Welcome To Corbin's Bend Page 19

  Ange didn't return downstairs until Carla had left. When she did return, it was with a different attitude. To Jim's utter amazement, Ange was in her nightclothes, and offered herself willingly for his chastisement. He had no idea what had caused the transformation.

  "You could have come down while Carla was here," he told her as she lay across his lap. He lifted her nightdress up, exposing her bare bottom and lower back, rubbing her back as they spoke.

  "I know, but I didn't want to make it more awkward for you. You're meeting her for lunch? I wasn't eavesdropping, I just overheard, and her voice carries."

  "Yeah, so it seems. You might be right about her. I'll try to discourage her, okay?"

  "I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. I was just saying it's a bit strange."

  "I agree, now are you ready?"

  He felt her stiffen as he raised his hand, but now that they had cleared the air, and she had offered her body so willingly, it became more of an erotic spanking than a punishment. He started off with a slow warm up, and allowed her body to relax and feel the sensations. As he spread the heat all around her beautifully rounded globes, he watched the pink flush spread and her body become open. Only then did he spank harder. Gradually he increased the heat, and as she struggled, he paused for a moment, before starting again. He could almost physically see the endorphins enter her body and he knew he could strike harder still, while still keeping connected without a struggle. Harder and harder he slapped, until he felt her give her body over to him completely. He was surprised to see Ange's tears flowing and her shoulders shake in a silent sob. He didn't think he'd gone too hard on her or lectured her unfairly. Maybe she too had to let go of the stress of the past. He pulled her up onto his lap and comforted her as she wept, long and hard. Jim didn't ask what was wrong, he just assumed.

  "I've missed you the past few years, Ange. Don't shut down like that on me again. Please." At that, he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom. She didn't offer any resistance as he lifted her nightdress over her head; rather she lifted her arms compliantly like a child. Jim kissed her tear stained cheeks, one after the other, allowing his mouth to travel down to hers. Ange's lips were soft, moist and salty from her tears as he flicked his tongue gently across her mouth, seeking the inner folds of her lips and tongue. Equally gently, she responded to his kiss. He cupped her chin to make her eyes meet his.

  "Hush, love. It's all right. Everything will be fine. It just takes time," he promised. He meant they would be all right. They were strong, they'd come this far and in spite of all the obstacles, they had survived. He wasn't letting her go now.

  Ange nodded her agreement, it seemed talking was not on her agenda as she lay back on the bed, waiting. Waiting for him to comfort her, claim her, love her? He wasn't quite sure which, and he tried to figure it out as he stripped himself. There were so many times over the last three years that Jim O'Brien wished that his wife had come with an instructions manual. Times he had feared that their love was not enough. All too often, he found himself wishing he could turn the clock back to before that fateful night, before their world imploded. Shooting in the dark a little, he opted to love her, slowly and thoroughly.

  He lay on the bed beside her, leaning over to kiss her. His tongue trailed down to her neck, heading for her ear, nibbling gently as he whispered, "I love you so much, you're my life."

  "I love you, too, Jim. I'm sorry, I screwed up so badly." Ange cried. But by now her arms were around his neck, inviting him closer.

  "Do you want to talk some more?" he asked reluctantly. By now, he was aching to have her, but if this was the opportunity to finally let it all out, he wasn't going to miss it, even if his body was screaming otherwise.

  "Not yet, later," Ange whispered as she pulled him still closer. Jim was oddly elated, not just because she wasn't stopping the proceedings but the "later" also gave him hope. It seemed like finally she was ready. After years of marriage, Jim knew Ange well enough to know that was as good as a promise. He sought her mouth again, more hungrily this time. His hands found her breasts. Her nipples were peaked and deep pink buds against her pale skin. He adored that visual. As long as he had been looking and admiring her, her nipples never ceased to amaze him, especially when hard with desire. He couldn't resist tasting them, nibbling softly while kneading them with his hands, until he could hear her moans of pleasure.

  Ange's legs had opened to accept him between them. He trailed down her torso with his mouth and hands until he reached her Mons de Venus, with her pubic hair shaven to a thin strip and neatly cropped. Her feminine folds were rich red and swollen with desire. Her creaminess coated her labia. The evidence of her arousal was a drug to his brain in his aroused state. Driven by a force outside his control, he just had to bury his mouth and nose there, to fill his senses with her. His tongue found her engorged clit; her taste was divine, salty and sweet at once. He caught a faint whiff of her perfume but his brain zoned it out, one scent only mattered. Her natural essence. As he tasted his fill, her juices smeared his upper lip, ensuring he would carry her scent throughout their entire lovemaking.

  Aching and throbbing, Jim continued to feast until her body tensed beneath his touch. He knew he could easily bring her to a climax like that, teasing her with his tongue, but from the thrust of her hips it was obvious what she needed: she wanted him inside, his cock filling her chalice making them into one. Somewhat reluctantly, he forced himself to pull away and give her what she yearned. As he shifted his position, Ange's hands found his burning rod. The relief of her touch almost made him shoot straight away. She massaged his shaft with one hand and pressed on his balls with the other, reducing the aching pressure. God, that woman really does know how to play me well, he thought, as he felt his body come back under some control. But still her scent on his upper lip was playing with his mind, egging him on, forcing him to claim her.

