He told me then that he wanted a wife and a family. I scoffed at such desires.
He enters me, filling me again to the brink.
“You will make me come quickly,” he says. “Your pussy is so tight and perfect. And the fact that you, Annabelle, are allowing me to fill you with my seed. It is the most arousing thing you could give me.”
I close my eyes and revel in the feel of him and his words. I have never experienced such possessiveness from anyone else, ever, in my entire life.
“Alfred,” I pant. “You’re going to make me—you are going to make me?—”
“Oh God,” he says. “My wife, my wife, my wife?—"
We come together, tears on both of our cheeks, our breathing ragged.
We lie like that, with him still inside of me, our limbs tangled, until we fall asleep.
Chapter 37
Alfred
Iawaken with my arms still around Annabelle—and my cock stirs with me.
I worry as I did once before that I was too rough.
I would say that I didn’t understand my urgency, but I do.
It is that she is now my wife.
I always wanted a wife.
I dreamed of her.
All those nights as a boy coming into manhood, and then a young man, and then a man not quite so young, I lay in bed, my cock hard, knowing that I would never find relief until I married. And now I am married. I have found her.
I am nervous that I was too desperate. That I was too insistent on getting her with child.
I do want a child though—multiple children, if possible. But it is not only that. I have this desire to possess her wholly. The desire is so keen that it makes me lightheaded. I want to mark her as mine. I am proud to bear her name, but I want her to beminein a more primal way. I can’t help wanting it.
She shifts next to me and opens her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Annabelle,” I murmur in her ear. “Was I too—did I?—”
She shakes her head.
“No.”
“Are you sure about—about me spilling inside of you? If you’re only agreeing out of obligation, I’d rather we take care.”
“I do not want to take care.” Her voice is soft in the dark. “Although I do feel that I have rather ruined your life.”
“You have not ruined my life. You have saved it. Tell me,” I press. “Do you not want a child of your own? I thought most people wanted children.”
“No,” she says. “Many do not. And many women are forced to have children despite their preferences. But let us not talk of this.”
“Do you want to do something other than talking?” I say, lips curling into a smile at her temple.
“Yes,” she says. “Indeed I would.”
“And what is that?”
