I was lostin my thoughts as I kneaded the bread dough for the evening's supper. I still had found it shocking that this was something I had actually learned how to do. Vivian had been insistent that I knew how to cook from scratch. A good wife knows the way to her husband's heart is through his stomach, was her lecture as I begrudgingly learned how to follow recipes. Since being kidnapped and forced to be trained as Pope's wife, I had cooked, cleaned, learned the ways of proper etiquette, groomed, sewed, massaged Pope's feet, submitting and serving him in every way as Vivian constantly told me an old-fashioned bride would be expected to do. I was so exhausted I could barely see straight at the end of eachday.
Thinking of Pope as I manipulated the dough, I wondered what would eventually happen. How long could this all go on? This game had to be wearing on him just as much as it was for me. I had never worked so hard in my life, so by the time sunset fell, I could barely keep my eyes open long enough to undress and collapse into bed. Fantasies were replaced with chores, and sexual need substituted with exhaustion. But that was only allowed after I gave Pope his evening's blow job. Every single night, Vivian forced me to suck himoff.
Every single night.
Even Pope seemed to grow tired of the forcedact.
I paused a moment and brushed a blonde ringlet from my forehead with the back of my flour-encrusted hand. I rolled my shoulders up and down a few times, in an attempt to loosen my aching muscles.
"Vivian is nearly working you to death."
I jumped at the sound of Pope's voice. Turning my head, I saw he'd come into the kitchen. His jeans were dirty, and his sweat stained shirt clung to his chest. His baseball cap rested low on his head just enough to shield the depths of his eyes. Even filthy, he exuded sex appeal. Vivian had had him busy planting rose bushes along the side of the house. She wanted a floral paradise on the property for the wedding to take place. It was all the woman could talk about at meals. How lovely the grounds would be for our nuptials.
"So much to learn to be that dutiful wife of yours." I turned my attention back to my bread making, realizing that my comment had come out entirely snarkier than I had intended. I was just so fucking tired.
Pope walked up to me, placing both of his hands on each side of my shoulders and began to give a gentle massage. "I know how tired you are." He continued to massage as he spoke, causing me to close my eyes and relish the delightful feeling. "I know I haven't told you, but Maria is lucky to have a friend in you. If she knew what you were doing for her and her baby. What you were sacrificing for their safety."
I turned and faced him, my eyes meeting his. I wanted to melt into his body. His touch. His words. Everything.
Pope took a deep breath and a large step backwards. "I want to take you somewhere."
"What? What about supper and Vivian?"
"Vivian went to take a nap. All her bossing you around has worn her out, and I decided to surprise you with a picnic supper. It's the least I can do to thank you for all your hard work and your shocking ability to deal with this bullshit we call ourlife."
I stood in disbelief. "A surprise?" I couldn't believe he had taken the time to plan it all out.
Now?"
He smirked. "Come on. Let'sgo."
We walked quite a distance in silence, his arm wrapped around me, and after a while, I began to feel the muscles in my body ease. My breathing calmed, and my heart seemed to beat regularly again. Every time I adjusted my body, Pope would squeeze tighter, enveloping me in his security and safety. I could feel his breath against my neck, feel his body heat against my side. The sense of being protected, guarded and cared for, replaced any thoughts offear.