  He groaned with pleasure as he sunk his cock into her warm, wet pool. As her pussy sucked him in, he was almost giddy with need. He thrust hard, and fortunately for him, Ange was more than ready, her orgasm sending her body into small spasmodic jerks, one after another, over and over. Her pulsating drove him crazy as he distracted himself with thoughts of anything he could muster, to keep him from coming, too. When her orgasm subsided, he began his thrusts again, reclaiming her pebbled nipples with his mouth. Supporting his weight on his elbows he pumped harder, faster. His head got clouded until he could no longer force other thoughts into his brain. His testes contracted, his heart was beating faster and he was aware of every pulse in his body. He fought with it all until he felt her pussy starting to contract again, and with enormous relief, he let go with one hard thrust, coming in unison, each totally aware of the other. They hadn't just fucked. They had reunified in soul satisfying lovemaking. His elation was so much more than physical. They lay there for a time, not saying much, small little things, but there was tenderness in both their words and tone that Jim hadn't been aware of for a terribly long time.

  Chapter 9

  Ange woke to the sound of the coffee cup on the bedside table, followed by a kiss on her lips. She had barely woken enough to smile at Jim before he had left the room. He returned carrying a sleeping Ava, exited again and this time his return brought another bundle of joy in the shape of Jack. Both slept through being toted from room to room, and Ange smiled as they snuggled into the warm space beside her.

  "It might buy you a bit more time. You know how they love our bed. And you didn't get much sleep last night," Jim whispered.

  "Neither did you. What time is it?"

  "Six-thirty, I've got to go. I hope you get back to sleep." With a brief, tender kiss he was gone.

  Sleep was out of the question for Ange. Her head was full to the brim. Several things were troubling her and she had to work out a game-plan. Carla seemed to have a thing for her husband. And she could offer him certain things that Ange couldn't, total submission and an unfailing adoration born of gratitude for his having saved her life. Ange
also knew that she wasn't letting him go without a fight, even if she had to accept DD as a tool to keep him. When she had got his list yesterday morning, she was fit to punch him, but then when Carla had arrived and Ange had overheard the lunch plans, she decided to save that argument. She would go along with it for a while, if that was what it took. That she hated it was irrelevant for now. First she had to reclaim her husband, then she could make him realize how pointless that stupid list of dos and don'ts were. But to do both of these things, Ange also knew she would have to open up to him. Tell him all that had been going on in her head for the last three years, and let go of the past. She had to forgive him, and then forgive herself.

  Ange knew Jim would be waiting to hear her out, and he'd expect her to talk soon, but she needed to get it all clear in her head. For too long, the words they threw out had been harmful and damaging. She would have to get it right. And her actions would have to substantiate her words. A long time ago, she'd wondered briefly about the prospect of marriage counseling, having an intermediary help them find their way, but she knew deep down that Jim would never go for that. Having do-gooders interfere in their marriage would be his way of looking at it. As far as he was concerned the last do-gooder was the midwife and she had done untold damage. He used to laugh back home at the fact that the majority of those he knew who went for marriage counseling ended up divorced. Try as she might, Ange could never convince him that the real reason for this was that those who successfully survived marriage counseling rarely advertised that they had used the service. Jim was skeptical of counseling, full stop. Before they arrived in Corbin's Bend, he had even been totally averse to the idea of having mentors, tolerating them only as they were part of the conditions of acceptance into the community. But amazingly, he seemed to hold a lot of store in what Kirk had to say, even though he was many years Jim's junior. Too much store, to Ange's mind.

  After a lot of thinking and a couple of days of skirting round her promise, Ange decided the best thing to do was to put it in writing, that way she could read and amend it several times before she finally handed it over. There were a lot of things over the years that she wasn't particularly proud of, and she knew Jim would have good reason to be bitterly disappointed in her. After many aborted starts, Ange had a letter she could work with, even though it showed her in a poor light it was nothing less than she deserved, in her own opinion.

  Dearest Jim,

  I know you have been waiting and waiting for me to explain myself and my withdrawal from you. I can't do it off the cuff because there is so much and a wrong word or phrase can come across in a way it's not meant, so I've been trying to work out how best to be honest. I hope you understand this is because I want to get it right, not because I don't want to talk to you.

  Yes, I admit I blamed you for Jack's early arrival and my subsequent humiliation. I blamed you for being the one who gave into temptation. Those toys were meant to be for after the birth. But the real truth that I have been grappling with for the last three years, not admitting it even to myself, is that by laying the guilt at your door, I could avoid it. One of the joys of being a "sub" is that you take what you are given, and you can justify avoiding responsibility. After all, you're only being obedient.

