M A T U R E A U D I E N C E S O N L Y!
18+
I sat beside Chris in the ER, twisting the strap on my purse, until the poor thing began to tear from the base. His uncomfortable wincing and slight shifting in his seat only made my anger rise. Nobody in this damn hospital was rushing to help us, other than a measly little cloth to prevent blood from transferring onto other surfaces, and a cup of water. It had been twenty minutes since I had turned in the clipboard with all of his information on it. Twenty minutes since I used up the last of my politeness. The poor man couldn't so much as hold his pen, could they not see the pain he was in?
He did play it off well, sitting tall in the seat, and occasionally flashing me a comforting smile. I could understand wanting to look tough, but he didn't have to prove himself to me. He was already a freaking beast in my eyes. I mean, he drove himself home immediately after being stabbed.
"I swear to god if-"
"Peach, hush, I'm fine. They'll see me when they can, okay?" Chris examined my flush cheeks and pursed lips as I stared hatefully at the hospital staff. The sight made him grin, finding amusement in my panic.
"You're not fine." I turned my head over to him and snapped out a whisper, completely uninterested in arguing.
He lifted his shirt to reveal two small holes in his side, leaking out blood. "See, it ain't that bad."
"Put your shirt down." I yanked on the hem, covering him back up. "Do not stop putting pressure on it. I swear if you think you're some kind of superhero who doesn't -"
"Christian Blake?" A small nurse, wrapped in a disposable yellow emergency robe looked up from her clipboard at Chris and I.
"Oh, great." I huffed, standing from the chair. Our eyes met and I squinted out a hateful glare, nearly snarling at her as I strode out of the lobby. "It's about fuckin' time."
Chris lifted slowly from his chair, taking slow steps down the hall until we were in our exam room. He sat himself down on the bed and grinned at the nurse, looking over her petite figure. "So, should I get naked now?"
"Oh, fuck off." I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath.
She blushed a cherry red and began typing on the sleek laptop that sat on a bulky rolling device. "You wanna tell me your birthday, Mr. Blake?"
"July 30th, 1991."
So he is a Leo.
"Alright, very good, Mr. Blake. So, what have we got here?"
"I got stabbed." Chris grinned, showing off his gallant smile, and eye-catching dimples.
"How many times are y'all gonna ask us that?" I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. "We've been here for-"
"I understand, miss, we're doing everything we can to-"
"So, start already." I bit out, leaning forward in my seat. "You're just gonna leave him to bleed out?"
Chris watched me with wonder in his eyes, seeing my attitude get worse and worse. My stress level was off the charts. I had practically channeled a part of Chris' temper.
I hate hospitals.
With an exhausted look, she ignored my comments and focused down on the task at hand. She took a pair of scissors and cut down the back of his shirt, peeling it off of him. "How is your pain level?" She asked, gently touching a gloved hand to the skin surrounding the bloody holes in his side.
"Feeling pretty nice, darlin', thank you." Despite trying to sound suave, his teeth stayed clenched shut, letting her apply a fresh piece of gauze to go over the wounds.
"It doesn't appear that you hit any major organs, but we do have to get you stitched up and-"
"You gonna give me some morphine?" He grinned through his pain.
"The doctor will determine what we need to do for pain." She said stiffly, her eyes flicking from Chris to me. "For now, you need to keep applying pressure and Dr. Morgan will be in here to get you all stitched up."
"Are you joking me right now?"
I could strangle this woman right here and now.
"He's just finishing up with another patient on the third floor." She nodded at me, speaking slowly like I was a child who needed careful exaggerated diction. "He will be as fast as he can, mam."
"I don't really care for the tone you're using."
Instead of fueling my fire, she smiled and threw Chris's bloody shirt into the biohazard bin, then finally left the room. As any smart person would do, especially with my temper being tested so carelessly. I'm sure I didn't look like I was enjoying myself, being that I am covered in my boyfriend's blood.
Boyfriend?
"How are you really feeling?" Seeing him sit so stiffly, obviously in a great amount of pain, was challenging enough for me to just watch. I can't imagine how he might be feeling.
"I'm still doing just fine baby, just ready for that morphine drip."
"What does it feel like right now?" I blinked quickly, crossing my legs over each other. "What's it like? Is it numb?"
He let out a short laugh, eyes twinkling at me with tenderness. "No, it don't feel numb." Slowly, he peeled away the gauze and showed me the deeper puncture. Two inches long, at most, but who knows how deep. "It feels like it's on fire."
Wincing as I caught sight of the wound, I turned my head away for a moment. "My Lord Jesus, that's horrible."
"It looks bad, but I promise it ain't nothin' but a lil' poke."
