Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (115 page)

“Dad tells me about them,” Zane calmly announces, no doubt feeling the tumultuous stew of my emotions. Sometimes I wonder if my son has a psychic touch, way beyond the norm of personal empathy. It’s as if he can
feel
what you are feeling- empathic.

“Does he volunteer it or do you have to ask?” I lean against Zane’s doorframe and watch the boys.

“Sometimes…” Torian unsurely says, “When we’re at a meeting, I want to round them all up, my parents, too. I want to tie them down and beat them until they feel the amount of pain they make us feel on a daily basis.”

That statement, out of everything, has tears stinging my eyes. It’s what’s wrong with me. I hurt people to feel better. I’m just thankful that I found people that need hurt in order to feel better- perfect symmetry. I don’t want that for Torian.

“Dad volunteers the information. He’s off again. I can’t sleep when he’s here. It’s impossible with his halves warring. Hot. Cold. Warm. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. Hot. Hot. Cold. All within minutes. Dad is fighting with himself. I ask him what he’s conflicted over, but he won’t answer.”

“You’re looking at his source of conflict- sources,” I say to Zane and Torian. “Ez lies to himself so much that he creates a different reality. When he is warring with himself, it’s because he is warring with the truth. I’ve o
ften wondered if there really are two halves of the whole or just a man who doesn’t want to deal with reality, so he uses it as an excuse to get away with all of this shit. I love the man with all of my heart, but sometimes, I don’t like him any more than I understand him.”

“And Tori…
you can pretty much sum up your parents with that statement as well. Just because we are adults doesn’t mean we know what we’re doing any more than we did when we were teenagers. It’s all a learning curve- we just get less ignorant along the way.”

“Are you saying we should just let them disrespect us because they are too stupid to realize they are doing it in the first place,” Torian spits out.

“No,” I softly murmur, “you should just pity them because they don’t know what they have, so they will never know what they are missing… and that is just sad, because I can’t imagine a life without the two of you. It makes me sad that Boyd and Greta are missing out, that Ez and Cort are missing out. But it’s their loss, because you have so much to give. But they don’t have anything to give to you guys, so you’re out nothing.”

“But pain,” Zane says. “Their absence gives pain.”

“Think of all the pain their presence provides. The pain of their absence is nothing in comparison,” I say, directing it to Torian. The boy was tormented by his parents constant fighting. While he may miss them, he will never miss the fighting.

“I’m sorry. If I could make it go away, I wouldn’t. I’ve been where you are. If my life had been differe
nt, I would’ve been raised by Tom and Lara with only Fate as my sister. I wouldn’t have suffered the pain, but I’d have missed out on the joy. I would have gone into business and missed out on being in the fire department and making a difference in people’s lives. There would have been no Boyd, no Bianca, no Whitt, and no Gwen. That would mean no Stanton, no Amelia, no Caleb, and they all changed my life for the better. But it would also mean no Torian, no Zane, and no Wil, and I couldn’t live without you.”

~Chapter One-Hundred-One~

I find my bedroom empty, no Wil at the telescope, and the shower is running. But what I do find is numeral book number sixteen by James Atwater, turned to a page that has this line:
Prostate massage is likened to rubbing a female’s g-spot.

I read on, but curiosity gets the better of me. I quickly text the author in question:
what would you think if you walked into your bedroom and some perverted author’s book was open on your bed to a page about prostate massage, and your husband was taking a shower outside of his personal hygiene routine.

Silenced:
I believe I’d open the bathroom door and find out…

Seriously, Grant?!!!!???!!!??

Silenced:
Seriously… If I didn’t know Wil so well, I’d say he was in the shower finding his A-spot after getting hot and bothered reading my writings- so hot and bothered that he didn’t hide the evidence before he ran to the shower to get off. But since I do know Wil so well… I’d say he’s washing up for you to find his A-spot. The book was his way of giving you a huge motherfucking hint.

You must think I’m an idiot.

