Covet Not (25 page)

He
was the best fuck she'd ever had.

Josiah
tore his shirt into strips and stretched the cotton out. He tied them into a
longer rope. He would need to push them under the mattress and use that to
secure the rope since the headboard wouldn't be helpful. He watched her white
naked body against the sheets, and her arms raised over her head. She looked so
peaceful and happy, his new bride.

He
would give her a chance. Just in case she'd forgotten. Hopefully his ruined
shirt was for nothing.

He
wanted to keep her.

He'd
let her go, when she believed him.

XXXVII

“Let me try it.
It's
me.
I know I'm a lecherous man, but you seem to be resistant to my
charms. Just let me get it in deeper. My fingers are longer. Pretend I'm a
doctor, if you must.” Raphe rested his head near hers on her pillow. He put his
hand on her belly.

Clara
laughed, a little wetly. She put her hand over his. “Dr. Raphe.”

“No.
Dr. Achen. You don't know my first name. I'm a professional.” He circled her
wrist with his hand. Felt her pulse.

She
let him. “Dr. Raphe Achen. Your name would be on the door.”

“Ah.
Dr. Raphael Achen, then.” He squeezed her wrist.

She
looked at him, and smiled wistfully. “Raphael was an Angel.”

Raphe
sighed. “I'm aware.”

“He
was a healer, Raphe. A healer,” Clara said emphatically.

“I'm
aware,” he whispered. He bent down and kissed the inside of her wrist. He heard
her sniffle.

“He
won't want me, Raphe.”

He
pressed his face against her arm. “I'll want you.”

“You
won't.”

“I
will. Regardless of wants, I will take care of you.” He wasn't lying. He would
want her and care for her, but it would be difficult sometimes. She was smart
enough to know that. It was one of the reasons she had been easy to get close
to.

She
knew it was placating, and she wasn't sure if he was capable, but she would
believe him for her sanity.

“I
believe he'll still want you. And I'm not just saying it, Clara. From
everything you've told me about him, he will definitely still want you.” Raphe
truly believed it. “But it's been nearly three months. Do you trust me.”

Clara
sniffled and nodded.

“Good.”

There
was something about sharing the same space for months that either brings you
together unnaturally. A forced codependency. Or it makes you hate the other
person. Sharing a bed and sharing meals became less awkward as they got to know
each other.

Raphe
adored Clara. Sure, she was just as ignorant as the rest of the state, but she
was kind, and laughed at his ass jokes. She thought his exaggerated crush on
her husband was adorable.

She
was endlessly curious about his sexual proclivities, and he loved to tell her
about his good and bad experiences of being a prostitute. He never felt any
judgement from her at all, though sometimes she was sad for him.

They
stayed up most nights laughing with their heads together in the bed. He was
more affectionate, but she didn't shy away from casual touches.

Spending
eternity here with her didn't seem to be a hardship. Free room and board, and
not having to keep a job, but some days her sadness made the air thick, and he
wanted to get her home. He hoped that when they were released, he would get to
see her sometimes on this farm, but he didn't know how that was meant to work
out. Her husband likely wouldn't allow it.

But
she wasn't pregnant, yet. She knew when she was fertile, so that part was easy.
The hard part was convincing her that if he put his fingers in her, then she
wouldn't be cheating.

“Then
let's get this over with today. We have to do it several more times this week.
Lie back and relax. I'm going to the bathroom and see how many I can get you
today.” He sat up and put his hand on her knee before getting off the bed.

She
fell against her pillow. “You gonna count them?”

“You
know it.” He smiled and shut the door.

Clara
shimmied her knickers off and lay there frozen. She could hear Raphe in the
bathroom, but she tried to ignore it.

The
door opening startled her. She'd lost track of time. She glanced over at him.

“There's
4,564,984,902 of them. Most of them are worthless and lazy, but some of them
look like go-getters.”

“I
have no time for lazy offspring.” She put her knees together as he walked
closer with his cup.