"But it feels bad, right? I'm sorry," I stopped myself, wiping my forehead anxiously. "I just want to know you're gonna be okay. That's all, and I'm sorry-"
"Bri." He stopped me, holding out his free hand. "Look at me. Look at my hand, okay?"
My eyes were hesitant as they dropped to his palm, outstretched flat towards me. "Christian, what the hell am I looking at right now?"
"I'm not shaking." He pulled his hand back to his lap. "Yeah, it hurts, but I'm tellin' you I can handle it."
"You're crazy, you know that? Absolutely wild, and just one of a kind." Sarcasm dripped from my tone, but I felt it deep in my gut. Who acts this nonchalant when threatened with the possibility of death? Surely, if he had been stabbed just a little more inward, it would've hit something. What if I lost him tonight?
Something would die in me.
"So are you, girl. Don't get me started."
"Who did this to you, Chris?" I swallowed hard, pinching my leg as it bounced up and down.
"Well, that's what I wanna talk to you about." He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "The cops are gonna talk to me about this, okay? They're gonna report this- the hospital is, and I can't be saying what really happened."
"Okay." I chewed on my lip, becoming aware of the constant tapping of my flip flop against the white tile floor. "So, what are we going to say?"
"We were out on a date and while we were walking to the car, a guy wearing a black hoodie with blue stripes on the side tried to rob us."
"Alright, and what about the fact that I have my purse and your wallet?"
He flashed a smile. "We tell 'em that I punched him real good, and got our shit back. Just let me do the talkin', okay?"
"Alright, but listen, if I need to talk, I got it." I stood up from my chair and began pacing the floor, walking from wall to wall.
"Yeah, you're a great liar too. Absolutely filthy." Groaning, he lifted the gauze and inspected the laceration with unease. "Bri, you gotta calm down, princess. Come on now."
"No." I stopped in my tracks, pointing my finger at him. "We've been waiting for too long. They need to get that closed up, god damn it."
"Get your ass-"
With a huff, I stormed to the door and ripped it open. Stomping into the hallway, I cupped my hands around my mouth in hopes to project my voice. "Anytime y'all want to do your fucking jobs, would be real nice."
I was then approached by a tall middle-aged nurse, who looked to have spent many of her years behind that desk. "Excuse me, mam, you need to keep your voice down. There-"
"He got stabbed twice. How long do we have to wait to get some fucking stitches? Shit, you could stand in there and just look pretty-that would be a god damned start."
She blinked languidly, raising her eyebrows as if she wasn't about to take any of my attitude. "I suggest you'd calm yourself down."
"This is just ridiculous." I rolled my eyes and spun around on my heel, storming back into the room.
Chris grinned at me, a lazy grin, but he was enjoying my little outburst. Naturally, he didn't take it seriously, but at least he wore that handsome smile for me to look at. "Sit down, Peach. You wanna come here?"
"No," I grunted, as my feet took slow steps over to him. "I can't sit."
"Mr. Blake?" A soft tap at the door caught my attention, and a woman in a white coat strode into the room. "How are you this evening?"
"Been better, doc." Chris shrugged, pulling the gauze away to show Dr. Morgan the mangled scene underneath.
"Do you see that?" I snarled, gesturing towards Chris. "I won't stand by and let you ignore him for another minute."
"Ah, yes. I was informed you aren't very happy. I understand with situations like these-"
"I'm not interested in all of your bullshit excuses. Why are we still talking about this?" My fists clenched at my sides, fingernails digging into my closed palm.
"I will call security, and you'll be escorted out of the hospital." She nodded, composed despite my outburst.
"I am his wife." I snapped, ignoring Chris as he choked out a laugh. "You absolutely will not throw me out."
"Bri, sit down. Let her fix me up, okay?"
At least she was here now, and ready with all of her surgical equipment. It was useless to keep bullying the hospital staff, especially with the pain Chris was facing. I flipped my hair back over my shoulder and flounced over to my chair. "Fine."
-
Eighteen stitches later he was stitched up and high as fuck on pain meds. Dr. Morgan refused to give him the morphine, stating that it seems unnecessary. Of course, I bit my tongue, but Chris on the other hand argued with her until they settled on a ten-day prescription of 10mg Oxycontin.
Just what he needed.
Surprisingly enough, we were discharged without being questioned by any law enforcement. Free to leave after Chris was tightly bandaged up, and sedated beyond belief.
He sat with his head leaning against the window frame, smoking his second cigarette. The first one he lit had fallen from his fingers and down into the street due to him nodding off. The moment we left the hospital, he took it upon himself to take an additional three more pills, for a grand total of 40mg.
"So how do you feel now?" I asked, yawning as I shifted the truck down to a stop at the traffic light.
"Like I want a blowjob and a nap."
"That would be the opiates talking."