Silenced:
No, just naïve. You have never lost your naiveté. It’s sweet and endearing and cute and hotter than fuck. Send me nudie pics!

GRANT!

Silenced
: I love it when you yell- you’re so feisty. *Rawr*

You’re a goddamned lunatic!

Silenced:
My name is not Ezra Zeitler, I take great offense. Mostly, I’m offended that that bastard got into your pussy when you keep cockblocking my attempts- and they are wicked attempts… and my cock is perfect. I just don’t understand why that crazy fuck got hundreds of tastes and I just got some fun memories of dirty talk… and I can’t even talk anymore, dammit!

Your tongue still works… and you DO speak. You’re just frustrated and horny.

Silenced:
You think? I’ve had sex once- in a billion and one years- and it was anal sex, while I was sharing the ports with Marcus. !!I’m a pussy lover!! I only like anal play if it’s my own asshole. Now I’ve resorted to playing Fight Club with my ex-mistress. She really hates my fucking guts right now. She practically ripped my dick off last week. God, I came like a sonofabitch, though. Help a guy out, and send a nudie pic. My imagination is only so vivid. I know you’re hotter now than you were at sixteen!

Really, did Regina
almost rip your dick off?

Silenced:
I shit you not! It’s still purple- have a look.

OMG! You did not just send me a dickpic!
Eww… that had to hurt. And, although it’s bruised purple, it is perfect.

Silenced
: Ah! That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to m
e
somewhere around round five of Fight Club, I realized the licks of pain were deliciously pleasurable. She was literally trying to de-man me when I came. In her defense, I had my fist up her snatch- all four fingers and the tip of the thumb- told you, pussy lover.

Sounds more like pussy destroyer. Wrong thing to say to me. My vag just put up a no vacancy sign.

Silenced:
Ugh! I made her cum! In my defense, Regina likes two dicks in one port. She can take a fist like a pro.

What? Two… two in like the same spot? Vag or asshole?

Silenced
: You love DP, darling. I know you and the Ezes engaged in it often… and for you, I’d even take the dark passage. But Regina, she can take two in the pussy without issue. Sorry, you couldn’t.

You make that sound like it’s a bad thing. I’d rather not have a snatch that flutters every time the wind blows. Holy bubblegum pussy, Batman.

Silenced
: You’re too cute. Send me nudie shots. I want one of your clit!!! Now! Please?

The shower just shut off. What do I do?

Silenced
: Milk Wil’s prostate. Hell, I’m so horny, I’d whack off to a pic of that. I can just pretend it’s your hand shoved up my ass. Yes, please send me pic of that! Yum!

You seriously need to get laid!

Silenced:
What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do, here? We’re sexting, not trading recipes! I’ve been rubbing one out and texting one-handed the entire time. You have no idea how many cell phones I’ve toasted when I’ve drenched them with my cum! Seven!

Sorry… I’ll send you a pic of my hand up Wil’s ass
if it will make you feel better.

Silenced:
I’ll make do with that… for now *sniffles* You have thirty minutes to send me a pic or I will get impatient and start sending dickpics to both your cells at one minute intervals until I get what I want. Ta-ta!

I guiltily jump a foot off the bed when Wil enters our bedroom after his ridiculously long shower. I actually started reading the passage in the book to get some pointers, and I’m still lost.

Deliciously naked, Wil stands at the edge of the bed, giving his cell phone a confused look. He cradles the cell in his palm, scowling at it. “Why is Grant sending me pictures of his cock, and why does it look like someone gnawed on it? Ouch,” Wil groans, hand cupping his package.

“I have no idea,” I innocently say. “He’s your buddy, not mine.”

“Hmm…” Wil murmurs, scrolling through his messages. “Why do I have a forward that says,
Sorry… I’ll send you a pic of my hand up Wil’s ass if it will make you feel better
.” Wil’s white-blue eyes gaze up at me through the fringe of his lashes. “And it’s from your cell number?”

“I haven’t the foggiest,” I say with a shrug. I close the heavy hardcover with a crack, and stow it on the nightstand.