He
sat on the bed facing the headboard. “Listen to everything I say. Then do it
before you can get too nervous.”

She
exhaled heavily. “Okay.”

“Bend
your left knee and lean it against me. Put your other knee against the bed.
Good.” He put the cup down on the bedside table and wound his left arm around
her knee and kissed it.

He
bunched her dress to her waist and just looked at her. This was going to be
difficult. It had been so long. Her cunt was beautiful. He put his cheek
against her knee. “You are lovely.”

She
didn't say anything, but he could see how her body went rigid.

He
dipped a finger into his come and rubbed it up and down her slit to open her up
a little bit. Bumping against her clitoris would hopefully remind her that she
could enjoy this. Her vulva was plumped and pinked, and it was starting to
glisten with her arousal.

He
pressed two fingers inside her. He would need to simulate intercourse as much
as he could. He wanted her cervix to dip down and grab as much as possible.

He
didn't take into account that he was essentially fingering her and that was
usually an activity one enjoys. “If you feel the urge, you are welcome to
masturbate.”

She
cleared her throat and laughed uncomfortably. “Would that help get me
pregnant?”

“Wouldn't
hurt to try.” He was giving her an excuse to get off without guilt. He honestly
didn't know for sure if it would help. But he suspected. He fit a third finger
in easily and brushed her clitoris with his thumb, and her legs spread
impossibly wider. “Did you want me to keep doing this instead? I will for you.”

She
was hesitant with her nod.

“Pretend
I'm him. Has he ever fingered you like this?” Raphe was building up a pretty
good rhythm.

Clara
nodded.

“Did
you like it?” He wanted her to tell him.

“Yes.”

He
rested his chin on her knee and grabbed his cup. He pulled his three fingers
out, and scooped the rest of his come out and he pushed it deep inside her. He
worked her deep with three of his fingers. Raphe took his pinky and pressed it
against her asshole while he took his other hand and ruthlessly rubbed her
clitoris. In less than a minute, she squeezed his hand so hard, he thought she
broke it.

She
was fucking exquisite.

Raphe
let her come down before he moved his right hand. He left his other hand. He
wanted to show her something. Her face was red as he knew it would be.

Finally,
he felt her cervix dip against his fingers. “That. Do you feel what's
happening?”

Her
eyes were so blue when next to those red cheeks.

“The
twitching?”

Raphe
nodded. “It's not twitching, though. Your cervix is dipping down to find my
semen.”

She
sat up a bit and leaned on her elbows. “So, this should do it, right?”

Raphe
nodded. “We'll do this again the next few days. I'm going to pull my fingers
out and I want you to lie here for a while.”

“Until
it stops?”

Raphe
nodded.

The
next day was much the same, but easier.

The
day after, Clara took forever to come. Raphe thought she was enjoying herself
more than she would admit. It was fucking torture for him.

A
week later, there were two lines. A day later, a nurse was sent to collect her
blood.

She
was going to get to go back home.

Or
go with Raphe.

Two
days later, there was a letter on their dinner tray.

I
hear congratulations are in order. It might be months before I can make it back
up there, but I'll get there eventually. Hopefully before the baby. I'll make
sure Jude clears out any visitors at that point. He's pathetically attached to
any warm body.

Clara
dropped the letter. 

XXXVIII

Sofia reminded
James of someone, but he couldn't quite think of who. He told her as much, and
she had laughed him off.

Her
accent was interesting. She said she could try for clarity, but sometimes it
went back to her native accent, so it took effort.

James
thought it was charming. Possibly.

She
was different. She wasn't the type he could just take from, not right away. She
seemed strong and self-assured. She seemed to have moments of contrived
meekness, but he was sure it was some advice from the agency. But her spirit
was full of fire.

What
he really wanted to know was why she needed a job in Texas, but he was getting
closer to fucking her and he didn't want to ask questions that might put her
off. She reminded him of Selene in that regard. Selene had nice things and knew
how to care for herself.

Sofia
was the same way.