  As long as I could accuse you, I didn't have to acknowledge my own irresponsibility. So I hid in that blame. The reality is, I felt contractions that night, but thought they were just Braxton Hicks, like those I had felt with Ava. I should have called a halt, but I liked it too much and was too ignorant of the risks to take it all seriously. Then every time Jack got sick, I felt it was because he was prem, and I couldn't handle that I hadn't carried him full term, so I held you and your damn horniness responsible. Stupid? Yes. Unfair? Yes. But without being able to blame you, I think I would have sunk myself to the bottom of the river Liffey. There's another thing that I haven't told you: I had two years of severe depression. I don't know why I kept it a secret – shame, I think. I was always used to being in control and for that period I felt so out of control, so vulnerable, that I could never admit it to another living creature, not even you, who I trusted more than anyone else in the world.

  All I can say is how sorry I am. I didn't mean to hurt you; I just needed to find a way to survive. Even if that meant blaming you unfairly. I love you as much now as I did before all this, I've just forgotten how to show it. Now all I can do is ask your forgiveness and hope we can find a way to move on together. I nearly lost my life when you said you wanted to go home, even without us. The thought of losing you makes me feel physically sick. But in spite of this, I was hell bent on pushing you away.

  And since now I've finally found my tongue, I want to say something about the domestic discipline thing. I still don't agree with it, but I'll go along with it for a couple of months, because after all that's happened, I owe you that much. I'll do whatever I must to try to recover what we had, but I'm scared that DD will only make it worse. You have two months to convince me otherwise.

  Ange

  The letter burned a hole in her pocket for the next three days, and while Jim didn't push, she knew he was waiting for her to open up and talk. Fortunately, work took him out of the house all day, and the evenings were busy with the kids and now that he was starting early, he needed to get to bed early. Ange knew she could just give it to him, and let him read it but she wanted him to be able to do so at his leisure, and have time to think about it. She knew he'd be angry at her, both for admitting her accusations and also for hiding the extent of her depression. If he read it at work, he'd stew over it and it would build into something humongous. Saturday was the day to do it. She'd get the kids ready to go out; then give it to him to read while he was alone. Ange planned to time it so he didn't have too long to simmer over the contents before he would have to talk to her. In the meantime, each new day brought more news of Carla. She certainly seemed to be helping him an awful lot. Ange didn't believe for one minute that she could possibly be as helpful to each new employee. She'd never get any real work done at that rate. Ange was doing her best to stay levelheaded about the situation, but it wasn't easy. She felt threatened and her instinct was to fight. She was wise enough to keep her opinions hidden from Jim for now and decided to get to know her enemy, to assess the real threat, if any.

  "Where are you off to? Do you not want me to come?" Jim asked as Ange and the kids entered the living room all bundled up in their winter woollies. Ange could see he was hurt by his exclusion from the family activity.

  "No, I'm taking them out for a while so you can read this. We can talk about it when I get back." Ange was astounded by the tremble in her voice and shake in her hand. Nervousness had come on her suddenly, making her want to withdraw the letter. She saw his face blanch, too.

  "Wh-what's in it? What's so bad you can't tell me to my face?" he asked. Ange kicked herself, she totally hadn't thought about how it might look if she handed him a letter.

  "It's not that I can't say it to you, it's just that I thought it would be better to write it so I didn't get in a muddle. You know what I'm like when it comes to expressing feelings."

  "Well, can't you wait here while I read it? Please?"

  "I was only going out so the kids won't interrupt you. We're just going up to the playground you can come up after us when you've read it if you like, but we won't be long." Ange laid what she hoped was a comforting hand on his arm for a moment and left with the children.

  The cold morning cut short their visit as it wasn't long before the children were whining and asking for hot chocolate. Jim was sitting at the table when she returned, the letter still open. He didn't say a word to Ange, even when she said hello. But she felt his eyes following her around the kitchen as took Jack's coat off, prepared the hot chocolate and settled the children down with a DVD. Only then did Jim acknowledge her presence, not verbally, but he signaled to her with his eyes to go upstairs. Disobeying was out of the question.

  Ange assumed that Jim intended to punish her. She removed her pant
s and panties and waited, lying bent over the side of the bed, pillows under her hips. He was certainly taking his time. As the minutes passed, she focused on the positives. It was all out there now, her accusations, her lies and her secrecy. Ange felt oddly relieved. Scared of what was coming, but relieved. It was all out there. No more lies. No more blame. It seemed like forever before she heard his footsteps on the stairs. She saw him look at her, his features impassive. No look of desire or appreciation for her submissive gesture.

  "Get dressed, I'm not spanking you. Not now, anyway, I'm too angry."

  "Jim, please, listen…"

  "No you listen. You've had your say. You think I don't know that you blamed me. For three fucking years, I've lived with your blame. And your rejection. But it was nothing, NOTHING, compared to the torture I put myself through." Jim was pacing the floor, his hands all over the place. On minute they were in his hair, tearing at it, then his finger was pointing at Ange, then his fists were clenched. His face was red with anger and Ange knew he was fighting his urge to shout or hit something. While mainly placid, Jim had a mighty temper when pushed too far, but this was the closest she had seen him come to losing it since his football days.

  "And yet you knew there was something wrong. You could have stopped it, no, should have stopped it. But you let me take all the responsibility," he continued. "It's not that I want to avoid my share of it, Ange. But you played on it. For years. Even without calling stop, if you'd told me this before, we could have dealt with it all together. Helped one another. But no, let the fool take the blame and Ange can be the martyr."