Page 53 of Storm

Once Melek is gone, I cut us two double slices of cake, calling it one slice. Sunny is equally impressed with my cake-cutting abilities, and we do away with each slice painlessly.

Last night, I slept all the way through, without interruption. Between Mary’s death and this bizarre outing, Melek is determined to take us on, my husband actually let me sleep. I was expecting at least some cock sucking since I left him with blue balls in the morning. Nothing.

Instead, he packed our bags, helped me in the shower, avoiding all of my sensitive areas, and then cuddled me in bed. Was it the first night we hadn’t had sex since Sunny’s birth and subsequent forced bed rest following? Surely not.

As I racked my brain for other instances, I could not think of any other time. The man is an animal, demanding orgasms from me every night. I have no idea if it is normal because I don’t have other women to talk to. It is our normal. Maybe I revel in it as much as he does. Maybe.

Why does he have such a hold over me?

Disappointment may have found me upon waking, and I cut through that sucker exponentially.

I wring my hands in my lap, trying to forget about the misty, barren lands we pass in the large black seven-seater four-wheel drive. Sunny sits in the row behind us, sleeping.

We are on the precipice of exiting the colder months of the year. It doesn’t show in the surrounding environment, though. The hard dirt remains cracked, the land flat and uninhabitable behind the constant swirling grey tendrils. It reminds me of my childhood, of finding green weeds in fissures the size of my fist, thinking I had struck gold. The only plant life I’ve ever seen is at the Fairy Lands’ borders, behind our manor, and the food that ends up on my plate.

How they support the fruits and vegetables to grow in this desolate place is a mystery, as much as the puzzle of the nightly lightning strikes we used to receive. Mary did mention they have these places called greenhouses at one of the factories. It’s all done inside so the crops don’t burn.

One of those regretful types of questions that flies at me full speed is how much I still don’t know about this place. Should I have spent more time investigating Halo society instead of indulging in my emotions? It could have aided in my escape.

As soon as it crosses my mind, I’m reminded of colourful irises, the blue colour barring me from the people outside of our Halo manor. I was already restricted to leaving the house with Melek in tow in the early days because of my running. However, after we had Sunny, he let me leave with Mary and a trusted keeper. A few outings were enough for me to realise there was nothing for me in Halo. The punishing glares and whispered, “Swine slut,” comments behind my back were havoc on my new motherhood status in those early days. Children should usher in happiness, not dread and anguish. So, the manor became my prison in a whole new way. I had to protect Sunny at all costs.

He wasn’t going to be brainwashed.

Neither of my children are.

From what I was told about this trip, we will work our way around in a loop of sorts.

Now that we are out here, I wonder if this is a punishment. Will we end up at the place I began? The place where I left my mother and Nix to rot?

Melek taps away on his phone next to me, the black rectangle he has on his person at all times, barring when he locks it away each evening with his weapons. I turn to face him, the strap holding my body against the seat cutting into my large stomach. “How much longer is this car ride?” My legs are becoming restless. The baby in my lower abdomen stretches, pushing on my bladder. The tin can we are confined in is the opposite of what I grew up in, being surrounded by land and sky, caged with the illusion of space.

Whining, I throw my head back against the headrest, pushing at my temples. Melek stops what he is doing.

His predatory glare is intoxicating.

“What do you need?” He says it for my ears only as he leans down towards me, placing his hand over our baby.

“I need out of this car. I need to stretch my legs.” My eyes plead with him.

A look of contemplation paints his features, his brow creasing in the middle. A hard foot digs into my abdomen, stretching through the wool fabric of my black dress. Malek takes his hand and smooths it out. “We can’t stop because it would put us off schedule.” We can’t interrupt his precious schedule. “But you can lie down. Take off your seatbelt and lie back. You’ll fit if you put your feet in my lap.” He pats a broad hand on his thighs. My mind goes to other things in his lap. I internally slap myself, allowing my body to give in, shuffling my ever-growing butt down the seat.

With my back somewhat flush to the seat below, I twist to the side to fit into the divot in the backrest, giving my husband my feet. Annoyingly, his suggestion works, and I audibly sigh for the whole car to hear. The commander slips off my black suede boots and starts massaging my feet over my stockings. The forced proximity makes me feverish, the clothing I have on for the cold weather outside burning me up from the inside out.

“Take off my tights,” I command him, unbothered by the two men sitting in the front seats. Melek’s jaw hitches, his eyes flicking over to assess my face, noticing my red cheeks. In his stare, I can hear him without needing his words, saying, “Watch it.”

I mouth the words “Please, sir. Commander,” and he grunts, depositing his phone in the pocket of the seat in front of him.

“Lift,” he mouths, waving his hand over my midsection. I roll my eyes. Easier said than done. His eyes are dark at my unintended eye slip. Blinking a few times, he sees my struggle and pushes his hands under my dress, running them up my legs until he gets to my waist. He finds the hem of my tights and shuffles them down my body, giving my ass a slight tap on the sides. He keeps the momentum going down my legs, the last of the clinging fabric pulling free from my toes. Moaning, I blush for a whole new reason.

I can’t help it. His eyes come back to mine, set with a new ferocity.

“Rest, wife,” he says, voice full of gravel.

Closing my eyes, I finally let myself sink into the cushions of the seat, and Melek goes back to poking and prodding my feet in the most delectable way. The baby no longer stretches, gifting me some relief.

Each point he hits loosens the tension, sending tingles right to my sad core because, apparently, one night without my husband’s cock is enough to turn me into a pool of raging need for him. She’s already overly greedy for the harsh commander, but this caring act sends her straight to pussy heaven.

One of his hands begins to wander down my leg. I’m unsure of its purpose. The kneading of my muscles is welcome. His other hand continues alternating between my feet. I keep my eyelids and mouth locked tight. Spasms shoot up from lingering caresses, inching closer and closer to my inner thighs. Tapping them, Melek lets me know he wants access to the promised land. I’m tempted to keep them closed.