The Forgotten Ones (A Completed Steamy, Historical Romance)

September 2, 1862

We layed the children down in their cradles and stood back to watch them sleep. "They're so perfect, and I've missed so much." He said.

"Come with me." I said, and took him into our bedroom."I don't want to wake them. " I said.

He stood in front of me and ran his thumb down my face then my neck. He looked at me in the eyes. "Will you do something for me?"

I nodded at him and didn't take my eyes away. "Get on your knees."

"What?" I asked.

"On your knees." He said, so I did as he said while he unbuckled his belt.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Take me into your mouth."

I shook my head. "Oliver, please." What's wrong with my husband?

He took hold of my hair and lined himself up against my lips. "Please, Naomi."

I did as he requested. He guided my head by wrapping his hands through my hair. He shoved himself into the back of my throat, and I gagged. "Please, Naomi."

I allowed him to guide me and did as he requested, as tears fell down my cheeks. I feel cheap and dirty.

He groaned and panted as his pace quickened. He pulled my head back and looked down at me. "You're so beautiful." The candlelight flickered off his face and it's still there, nothing but lust.

He pulled me up and turned me around then pulled off my dress. His hands quickly untied my corset. "Don't wear this around me again."

He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. "You allowed another man to touch you. I'm here to remind you who you belong to."

"What?"

"Word gets around Naomi. I heard about last night. I'm going to remind you I'm still alive." He said.

I tried to squirm out of his arms. "You're not touching me again until you tell me what's happening!"

"Armstrong had his hands all over you at a celebration. Will you deny it?"

"I don't understand. I danced and we had spirits."

"Did his lips touch yours?"

"I pushed him away! What's happened to you?" I cried.

"I'm at war and my wife is bedding another man!"

"Nobody but you has ever touched me!" I slapped him.

"Who did you speak with?" I asked.

He grabbed my arm. "Claudine and Mrs. Bastian. Are they liars?"

"Yes!" I cried.

He pushed me back on the bed and crawled on top of me. He forced himself inside me while he bit my neck. "I won't let you forget who you married. I didn't believe it until I saw the way Armstrong looked at you."

"You're hurting me." I cried, and he stilled. "I would never allow that man to touch me! I told you not even in death." I spit in his face and pushed him away, then covered my body.

"I have been assaulted, whipped, leaving scars, I carried and gave birth to your children, and the thought of another man touching me makes me sick! You don't even have the right to touch me the way you did, making me feel cheap and dirty."

I fell to the floor and cried.

"I want my Oliver back. I don't want the monster you are to me." I sobbed into the covers around me.