“Unless you’ve turned ventriloquist, do I really want to know?” Wil scowls again when his phone chimes in his hand.

“Prolly not,” I say with a shake of my head.

“So… I don’t have to send him a pic of your clit to jerk off to instead of the pic of your hand up my ass? Because Grant’s blackmailing me for pussy shots… but since you don’t know what I’m talking about…”

“My pants are staying on,” I warn. “I’m not disrobing.”

“Ah,” Wil sighs. “So you do know what this is all about.”

“I admit nothing,” I state.

“And yet you deny nothing as well… interesting. Well, Grant will not get a picture of my asshole, and you have to sleep sometime. And he’s already seen your pussy…”

“That’s cruel,” I whine. “And here I was going to massage your bum!”

“And you still are,” Wil says with a flirtatious smirk- seductive Wil still scares the shit out of me. Wil crawls on the bed, his erection happily bobbing at his tummy. “And then I’m going to taste you while I recuperate… and then I’m going to fuck you bent over the edge of the bed… and then I’m going to bring us a snack… and then after we’re refueled, we’re going to start again at the beginning…”

My audible swallow ricochets around the room. The naughty gleam in Wil’s
eyes screams he’s being serious. I was used to the sexually frightened Wil. This new, insatiable, horny Wil petrifies me.
Danger… danger… danger
flashes in my mind… and if that doesn’t drench my panties, I don’t know what would!

“This is for you,” Wil shyly says, handing me a wad of latex and a tube of lubricant. His demeanor changes from predatory to hesitant. “I… I prepared… but this will make it easier.”

“I don’t know how to make this sexy,” I grumble. “I don’t know what I’m doing, so this will be more of an exploration.” I stare at the blue latex glove that came out of one of our med kits, and roll the tube around in my palm. I’m never bashful or shy. I’m more like a wrecking ball to the face. But right now, I’m feeling pretty dang timid. We’ve played around a bit. I’ve licked on him and pressed a fingertip inside him, but nothing more. This is the big leagues.

“If you don’t want to,” Wil whispers, looking down at our lavender bedding. “If you’re uncomfortable using your hand, I bought some stuff this afternoon. It’s completely-”

“I think I should start with my hand,” I say before he becomes self-conscious and loses all the faith he has in me. If I blow this, he will never come to me to meet his needs, and he won’t ever go to anyone else. I don’t want an unsatisfied husband. It’s my job to make sure his needs are met. Wil’s trusting me to at least try, and if we don’t like it, we won’t do it again.

I blinding reach over and rub his firm thigh, the coarse hairs tickling my palm. “I don’t know what I’m doing yet, so if we use an object, I could harm you. I know how much pressure my fingers are exerting and I can feel around for what I’m looking for... ya know, inside you,” I bashfully say, blushing like a sonofabitch.

“I don’t want the light on,” Wil quietly says, reaching for the lamp.

“Hold up,” I say as I slide from the bed. I kneel before my nightstand and get a scented candle out. I’ll need a little bit of light or I’ll be a bumbling idiot down there. I place the linen-scented candle on my nightstand and light it. I flick off the bedside lamps and a soft glow fills the room. No true light shines from the candle. It just leaves a shaft of light that barely illuminates the bedroom. 

Wil was busy while I was creating ambiance. He pulled the bedding back, laid a bath towel on top of the sheet, and he is self-consciously laying on it. I know we are entering freak out territory, and after seeing Dalton tonight, I realize how deep the pain goes. It’s on a soul-deep level. I also know that Wil never asks for anything. Sexually he is a giver, so if he is asking, it is really bothering him.

I’m still in aftercare-mode. I can feel Wil’s hesitancy and I want to ease him. I start to rub on his feet, but realize he’s not a girl. I don’t mean men don’t like
massages as much as women. I mean they are more visual creatures, and we need Wil aroused not relaxed and sleepy. I shrug out of my black, long-sleeved shirt, leaving my bra on. I peel my leather pants off my body, and refuse to shed my black lacy panties for security purposes.