26. Layne

Chapter twenty-six

Layne

Thanksgiving Day

D o I want to get out of this bed? No, I don’t. Was I prepared for such an emotional response to getting my period? Fucking nope. Yet, here I am laying in bed, the sun already up. Wes said he’d bring me some food after letting his parents know I wasn’t feeling well.

I can feel the dark thoughts of my subconscious creeping in. You couldn’t even get pregnant. If you had stayed dead, you wouldn’t have to face this disappointment. As much as Wes tried to hide his disappointment, I knew he was. I could feel it.

I’m lost in my thoughts when a gentle rap on the door reverberates through the room, jolting me back to reality. Wes. With a creak, the door opens, and I shift my gaze towards it. Wes’s mom enters the room with a warm smile on her face. “Morning, Layne dear. Can I come in?”

I nod .

“Wes said you’re feeling under the weather. So I thought I’d pop in and check on ya.” Her voice is soothing, how I would expect a loving mother’s voice to be. I shift in the bed, feeling wetness in between my legs. Oh, God no. This cannot be happening. First, I break their plate and now I am going to ruin a set of their sheets. What a great impression you are leaving them with, Layne.

Wes’s mom approaches the bed and I try to hide my embarrassment, but it’s impossible to ignore the blood that now staining the sheets. I feel a wave of shame wash over me, as if my body is betraying me once again. I muster up a weak smile and apologize.

“Oh, I’m not sick, I–I got my period. I’m pretty sure I’ve just ruined your sheets. I am so sorry, Mrs. Larimore.” My gaze falls to the bedding, utterly embarrassed.

“Ma, I’m Ma dear. Mrs. Larimore is my mother-in-law. Oh, Layne, don’t worry about that,” Wes’s mom reassures me, her kindness radiating through her words. “Accidents happen, especially when it comes to our monthlies. Let me take care of it for ya.”

Her understanding and compassion bring tears to my eyes. It’s moments like these that remind me of the love and support I have in my life now, even when I feel at my lowest. Wes’s mom gently guides me out of bed into the bathroom. Blood trickles down my legs. I’ve never had my period start out this heavy, so this isn’t normal.

“Do you want me to get Wes?” she asks, taking in the state of me.

“No, I can manage. Thank’s, Ma.” I say, with another weak smile on my face. A cramp takes me by surprise, contorting my smile to a grimace. I strip from my pajamas and I can’t help but reflect on the emotional turmoil that is brewing inside of me. The disappointment of not getting pregnant, the weight of my self-doubt, it’s all becoming overwhelming. I need to cope with all of this somehow, without self-destructing .

Wes’s mom finishes changing the sheets and pops her head back in the bathroom. “Give me those, love, and I’ll toss them in the wash. Do you need some pain relievers?”

I nod, handing her my bloody clothes.

“I’ll have Wes bring some in with your food. Rest up, Layne. Take your time to heal, knowing that we’re here to support ya. If you still aren’t ready to be up for dinner, we’ll bring it to ya.”

I close my eyes and let the exhaustion wash over me. I feel a sense of gratitude for the love and understanding that surrounds me. I surrender to sleep, anticipating Wes’s return to the room.

I wake up to Wes coming into the room, carrying a tray of food. He looks at me with concern, his eyes filled with love. “How are you feeling, Ma Petite Mort ?“ he asks, placing the tray at the foot of the bed.

I manage a weak smile, grateful for his presence. “I’m fine,” I reply, my voice still groggy from sleep. “Last night, I didn’t use the pad, which was a poor choice.”

“You chose poorly,” Wes says, imitating the Knight from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

God, my husband is a nerd.

Wes sits down on the edge of the bed and gently reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “Seriously though, you’re okay,” he says softly. “I hated that look on your face last night. I don’t want to say the wrong thing here, but we’ll try again. If that’s what you want, baby. Or we don’t. If it’s too much, we’ll stop.”

An overwhelming wave of emotion hits me and tears well up in my eyes. “We can try again,” I whisper, reaching out to hold his hand. “I think I know what I want now. I’m still a little skeptical, but I know I want this with you.”

He squeezes my hand gently, his love and support radiating through his touch. “Okay, you’re the boss. ”

I look over at the tray, nudging his arm. “So, what did you bring me?”

Wes turns to grab the tray, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Well, having watched you for three months prior to us getting together...”

I interrupt him, holding up my finger. “Stalked me, you mean?” I reply playfully.

“Potato-patato,” he shrugs, “I notice you eat certain things when you’re on your period, so I made sure yesterday when I was at the store to grab what I could.” Wes pulls the tray over to us, revealing two energy drinks in the blue raspberry flavor I love, a bag of spicy chips, and a bag of sour belt candy. I have to admit, he’s quite observant.

“Why are there two energy drinks? I can’t handle two of them, Wes. I’ll have a heart attack,” I joke, raising an eyebrow.

Wes grabs one, cracking it open, and takes a long swig. His face puckers, eyes squinting at the sourness. “For the love of all that’s unholy, how the fuck do you drink these?” he exclaims.

I chuckle, grabbing the can and taking a sip. “Ah, delicious,” I say, smacking my lips. I reach for the pain relievers on the tray and wash them down with another sip of the drink. “Thank you. I appreciate you. So much,” I express my gratitude.

“Ma says dinner is at three, so we’ve got a few hours to kill,” Wes informs me. “She and Da are going to take Ronan for a walk. So…what shall we do in the meantime? Movie? Reading?” He nudges me with his elbow trying to keep the mood light.