"No, I'm dead serious. You look so beautiful." He languidly turned his head to me, smiling with hazy, pinned eyes. "I'm so fucking horny, baby. I just wanna bury myself in you."
"It's almost five am. We both need to sleep and you know that." I let out a harder yawn, eyes watering as I did so.
"I feel so good though, don't you want me?"
"Of course I do, you know that."
"So, why you sound like you don't?" He blinked slowly after a long pause. Not seconds later, his head fell as he eased out of reality, dropping his cig in his lap. "Ah, fuck."
"I'm worried about you taking these Oxys, Chris." I watched as he swiped the ash from his denim, tossing the remainder of his cig out the window.
"Don't be, it's only a couple doses."
"So you're telling me, that after you binge on what you have now, you won't be needing, or wanting anymore?" I had every reason to be skeptical, especially knowing his past with pain meds.
"Come on, have a little faith in me." A lazy smile drug across his tired face.
"Look, I want you to know that I will never do what Vanessa did. I promise that to you, I never want to see you get bad." My Momma has been through too much with her addiction. A horrible amount of loss and emptiness. I couldn't fathom the idea of him going down that same road. The alcoholic tendencies were something we both needed to overcome, but opiates-
Those were different.
He moved his hand to my leg, sliding it down to my inner thigh. Watching with those faded eyes, he inched his pointer finger under the bottom of my shorts, tenderly rubbing the skin underneath. "You are nothing like her, Briella. You are an absolute angel."
I tore my eyes off of the road and looked over at him, my cheeks turning a soft rose color. He never calls me Briella, but it sounded so loving and warm. I was infatuated, head over heels, shivering as his lips pressed soft kisses against my arm. "Christian, I care about you. I really do, so much."
"Well, you better." He gently squeezed my thigh, making me smile without even thinking about it. "You're my wife, ain't ya?"
Anything, if it means I'm with you.
-
We spent the entirety of the day, snuggled close to each other in my bed until it came time for me to wake up for work. The pain meds had Chris completely zonked out, snoring like a lion in a hollow den. My ridiculously loud alarm, paired with a persistent vibration wasn't even enough to wake Chris from his deep slumber.
With work at six o'clock, and it being just a quarter 'till five, I felt a gloomy sensation carry over me. I didn't want to leave Chris alone here like this. He needed someone to make sure that he didn't get up and start moving around like nothing had happened. God knows the second that man gets up from his nap, he won't sit still for the life of him.
But that wasn't reason enough for me to miss work. No excuse was satisfactory for Daddy and Marcello. They had made it abundantly clear that in order to be who they wanted me to be, tardiness should never be an issue. I had no choice.
Sitting at my vanity in my bedroom, I lined my lips with a dark red lipstick. A lovely contrast to the white lace lingerie I had chosen to wear for the night. My winged eyeliner was bolder than I usually did it, but it was a refreshing look. I actually felt beauty in the glamorous simplicity of my makeup.
The slight glow in my eyes was that of love, and I knew that I wore it well.
I tiptoed around my bedroom with my white sheer stockings in hand, the final touch that completed this outfit.
As quietly as I could, I set my foot on the edge of the ottoman. Carefully smoothing the light fabric up over my leg, I moved slowly to assure no tears or snags.
"You keep moving all slow, and sexy like that, my fuckin' dick is gonna be so deep in your sweet pussy. God damn." Chris peeked at me through his arm that covered his face, devilish eyes shining through to me.
"I have to be careful." I shrugged with a smile, straightening the lace at the top before switching legs. "I don't want them to rip."
"Damn right you gotta be careful." He groaned, rolling onto his back. "Why can't you dress for me like that?"
"I'll pick out something special for you." I winked at him, sliding on my clear strappy heels. "But you have to promise me that you will stay relaxed, stay in bed, and just be safe. Will you promise me, Chris?"
"Yes, I promise you I'll be good." He grinned up at me. "Just, um, before you go bring my guitar in here for me?"
"Absolutely," I stepped over to his side, grabbing onto his arm. Peering down at him with a giggle, I pressed a kiss on the back of his wrist, leaving a perfect lipstick mark. "You look at that and remember what you promised me."
"Give me a real kiss before you leave."
"But, my lipstick-"
"I could give a fuck about that, princess. I wanna kiss you." His fingers laced with mine, holding my hand in his. With a gentle tug, he pulled me down into a long-awaited kiss.
Our mouths locked together, and I felt my heart blossom like a flower that was freshly watered. I felt as if I was levitating, floating away with him in a world that only existed in this given moment.
Without a moment's hesitation, his impatient tongue slid past my lips, tasting me like he had been starved of my affection. With a kiss so rich and warm, one that set me ablaze with passion, I was melting into him, soft and pliable. His hands were just as eager, sweeping up my sides with a fervent touch.
Just him and I.
