Sin For Me

Chapter 23 ☑️

Megan

So. Much. Blood.

Blood dribbled within the crevices of the hardwood floor where Mason's lifeless body lay. I long to touch him, to feel the slight throbbing of his barely noticeable touch. But I was a prisoner in my own body as I stood beneath the gaze of my captor.

So. Much. Blood. Flashbacks from a previous nightmare flared within my brain. But this time the blood was not Max's, but rather the blood of my newfound lover. My husband's brother. How did I not see this before? The resemblance was uncanny.

This was all my fault. I set myself up in a position for failure, and had drug Mason beneath my wrath as my life collapsed all around me. I couldn't let him die at the mercy of a monster like Max. I had to keep him safe this time. All this time, he had shielded me from the truth for my protection, and I had to return the favor. His life depended on it, and possibly mine as well.

Mason was my breathe of fresh air, and regardless of the secrets he held, I had no ill-will towards him. My love for him hadn't changed, as I watched him silently heave on the floor beneath me. Regardless of terrible the family he came from, my opinion of him remained unaltered.

"Darling, whatever is the matter? Don't pity this fool. He's no good for you. Home is where you belong, with me." His tongue slithered like a venomous snake as the words slithered out his poisonous mouth.  It was as if he spat acid on my face, as tried composing myself. I had to remain calm, and present myself before I lost every ounce of my false composure. I fought back the tears before they fell, and stacked my pride high as I turned to face the monster before me.

"Max, I think enough time has been wasted here. Let's leave this fool to his pity and go home." A lump formed within my throat as I swallowed the words down. The feeling remained as if acid ate away at my esophagus. I didn't want to leave Mason here, but if that's what it took to keep him safe, I would do anything to get Max away from him.

~~~~~~

I grimaced as I took one final glance back at the town I had only recently been able to call home. Nausea swept within the pits of my belly as I stomached the aching feeling that evolved within my chest. I wondered if Mason was okay. Was he thinking of me as I was him? Would he understand my reasoning? Would he be okay? I hoped so.

I took a sideways glance at the monster by my side. Unwelcome, murderous thoughts overwhelmed my brain as I silently plotted the death of my husband. But was I really capable of murder? Could I actually go through with such a treacherous act?

Max appeared calm, and rather collected given the circumstances that found me back within his wrath. He gave me a halfway smile, as we boarded his private jet. Weird.

"After you, my love," he ushered me towards the entrance. I hesitated, staring into his devious eyes. What did he have planned? He was being unusually courteous. His expression was unreadable, which was worrisome. Why did it feel like I was entering a death trap? I wondered as I boarded the jet, taking a vacant seat at the back of the vessel.

I glanced out the window, as tears threatened my cheeks once more, and I reminisced over the brief memories I'd made here. I wondered if I'd ever see this place again. My mind drifted back to Mason, and the state he lay in upon my departure. I hope he understood my intentions—I loved him but that love came with a price. And it was now time for me to pay up. I sighed in frustration. Would I ever be allowed happiness in this life? My life had always been dictated by the villain of a husband that I mistakingly married. Why couldn't I have met Mason first? He was obviously the best choice. Now, as I reflected on my past mistakes, I openly accepted that my death sentence awaited me.

"Room for two?" Max inquired, lifting me from my hazy state. Like hell!

"Of course," I uttered. His politeness was spine-chilling. I needn't upset his demeanor just yet.

He seated himself in the seat aside me, placing his arm around my shoulder, tugging me closer to his chest. His cologne was intoxicating, and surprisingly I found myself aroused. Why did this feel so familiar? We hadn't shared many intimate moments in our marriage, and I wasn't supposed to feel like this. I was in love with another man—my husband's brother! I had just devised a devious scheme to murder this man before me...and now this? I was confused.

Max nuzzled his nose in my hair, and a sexy groan escaped his lips.

"You smell delightful, Megan. I've missed this." His breathing turned sporadic, as he slid his strong hands up my thigh, lifting my skirt and exposing my bits. I didn't stop him. Why wasn't I stopping him? This couldn't happen! My brain felt foggy, as I allowed him to caress my inner thigh. He slipped a finger inside, and I silently moaned into his chest. I was so aroused. And conflicted.

I had forgotten how it felt to be so close to the man I married. Was this why I married him years ago, before turned bad? Max used to be so kind-hearted and attentive, until one day he wasn't.

That was when the abuse began. All the black eyes, bruises, all the pain. All the late night calls, and cheating. I will never forget, and the memory will forever taint me. I always had a hunch he slept around, when he came home reeking of whisky and sex. But why was I allowing myself to be suckered back into this hell? It's just a mind-game he's playing, I assured myself.

He slid his fingers in and out mercifully, as my mouth discovered his. He tasted sweet, like bourbon perhaps. This was so wrong on so many levels. I was bewildered. But yet, I surrendered.

Hours earlier, I had made sweet love with his brother, and now I had my tongue down Max's throat. My abuser, my supposed dead husband. Why couldn't I stop him? I was in a state of disarray, as I came hard around his fingers, my orgasm flooding throughout my body.

"I see you missed this too, baby," he whispered into my ear as I floated amiss my high. My breathing was intermittent as he eased off his seat and down in between my thighs. Before I could register what was happening, his tongue ravished my most sensitive spot. I couldn't recall a time in our marriage that he had tasted me there. Only Mason had claimed that territory. I wasn't sure which was better—the spontaneous act of my husband in between my thighs, or the forbidden memory of Mason doing the exact same.

The thoughts of my new lover overwhelmed me, as my heart battled with my head. But my heart was failing, and my body was betraying me. This should be Mason! It screamed. But I couldn't stop him—the feeling was so intense, so dangerous. So exhilarating.

I orgasmed once more, as he devoured me like never before. I stared the devil in the face, and licked my lips in my hypnotic state. Danger had become my new middle name...