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I press my finger to his lips. “There’s no way out but through, and every time you hurt yourself, it hurts me. So pull your fiery redheaded rage in line for me and fucking stop it, or there will be no end to our suffering. Find your control and keep it. I need you to be stronger.”
Quin takes a deep breath and stares at me, as I pull his brother’s shirt back on.
“What are we going to do, then?” His gaze fall to where his cum is dripping down my inner thighs. His cock immediately plumps and rises with interest, and it’s still coated in a mess of our juices. My core shivers at the sight, because I love seeing the evidence of our love smeared over him, too.
“Let me think on it a bit,” I whisper, squeezing my legs together and turning my focus to patching him up.
I consider my options, while I continue with the best nursing care I can give him, when I have no formal training. Keenly aware that studying textbooks can only help me so far in this situation, I remember what Mom said, about always starting with the most important basics and resolving one thing at a time.
I make sure his wrists stop bleeding and that they’re well padded, in case he loses control of himself. Then I work on his shoulder, cleaning it as best I can and pulling the mangled flesh back together, to pin it with medical glue, adhesive strips, and some very amateur-looking stitches where the strips won’t hold.
Quin doesn’t budge or make a sound through the entire process, even though I know I’m hurting him. He’s refusing to let me see it, after what I said about him needing to be stronger for me, and although I feel awful about it, I’m grateful, to him for making the horrific process easier.
I stand back to review my work. It’s not pretty.
“You look like a fucking craft project, gone wrong,” I mumble at him when the silence has gone on for too long. “The scar is going to be big and ugly.” My voice softens to a squeak as my throat constricts, and I try to hold back tears.
“I’m not that pretty to begin with,” he says with a smile. “And I’m still going to praise you for your effort,” he replies quietly. “Thank you for caring, and for doing your best, Kira.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, regaining control of myself, to stay strong for him, the way he’s doing for me. Are we going to spend the rest of our lives doing that? The bad parts aren’t even over yet. Will we be strong enough to ride them out?
If Jack’s going to fuck me, and he’s left me without birth control… I could kick myself, for not reading the entire contract. It’s probably written in there. Marriage. Consummation.
Achild.
My demand to be provided with contraceptives would be nullified if the main contract stated conception was mandatory. Is he going to hold up his end of the bargain and give it to me, but provide it nine months later, when a child is born and my obligation is fulfilled?
A baby is an entire living being beyond the terms Jack discussed with me, the conniving snake. It’s a permanent attachment, to keep me close. A constant reminder of his power, to lord over Quin, while making me as undesirable as possible. Jack’s using me to break Quin, so he won’t dare to stray from Jack’s short leash.
How long will I be expected to stay here?
I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
I’m not to be released until mymarital dutiesare performed. If such duties involve conception, I could be stuck here for weeks, months…years. Will I have to endure his cock for that long? Will I have to stay his prisoner, until the baby is born?
I’m spiraling.
Mom’s advice falls into my head.
Imagine the best case scenario. What is the best case scenario?
I set a fresh bowl of warm soapy water and a cloth on the table and pull it closer to Quin. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” I wring out the hot cloth and start to gently wash the rest of the blood from his face. “I’ll clean us up, so it looks like we never had sex. If I get pregnant, he’ll assume it’s his, but what I need you to do, is breed me behind his back. Breed mehard. If I’m forced to have a baby, I need you to be the father, Quin. I can’t have that man’s child inside me. He has to believe it’s his, butIhave to believe it’s yours. Do you understand?”
He stares at me, and I stare right back.
“That’s his plan, right?” I ask, coming to the same conclusion every time I think it through. “It’s why there are no contraceptives. He’s going to keep me until I’m pregnant, and then he’ll cut me loose, knowing he’s screwed everyone to their limits. He’ll have power over me, he’ll have broken my dad, and he’ll have done his best, to sever any connection between you and me, while showing you the suffering he’s willing, to deliver to keep you obedient. So I need to get pregnant as soon as possible, which hopefully will be in the next few days, because the time is right, and I was hoping you’d do that our first time anyway, Quin.”
His good eye squints, matching the other, as he looks at me. “You never got on any kind of birth control, and you knew you’d be ovulating for your birthday? You…?”
I nod. Is it weird, to love that he’s clued-in about the menstrual cycle? Like he’s put effort into researching what he wants to do, so he can know exactly how to do it? Is that why he’s so good at making me come? Research into how best to achieve it? Every letter was like an expertly written pleasure manual, and his breeding kink shone from the pages, to arouse my need like nothing else.
“The way you wrote about it really turned me on,” I say truthfully. “I’m your girl, and I want your babies, Quin. I love you, and I demand to be the woman who gives you the family you want. There was no point in delaying it, when I’m so sure.”
His nostrils flare rapidly, and he presses his lips together, as a single tear rolls down his cheek. “You are so fucking beautiful, I can’t even think about him mak—”
“Then don’t,” I say firmly, blocking the same thoughts from my mind. “We’remaking a baby. You and me. I’ll get rid of whatever he does as best I can, and you can flush out his seed with your own. Okay? It’s not a foolproof plan. There’s no certainty. But if we do that, I can live with what happens. You’re going to be the one to put a baby in me. Any baby I have will be ours, Quin. Jack doesn’t get to take this away from us, too. Promise me.”
Quin nods. And I continue cleaning him.