In a slow and sensual movement, his mouth drug away from mine, sucking out ever so slightly on my plump lower lip, before tucking back a lock of my hair. "You have to go?"
I nodded my head softly. "I do."
He sighed, releasing my hand and wiped the thick red smears from his mouth. "That's some shit."
I smoothed down his bandage that was wrapped around his torso and turned away, returning to my vanity to repair my makeup. "I'll be home around four."
"In the morning?" He groaned out, adjusting himself in his pants.
"If you focus on getting sleep, and stay in bed, the time will go by faster." My smiling eyes watched his displeasure in the mirror, his expression turning dull.
"I can't sleep knowin' you'll be there."
"I promise that I will stay safe and-"
"I can't stand the thought of any man putting their fuckin' paws all over you. Touching you like you're their prize for the night." His tone was bitter as he spoke, jealousy in his eyes. "You should be mine tonight."
I stayed quiet, patting down the finishing touches on my makeup. He was right, I should be his tonight; I should be his every night. There wasn't anything I wanted more than to stay and indulge in him. To feel his familiar comfort, holding me in a secure embrace while he hums to me his favorite songs. We needed each other.
I should be his tonight, but I wasn't.
Standing up tall, I strode to my bedroom door, mentally gripping onto the torn pieces of my shredded confidence before pulling it open. There was a sure chance of me letting my emotions take over if I stayed, but I couldn't let that happen.
I needed to be strong.
"Briel," with just a single word, spoken so softly and delicately, he stopped me in my tracks as I opened the door.
"Hmm?"
With his hands folded behind his head, he watched me from his relaxed position in the bed. "I haven't forgotten about Marcello."
-
It was a normal night at the club, at least for the first three hours.
Making my rounds in the lounge, I caught a whiff of that familiar cologne. Strong scents of spicy rich Cuban cigars and rum wafted over me.
This familiar presence thickened the air in the room. so potent, you could feel the animalistic urge for power and destruction. Without having to look, I knew it was him.
I wasn't surprised when his hand tightened over my arm and he pulled me away into the blue room, locking the door behind him.
I stood before him, holding my chest high. His demeanor was different this time, almost sloppy. Perhaps he was drunk, licking the rum from his lips with evil eyes lurking in the dark.
"You look innocent."
"Do you like it, Papi?" I set myself up on his lap, my hands robotically moving down his chest.
He pulled down on my hair forcing my head to face the ceiling. "You look up. Stay quiet."
I nodded my head, staying focused on the blue lighting above us. Tears threatened my eyes before I blinked them away, holding strong as his gloved hand slid between my legs, pressing into me with force. I caught myself beginning to let out a gasp, squeezing my eyes shut.
Be a good girl.
His fingers were now sliding into me, the cold leather of the gloves chilled me to my core. "If you make a sound, I will want to hurt you."
I wanted to speak out. To say anything, whether it be a cry of protest or one of submission. I was in no position to fight him, locked in his firm hold against his lap. And yet, as much as I wanted to speak, I couldn't. I was now silenced by the invasion of his wicked fingers, claiming me as his.
"How much can you really take, huh?" Like a venomous snake, his voice hissed in my ears. "Will you take it quietly? Or will you humiliate yourself?"
All that I could hope for, was that he wouldn't be so brutal. Any evidence of his assault would immediately trigger Chris's retaliation, and the outcome would be deadly.
So, in that case, my mouth stayed closed tightly, teeth digging into my tongue to assure my compliance.
"I'd like to try to make you feel humiliated." He shoved his fingers farther into me, holding my hip to allow for a deeper reach.
I could keep quiet, but I could not halt the droplets of wet tears streaming down my burning cheeks. He did just fine in making me feel humiliated, stuffing his fingers in me until I began to sweat with built-up despair.
"You feel hatred for me?" His thick Cuban accent whispered over my chilled skin, breath heavy and ragged.
This is what he wants.
My chest heaved as I fought to glue myself back together. If only I could have just a moment to regain composure in this desolate state of mind that I was locked in. It was ruining me, poison in my veins, churning through my blood.
He wanted me to betray myself, bringing me to an unwanted orgasm.
A deep unwarranted moan caught in my throat, my body betraying me. I hated him more than ever. This was greater than any other torture, an attack upon my mind, my heart, and consciousness.
I hated myself.
"You aren't so innocent as you want to be." I could feel him smiling at me, watching as I weakened under him, feeding into his touch.
I'm nothing I want to be.
I dug into his shoulders, gripping tightly while I crumbled. With every long and forceful stroke, my hips began to grind into him without my permission.
I couldn't stop it.
I didn't want this, but he was the puppet master, and I was just a mere toy.
"You're disgusting, aren't you?"
Chris can never know.
"Answer me, now."
"Yes, sir. I am."
-
*Mwah*
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