He
hadn't gotten a full day of work in since she got there. Their flirting had
escalated to combustive levels, so it was any day now. Any
second.

James
was restless. He couldn't sleep and it had been weeks since he'd come by
someone else's hand, or mouth, as was the case for the last time.

Having
Sofia around made it much more difficult. Because he was going to fuck her, but
he had to play it just right.

She
was beautiful, and had the perfect touch of rebellion. These worldly women were
so ignorant. They thought they could run the world, and men have let them
believe that. He could let Sofia believe it. Seeing her green eyes look up at
him when her mouth was full of his dick was the highlight of his fantasies
right now, but he was sure it would be happening very soon.

No
one had ever told James Agnesson 'no'. Except that one time, but he couldn't
remember her name. It wasn't important. It was before he was married after a
church function. He'd been instructed to make sure the office in the church
basement was locked. When he'd walked down, he saw a girl who was in her
underthings. She didn't notice him at first. She appeared to be blotting
something she'd spilled on her dress.

Her
breasts were full and her nipples strained against her camisole. He could see
pink pressing up against the white. She seemed unconcerned about that. She was
more worried about a tatty dress.

James
was inclined to teach her about priorities. It was easy. It was so easy to turn
her around and bend her over the table.

No,
I'm betrothed.

Then
you'd best keep this to yourself.

It
had been his first time. He'd known about fucking; had seen it all his life on
the farm. He knew the logistics. He knew that pussies got wet to accommodate.
He knew how life was created.

Creating
life wasn't nearly as satisfying as taking it.

He
never saw her again, but he likely got her pregnant and she was sent away. It
happened sometime.

He
didn't realize until much later, after he'd fucked several more women, that he
wasn't particular about their state of dress at all. They were alone. And they
had no choice.

The
lessons he meant to teach were lost by his own epiphany: Religion was something
the people kept hold of to prevent men like him from playing God.

Well,
fuck all that.

He
learned to be a god among men when Grace was alive. She worshipped him, bore
his useless sons, and her eyes held his when the lights went out and she never
saw again.

He
had high hopes for Jacob, but he was a Mama's Boy, through and through. He was
a miserable baby who became intolerable by the time Jonah was born. Jonah clung
to his mother to escape Jacob, so James took more time to train him up.

It
worked for a while, but he was far too preoccupied with what Grace and Jonah
were doing.

Soon,
Josiah came along, and James stayed at work longer. His father's declining
health was an issue, and he needed to make sure he was ready to take over.

Grace
was the perfect woman if there ever was one. The house was clean. The meals
were delicious, the children were well-behaved and most times in bed when he
got home.

And
her pussy was always ready. She gave everything to James. But sometimes he just
wanted to take, so he would choke her until she passed out, and he would
explore every bit at his leisure.

He
wanted her to know brutality sometimes, so by the end, he kept her awake more
often. He would take until she cried.

Until
she bled.

Until
she couldn't catch her breath.

There
was a girl-child. James couldn't recall when she came. Before or after Jared.
She wasn't meant for the world. She was too small. But her hair was white.

There's
no way she would survive being that tiny. She wasn't breathing. She didn't even
begin to breathe.

But
her hair was white.

He would
never forget it. Even though that was what he would try to do. Her white hair.
He made the midwife take her away. The girl-child. With her white hair. Later
he would take ash from the fire to give to Grace. He didn't want her in the
family cemetery. He didn't want to be reminded of her when he went to put fresh
flowers on his mother's grave.

He held out
hope that the next child would be blond because the girl was.

There
was so much vivid red blood in Jude's hair that he'd hoped it covered the
white.

Once
he got a better look, and saw the matted dark, his wife took her last breath.

He
usually didn't have melancholic episodes. When he couldn't sleep, he'd normally
have a live-in to fuck.

He
got out of bed and slipped on a thin robe. He would make him something to eat
and sit up for a bit.

He
walked down the hall and felt her before he saw her. His robe fell open and he
could feel Sofia's nipples through her shirt as they pressed against him. “Mr.
Agnesson!”

