Ermanno parked the car in the driveway and flicked the headlights off. I got out of the passenger's seat and as quickly as I could, I made it up the walkway to the front door and unlocked it.
Ermanno was behind me, offering me more support than he would ever know. I never wanted to return to this house and I never thought I would have to, but circumstances changed. We were now planting evidence.
"I can do it myself, love," Ermanno said behind me, his fingers gently rubbing into my back.
I shook my head. "No, I have to be a part of it too."
I wanted to be the reason that Michael was exposed, I wanted to help. I couldn't sit back and watch anymore.
I pushed the door open and walked through, entering the place I'd once thought of as a home. As Ermanno shut the door before me, I realized that this house didn't hold the power over me that it used to. It was meaningless now.
I looked at the living room and the dining room, memories of the different abuses I'd suffered in each room flying through my head, but they didn't break me. It was just a house, and its master was gone. It couldn't hurt me anymore.
I took a breath and walked into the dining room, placing the notepad at the spot Michael liked to sit. I smiled, it was like he staged it already.
The chair was pushed out and a half-drunk cup of coffee sat on the wooden table. I flicked the pen down absentmindedly like I knew Michael would, as he didn't have much care for anything.
"Done, baby girl?" Ermanno asked. We'd come to plant the notebook and that was all, but I had another idea as I stood there, analyzing the contents of the home and the man who owned them all.
I turned to look at my husband, smiling at him. "I was wondering if we could do one more thing."
"What would that be?"
I bit my lip and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the staircase.
"It's probably petty and immature given that you've captured him already, and justice has been served, but I would love it if you would fuck me on the bed."
We got to the top of the stairs and I looked at him hopefully, wishing he'd say yes.
Ever since Ermanno had posed this idea of coming back to the house, I kept reliving this fantasy of him fucking me all across this house.
Not just as a petty "fuck you" to Michael, but also for me, for my healing, to take my power back in the house that had stripped it all from me.
"Are you sure that's what you want? I want to, but only for the right reasons, love."
I nodded my head and reached up to cup his cheek. "I know it's trivial, but I think it would help me as well. This house is the physical representation of the loss of myself. I want to take my power back. I want to be able to have a choice here, where I'd never had before. I want to choose who I let inside my body and when, and I think it would be good for you, to help me assert power over Michael."
He bent and kissed me, gently dipping his tongue inside my mouth before pulling away.
"Show me the room," he said.
I grabbed his hand again and pulled him toward the room that always caused me the most fear. I'd spent many restless nights here, crying myself to exhaustion after Michael had used my body for his pleasure.
I felt empathy for my past self as I walked into the room, recalling the countless nights I'd begged him to stop before I'd stopped talking at all. My pain didn't consume me though, not now that I had the honorable man standing beside me.
Ermanno's face was pinched in a scowl. He didn't like being in here, and neither did I, but we were about to create a new memory in here. One I much preferred to the others.
"Before you jump me," he said, putting his hands up to stop me from kissing him, "we need to do this right."
He slid a pair of gloves on and took the pillows off the bed, as well as the comforter, extra blanket, and top sheet. All that was left was the mattress protector and fitted sheet on top.
"Oh gross," I said, as I saw the sheets.
"What?"
I pointed to the red blood stain in the middle. Michael had put the sheets from the night he'd taken my virginity back onto the bed. What a sadistic fuck.
What Ermanno and I were about to do on those sheets would make this revenge so much sweeter.
My husband pulled me to him and slammed his lips on mine, claiming me in a possessive kiss.
I kissed him back, scratching at his chest and back to be as close to him as possible. He backed me onto the bed, moving me to sit down, where he peeled my shirt and bra off. Then he dropped to his knees in front of me and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth while he worked on the button of my jeans.
He switched nipples, and I moaned and arched my back, pushing my chest into his face. He rewarded me by biting down on my nipple, making me squeal and squirm. I rocked my hips, tipping my soaking center toward his body, telling him I wanted him inside me.
"Patience, Fiore," Ermanno teased, blowing cool air against my nipple.
My hand gripped his thick strands of hair and I pulled as he kissed down my stomach, dipping his tongue into my navel.
He had managed to undo my jeans and began pulling them off of me while I pulled his shirt over his shoulders.
"I love you," I said as I discarded his shirt.
"I love you, too," he said. I moaned loudly when his tongue licked across my panty-covered lips.
"Ermanno," I whined.
He licked me a few more times before circling his tongue around my clit, making me pull even harder at his hair.
"You like that, baby?"
"Yes," I moaned, sounding breathy and horny.
He stood up and asked where Michael kept the towels. I pointed to the bathroom and he grabbed an older, tattered one and asked me to stand up. He slid the towel under my ass and then spread my legs again.
He slid his fingers under the waistband of my underwear and pulled them off, exposing my soaking center to the air of the room.
My husband wasted no time before his mouth was on me, licking up and down my slit, circling his tongue around my opening while his nose bumped against my clit.
I pressed his head into me as tightly as I could and rocked my hips, riding his face and his talented tongue.
"Ahh," I gasped when he slid the muscle into my opening, fucking me in the same manner he would with his cock. It felt divine and when he used his thumb to rub circles against my clit, I tipped my head back and moaned into the air.
"Ermanno!" I squealed, for no particular reason other than that he made me feel so damned good, so desired.
