Fire of My Loins

Chapter 3

"Where the hell have you been?," Peter yelled as I walked into the house. My fingers gripped the door knob tightly and I felt my hands shake. He was coked out again, he usually ends up getting paranoid from it. I sighed and slowly approached him, my hands gently caressing his chiseled cheeks.
"Momma called, she had some...medical issues. But it's okay now, I'm here for you baby."
His nostrils were flaring but he seemed to be more relaxed as I touched his face. His head buried itself into my neck and I stroked his perfectly combed hair. I could already feel his arms running down my back, to the curve of my lower back and his hands gripping my rear. My heart felt heavy, I didn't want this from him when he's on something. Yet this was the usual thing that helped him cope, me and my will to do anything for him. Deep down I can feel that this was all wrong, but when he touched me, kissed me and eradicated me it felt so right.
"Baby, I need you to put your red party dress on for me. Some mascara, your pearls, look good for me. We're going to have guests," Peter pulled away from my neck and studied my face, he smile and pulled my hair back. His kiss was deep but rough that left my lips throbbing.
I stood there in front of the mirror examining my dress. A red mermaid dress that dazzled when the light touched it shiny fabric. It was a gift from Peter for our one year anniversary two years ago. He loved me in it and how my whole back was exposed. The dress barely touched the base of my back, it felt so sexy and exquisite.
"Excuse me, Madame. Sir, Peter is wondering if your ready? The guests are already arriving." Harold flashed his sweet smile and I nodded in agreement. I followed him down the stair case where there were already people chatting, wine glasses in hand. Classical music played in the background, giving the room a sophisticated feel to it. My fingers tugged at the long satin gloves that reach my elbows. I had always loved these black gloves, I felt they resembled my soul, dark and elegant. At the bad of the stairs Peter was waiting. His suit made him gleam with perfection and I flushed as he looked me from head to toe.
"Gorgeouse. Just gorgeous." His hand gripped mine and I beamed at him. My stomach had the familiar feel of butterflies fluttering inside me. The rush of satisfaction traveled through me until I turned. One of the many guests made her way to us, her hair pressed up in a bun. Her dress, long and red with shiny fabric...and black gloves like mine. My heart dropped, crushing any feeling of butterflies in my stomach. She was beautiful. A mirror image of what I was wearing but somehow better.
"Stacy, my darling," Peter gently grabbed her gloved hands and planted a gentle kiss on her hand. She smiled the whole time her eyes on mine. My face grew hot, anger and jealously washing over me. She was peters other woman. His number one. She hated me with every molecule in her being. The fact she was wearing the exact same dress as me made me turn my angry face to him.
"You gave her a dress too?" I whispered, he only smiled.
"No, she bought that on her own, I loved it on her so much I thought you'd look good in it too. And I see you do." He patted my shoulder and scoffed down his wine. He walked away leaving my with Stacy, and her face only smirked at me.
"He only pities you, you know. Besides he already has me, your nothing to him," she sneered and sipped her wine, that's when I noticed it. The shine coming from her ring finger. An engagement ring. My blood ran cold, and I refused to let any tears come to my eyes. She saw my glance and laughed as she made her way through the room. She didn't hesitate to bump my shoulder hard enough to spill my drink. What was happening? I thought, he loved me. He has to, he would never marry her. I made my way to his side as he chatted away to a couple sitting next to him. His glass was empty but his face was red from the liquor.
It wasn't an ideal idea to approach him now. I had to wait all night until every one left and it was just the two of us again to talk to him. Once we were both in bed alone I became curious. My head was on his chest, my fingers traced his muscular chest and I looked up at him.
"I thought you got me that dress as something special," I murmured and he only looked down at me. "You are, but I mean Stacy does look sexy in that dress," he replied with his eyes now closed. I furrowed my brows and sat up from the bed. I felt angry again. I knew I was going to regret saying this.
"Peter, what am I to you, do you love me?!" I cried and he gave me a puzzled look. "Baby, come on, you know that this relationship will never be a monogamous one. You know what your here for." His hand gripped my bare breasts and I pushed him Away. I felt like crying and smacking him. It's been this way for years and mother was right. I'm nothing but his whore. He grabbed my waist and pulled me closer but my tears were already rolling down my cheeks. Peters lips grazed my back and I pushed him away, smacking his hands. I just wanted to be alone. He makes me happy but I feel it's All temporary.
"Come here," he motioned me closer but I pulled away to the far side of the bed. "Come here," he asked again and when I didn't reply he grabbed my arms. It hurt as his hands squeezed me and he proceeded to get a top me. "Stop it, Peter! Your hurting me!" I cried but his only response was the back of his hand on my face. The jolt of pain made my head ring and the room spin. He's hit me before but this time it was more emotional pain than any. He hit me again and his other hand gripped my breast again. A tear rolled down my cheek and all I could think of was Patricks kind smile to me. What would he think of me, like this? My life and what I've become? Peters hands explored my bare body and all it's glory. His body pressing against mine. The silk covers glided over our bodies and eventually his roughness turned into a soft ecstasy to me. I gave in letting him grab me, seduce me, and take me under. My heart fluttered and my thoughts became fuzzy with every caress. What am I doing? Who cares. This is me and my life. I chose to be here with this rich man, he provides for me and that's all I need. My red nails dug into his back and let him control me and my body. I love him, how he makes me feel. He knows me and doesn't care about my broke past. He might not say he loves me but he shows it. His tall black soul matched mine, making this moment matter. His body trembled as I moved with him and made him mine. That's when I realized, I may be a harlot, but I'm his harlot. And I'd die without him, he's the only one who can save me from my own craziness. Who else can deal with me like this? Only him, and my lips found his. His warm breath was heavy as he panted and my legs were wrapped around his waist. This is how he told me he loved me. It was so exotic I had forgotten the ring on Stacy's finger. Right now was my moment with my man and nothing could get in the way of it.