James
smiled seductively. “Ms. Valentina. What sort of trouble are you getting up to
at this hour?” He backed her into the wall.

“I
couldn't sleep. I hope I didn't wake you.” She pretended she wasn't backed into
anything she didn't agree to.

“Not
at all. Just restless. Came out to look for a snack.” James looked down at her
lips and licked his own.

“What
are you in the mood for? I could probably whip something up for you?” She tried
to sound like she wasn't propositioning him.

“Mmmm.
I'm in the mood for something I've never had before.” His nose was angled down
toward hers.

“Mr.
Agnesson
‒
”

“James.”

“
James.
”
She took a deep breath. “I'm fairly high maintenance. If a man is lucky enough
to tempt me, I'm almost always disappointed by the end.”

James
kept his eyebrows out of his hairline with a lot of effort. “I think maybe I've
met my match.” He crashed his mouth down on hers. He was immediately startled
to feel her kiss him just as aggressively and to claw at his shoulders. He
pulled back. “I think maybe I should tell you about myself.”

He
took her wrists and held them against the wall. He didn't quite know how to put
it.

“What?
You like it rough? You want to spank me? You seem the type. You want me on my
knees
‒
”

He
loosened his grip in shock and she dropped to her knees. His erection was thick
and curved upwards. She pretended to study it critically. “Very nice.” She
pulled the head down and licked the slit to taste him. “You were saying?” She
held him loosely in her hand and mouthed at his balls while looking upward at
him.

He
pressed one hand against the wall to keep his balance. The train had left the
tracks.

“James?”

He
didn't answer.

“James?”

“Yes?”
Breathless.

“Fuck
my mouth.”

The
days grew shorter. There was less evidence of Clara around the house. It was
like she died, but he'd somehow forgotten how it happened. Or he imagined her
to begin with.

Jude
was starting to believe she truly was dead. Some nights, he almost convinced
himself that he'd created her in his mind to begin with, to have a stab at
normal, but Jared and Shula reminded him of his Hell on Earth. And it was
likely worse for her. And if that was the case, there was only one thing to do
anymore.

It
was late, and Jude used his key to the back door. James couldn't hide his
surprise. He was naked and shutting the refrigerator door. “Remember new
locks,” he mumbled. He was pushed against the wall. Both of Jude's hands
wrapped tightly around his neck, and the reach on him was substantial. It also
made his hold on his father much more tenuous.

“If
you don't bring her back, I will fucking kill you. I can't be more clear than
this.” Jude couldn't tell if James truly was struggling for breath until he
started to turn blue. He let up for one second exactly.

“And
if anything happens to the new girl, like all the fucking rest of them, I will
fucking kill you. I'm
done,
Father. You are a psychopath. You likely
killed mother. You drove Anna to her death. God only knows where you dumped
Selene. Shula narrowly escaped you. And you splattered Martin's brains all over
the barn because he was fucking me. And that's the ones we
know
about.
This ends, Father. This
ends.
If I don't have Clara back alive within
forty-eight hours, you need not return. Because you will be dead before you get
past the hedge. Your
son
who likes men to fuck him is a crack shot. Your
choice.” Jude let go and James slid to the floor. “God, I want to kick your
face in right now.”

Jude
left before he was too tempted.

Sophia
was in the hall with her hand over her mouth so that no one would hear her
breathe. She heard James struggle to get up. She wasn't going to help him. She
walked back to his room and she would pretend to be asleep.

She
would have to do a lot of pretending until she figured out what to do.

How
could she find out about Selene?

She
was halfway in love with James. He was gorgeous, charming, and rich, and he was
fucking amazing in bed. Dominant and forceful.

She
was convinced, just by his admittance that he was done with having children and
had taken steps to prevent it that he hadn't impregnated Selene.

She
had assumed Selene had taken the pills at that McAllen house, and they disposed
of the body when she bled out.

What
Sophia overheard, she believed. She'd been stupid.

She
would confront Jude next time James left.