Tragedy On Silverdale Road

Fucks Pt. 2

The world stops spinning on it's axis. Bryson's hands clamp onto my hips harder to spin me to face him. My entire face is tight in anger. The hopelessness floods back home.

Taking the test.

Excited to tell Bryson.

Waiting for him to come home.

Him never coming.

Losing everyone.

"What did you just say?" He asks, his voice softer than before. "You were pregnant?"

I try to fight his touch, try to push back everything I'm feeling. But his fingers dig into me and my head spins. "Three months and counting. I was so happy. So beyond happy. But you left. Everyone fucking left."

"What happened to--."

"Gone."

He stumbles back, shocked. I turn back to my lunch, stirring softly and flipping the sandwiches so the other side toasts.

"W-What happened?"

I shrug, my emotionless walls cracking as the seconds go by. He always knew how to get to me. "Something bad." I can feel my eyes water. My breathing staggers. My head becomes fuzzy. I grip onto the edge of the stove, the memory becoming too much for me. Everything coming back, everything resurfacing at the same time kills me.

"What." It's not a question. He wants to know what I did to lose his child.

"Rape," I whimper. "Raped so hard I miscarried."

My head hits the ground before I can see his reaction.

➖✖➖

"She's fine."

"Her head hit the ground pretty hard."

"Happens every week. She doesn't know how to handle emotions."

"What happened to her, Sylvia? She used to be so different. Happy."

It's quiet. My eyes flutter open. Sylvia looks down to press another ice pack to my forehead. I swat her away and sit up. Bryson is at my side in a second flat. His calloused hands cup my face. "You scared me, Midnight. Really fucking scared me."

"Well I'm fine now. Go back to your club." I stand up and dust my clothes off. "Thank you for staying. You can leave now." Sylvia does as I say and skips off. Bryson, however, stays put.

I tuck a cigarette behind me ear. My eyebrow raises at the glaring man in my bedroom. He doesn't go away, but instead comes closer. His hands find my hips again. "Like hell I'm leaving, Kitten. I need every detail you can remember about that night. I will kill the fucker who touched you and killed my kid."

"No you won't."

He looks startled. "Oh yes I will." I shake my head and stomp off, him following me. His hand reaches my shoulder and I lose my will. I pull his neck down and kiss him. Hard.

Our hands paw at each other, our breathing heavy, gasps flying around. The passion explodes, all the memories of us going at it like rabbits coming back. I've fucking missed him. I've missed his sweet torture. Overall, I've missed his cöck in my püssy.

He's the first to pull away. "I don't have a condom, Kitten. I can't pull out once I get in that püss." My core throbs at his words. Fuck. No pill. No condom. "Fuck. Fuck!"

Without thinking I slide my hand down his taut abs to his big package. My hand squeezes his manhood, causing him to growl under his breath. "But I need you. I need to feel you. I need you to prove to all those other pathetic men that you're the only one who can make me cüm." I nibble on his ear lobe. "Papi, please."

My body aches. I'm so turned on it hurts. He looks conflicted. His blue eyes wide with want but flickers of responsibility imbedded too. His hands rub up and down my back. "I will only fuck you raw if you do one thing for me."

"What is it?" I whine, needing him between my thighs. "Anything."

"Marry me." I whimper as he rubs me over my panties. "Become Missus Jones like you should have years ago."

"Fuck it. Fine. Now pull your pants down."

He smirks that smirk only he knows can break my walls. He dips down to bring me into a hot kiss, his hands pulling at my shirt. Within minutes we're both naked, yearning for the other. He ducks between my open legs as I lie on the floor of my living room. His warm tongue invades my pink püssy and I gasp. His finger works me fast, not giving me time to breath as my toes curl. Orgasm after orgasm blurs my mind.

Bryson climbs over me, his cöck dangling just inches from when I need it most. He peppers kisses over my breasts. "I need you to promise me something else."

A scream bubbles up in my chest, but I decide to play along. "What. Please, Bryson."

"Stop drinking. Stop smoking. Stop everything."

"W-Why?" His finger tweak my hard nipples. "Bryson please tell me."

"Because I plan on reimpregnation." I moan at the thought. All these years, so lonely, so sad. All I needed was some cöck and a baby.

"Just do it." I growl. "Fucking do it."

The tip of his member pokes at my pink folds. Again, I whimper. He smirks proudly at how recked I am. Then he does it-- In one swift thrust he's inside me. I mewl, scratching the wood floor.

"Still the tightest cünt on the face of the Earth."

"Just for you, baby." This time he's the one scratching the floor because of me squeezing the fuck out of him. "Now get to fucking work."