let out a rough laugh at the way she's trembling in anticipation for what I'm about to do next, and I slide my lips along her sweaty skin. "Now, whose sweet, little whore are you?"

"Yours," she pants, nodding "Only yours."

"Cup yourself," I order and she quickly does as I ask. "I want a close up on what I'm going to do to you." With a swift move I enter her from behind and it's like my cock just entered a sauna. I don't last long, neither of us do. And when I pull away, I position her hand where I want it, filming my come slipping out of her so that I can watch everything later. Pamela struggles to catch her breath, the whole bed's a mess, sheets ripped from the mattress and she rolls over on top of my chest, breathing as if she's forgotten how it's done.

"Did I do you right your first time, wifey?" I ask and she nods.

"I didn't even know I needed that," she whispers, "it's like you took what Ray…that bastard did and somehow turned it around and made it yours." She swallows. "How'd you know that's what you had to do?"

"I've been keeping a close eye on you," I smile and she shifts.

"Right. Think I'm supposed to be mad at you about that."

"What's the difference between me invading your body and invading your privacy? It's the same thing."

"Don't twist words like that," she says helplessly. "It's so…"

"Immoral?" I frown. "You knew who you married."

"Well yes…but," the air inflates out of her and she sags, "I guess you're right. There isn't much of a difference." She starts twirling her wedding ring. "And I guess that you knowing absolutely everything might come in handy…"

"It will. You'll never ever be alone. And nothing bad can ever happen to you again."

Pamela swallows. "I never told you this but the first time I saw you, I thought you'd be the one to save me. I was so broken back then but I when I looked at you all I saw was hope."

Our eyes meet, hers are wet at corners and fuck, I think mine are the same.

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," I say hoarsely.

"It's the truth," she nods, rests her lips against mine then flushes. "Hugo…do you um, look when I, you know…?"

"Don't worry about that," I say and squeeze her to me. "Besides, you have nothing to ashamed of," I grin agains her hair. "I'm a doctor."

"Surgeon," she reminds me, her voice muffled.

I pat her on the head and give her temple a kiss . "Let's not throw around titles."