“Reading sounds good, but too much effort.” I say, stretching my arms above my head.

Wes crawls over me, stopping to kiss my lips, and grabs my Kindle from the nightstand. “I’ll read to you then.”

Say what? Did he say that he’ll read to me?

It isn’t until I realize he has my Kindle open that I hear the faint sound of his finger scrolling through my reading library. All of my erotic horror, smutty novels, and gruesome splatterpunk books are just ready for him to peruse. Leaning back against the headboard, he catches my eye and I instinctively bite my lip. Wes, after setting down the Kindle, reaches over to his bedside table and picks up a black case. He carefully opens it and takes out his stylish pair of black-rimmed glasses. He pushes his glasses up his nose, and I can’t help but stare with my mouth agape as he gazes at me from above them.

“Shall I begin now?” He asks, his voice dripping with seduction.

Did the heater kick on, because goddamn! When you think your husband couldn’t possibly get any sexier. He does, and he hasn’t even started reading.

Wes picks the device back up and, with a straight face, reads to me. “Such a pretty pussy. I can’t wait to see it filled with all our cum. Is that what you want, our dirty little whore? You want all three of us to cum inside you?”

Deceased. Hello big guy in the sky, can you beam me up? My husband has just given me a heart attack from hearing him read from my smutty book.

With a sly smirk, Wes lowers his glasses and arches an eyebrow at me. I stare back at him and I feel my face undoubtedly flush, turning a deep shade of red.

“ Ma Petite Mort ,“ Wes coos, his voice low and seductive, “this is a very dirty book. I hope you’re not getting any ideas about me sharing you with anyone.”

I shake my head. “Never.” I say as I crawl backwards on the bed. With a ravenous look in his eyes, Wes set the kindle down and slowly crawls towards me.

“Good, because I don’t share. If you want all your pretty holes filled, Layne, it’ll be me that fills them.” Wes hovers above me. I can feel the intensity in his gaze, his lips just inches away from mine. “I’ll gag you, fuck your pretty little pussy while a plug’s in your ass, then when you think you can’t handle anymore.” He leans in, pressing his lips to my ear. “I’ll fuck your ass, and have you coming again. ”

“Ohhh, fuck,” I breathe. He leans over me, his tongue licking the shell of my ear. His hard cock presses into my belly as he hovers over me. “Wes…we can’t. I’m…”

“If you think for one second, I won’t fuck you because you’re bleeding. You’re living in a dream world. I will eat and fuck my pussy if I want to. Bleeding or not. The only thing a period stops is a sentence, Layne.”

Hunger in his eyes, Wes grips the waistband of my sleep shorts, hooking his fingers in my underwear. Slowly, he drags them down. “Are you wearing a pad and a disc?”

“Just a -a pad.” I stutter. He tosses the shorts and underwear to the floor. I lay there bare from the waist down.

Wes pulls down his sweats and boxer briefs to under his ass, stroking his cock as he gazes down at me. With his free hand, he runs his hand over my pussy, shoving two fingers inside. I buck against his hand, my clit aching for some friction, as his fingers stroke my front wall. “Fuck, you’re always so fucking tight.” He grips himself tighter, his stomach and forearm muscles flexing as he does.

I feel my orgasm building and if he keeps going; I’m going to come all over his hand. “Wes,” I moan. “Please.”

He takes his hand off his cock, reaching up to pull his shirt over his head. Wes withdraws his fingers from my pussy and tosses his shirt to the side. We both look to see that his entire hand is covered in blood. Parting his lips, he brings his hand to his mouth, pushing the two digits inside, sucking and savoring the taste of my blood. Wes lets out a deep groan of pleasure as he draws his fingers out, the blood now dripping down his chin.

Without saying a word, his hand grips my thigh, dragging me toward him. Positioning himself at my entrance, he thrusts into me in one fluid motion. I gasp, feeling so full in every way possible.

“Listen to me, Ma Petite Mort. You are mine and only mine. If I want to fuck you while you’re bleeding, I will. If you have fantasies you want to explore, then they will be with me. No other man will touch you the way I do. No man will ever touch you, period.“ He drives into me, pushing my head over the edge of the bed. Blood rushes to my head, creating a light tingling sensation.

“I never want anyone else,” I whimper, pressure building deep in my core. Wes pumps in and out of me at an unrelenting pace, filling the room with the wet sound of our bodies colliding, accompanied by a cacophony of groans, grunts, and whimpers.

Wes wraps his hand around my throat, increasing the fuzzy feeling that is already swirling in my head.

“Good, because there will never be another woman for me, Layne. If you die, I die with you.”

When my orgasm breaks, it has me in a free fall, the added pressure from my head hanging off the bed and Wes’s grip on my throat, heightening every pulse. My pussy clenches around him as he groans, spilling himself inside me. After a few moments of heavy breathing, he drags my head back onto the bed and pulls out of me.

“I guess we owe my Ma a new comforter.” He shrugs, looking between our legs. I hold my hand out to him for help. With a firm grip, he pulls me up to a sitting position. I groan when I see the bloody mess all over the cream colored comforter.

“Great, first a set of sheets and now the comforter. We’re going to need to buy bedding every time we visit.” I chuckle.

“Ready to have some turkey, baby? I’m starving.” Wes chuckles as he climbs off the bed, heading to the bathroom to clean up.

Sometimes I don’t know what I am going to do with him.