He pulled his tongue from me and licked up my slit before sucking my clit into his mouth. "Yes!"
My eyes closed and my legs spasmed when he inserted three fingers into me at once. I came apart against him immediately, gyrating my pussy against his face as I rode my orgasm.
"Fuck baby," Ermanno praised as he rewarded me with gentle licks to my clit as my orgasm came to an end.
He gathered me in his arms and pulled me against his chest. Then he moved the towel toward the middle of the bed and placed me down on top of it. I assumed it was so we wouldn't leave any fluids on the bed in case the police decided to test the sheets for specimens.
He kicked his jeans and boxer briefs off as well and nudged my knees apart. Then without warning, he slammed his thick cock inside me, making me arch off the bed and scream his name.
He pummeled into me relentlessly and I tried my hardest to keep up with his pace as I rocked my hips against his every time he thrust back inside me.
The bed was squealing underneath the weight of our movements and the noise was funny, but I couldn't laugh from how intensely I was moaning.
My legs were locked against his back and the heels of my feet dug into him to keep myself grounded. His thrusts were relentless, searching, and passionate.
"You feel so good," Ermanno moaned as he withdrew and then slammed back inside.
"So do you," I whispered, unable to make my voice any louder for the time being.
He brought his hand between our bodies and flicked my clit with his rough fingers, making me whimper below him.
"Ohh, my love." My voice was breathy and seductive; it barely sounded like it belonged to me. My hands had a mind of their own, moving from his chest to his face to his head to his shoulders and his back. I simply wanted to touch as much of him as I could.
"I'm going to cum soon, Fiore," he grunted into my ear and I nodded in agreement. So was I.
He thrust into me three more times before both his body and mine tensed and we released at the same time.
Dropping his forehead down to mine, he kissed me, though his kiss was soft and tender this time.
"I love you so fucking much," he said.
"I love you, too, baby."
After we caught our breath, he pulled out of me and wiped his dripping cock off on the towel before walking to the bathroom and returning with toilet paper. He wiped me off and then flushed the toilet paper.
"Thank you," I said.
He nodded and pulled me up off the bed. "I enjoyed it. You want me to tell him what we did baby? I'll gladly tell him when we get back."
I smiled at his tone and nodded. "Yes, I want him to know."
I wanted to be there when Ermanno told him what we did in his house, in his bed. In the same bed he thought he'd made me his in.
He kissed me again and then helped me get dressed before dressing himself. Then we put the bed back together how we found it and brought the now damp towel with us.
I took one last look at the house before turning and locking the door behind me. Then I raised a middle finger to the door. "Fuck you," I said.
****
We set the blanket up right in front of their graves and Ermanno sat down beside me.
"This is them," I said with a bit of emotion in my voice. How I wished my parents could be here, to see me now; happily married to a man who had devoted his life to me.
"Hello," He greeted as he looked between the three gravestones. "I'm Ermanno. Ansley's husband."
I giggled and leaned into his shoulder, happy that he could be there with me on the third anniversary of my parents and my brother's deaths. It was unbelievably difficult to process, thinking that they had been gone for so long, but Ermanno being there made it easier.
I'd asked Michael to come before on the first anniversary, but he had something else to do that was more important. I didn't bother asking on the second anniversary. Now, I didn't have to ask. Ermanno wanted to come with me.
It was rather good timing that we could be up here to both plant the letter and visit for their anniversary as it would have been quite a long drive if we had to make two trips.
We had a small picnic that day, and I told him many stories of my family from when I was younger. He too shared stories of his adolescence, though he was a much more rambunctious child than I was.
When it was time to leave, Ermanno asked if he could have a moment alone at their graves; he said he wanted to talk to my father.
I didn't know what he said, I could only assume that maybe he'd asked for my father's permission to marry me, or promised his devotion to me, but it did not matter. Tears gathered in my eyes as I walked to the car, grateful that someone as genuine and honorable as Ermanno was mine forever.
****
Ermanno's POV
Four days earlier:
"Fuck you! I've only taken this week off. When I don't show up to work next Monday someone will know something's wrong. They'll come looking for me!"
An idea transpired. He had notified his place of work that he was taking paid time off for this week and that he'd be back Monday of the following week.
Michael would need a story. Unlike Eloise's father, who we were able to make vanish quite easily as no one gave two shits about the drunk bastard, Michael had acquaintances in his uppity office. Other white-collar fucks who at least pretended to give a shit about him, who'd do the 'right' thing and call the cops to report a missing person.
"No one will come looking for you Michael," I promised.
"You so sure about that?"
I nodded, unphased by his attempts to control the situation.
"Go get a notebook and a pen," I said to Dante who stood a few feet away. He nodded and turned to leave.
"Which hand do you write with Michael?" I knew he was left-handed already by his mannerisms, but I wanted to see what he'd say, if he'd lie or not.
"Why does that matter?"
"Answer the question. Right or left?"
"Right, you piece of-"
I cut him off by slamming my steel-toed boot into his kneecap.
"Fuck!" He screamed.
"You're left-handed, Michael. Why won't you be truthful with me?" I asked. "I don't like liars."
He glared up at me with specks of dried blood covering his skin. Dante returned with the notepad and paper.
I set it down on the table in front of Michael.
"You're going to write something for me."