"If you want to be happy for the rest of your life,
Never make a pretty woman your wife,
So for my personal point of view,
Get an ugly girl to marry you.
A pretty woman makes her husband look small,
And very often causes his downfall,
As soon as he married her and then she starts,
To do the things that will break his heart."
— If You Wanna Be Happy
Jimmy Soul
In the weeks following the New Year's Eve debacle, Lydia kept the twins close. So much so that it became difficult for Betelgeuse to continue lathing her with lustful attention in the way he had become accustomed. In any case, her libido was dampened by the scare. It was too close of a call. That Betelgeuse was unwilling or unable to give her any concrete details on how this was allowed to happen did nothing to ease her worries.
He claimed to have placed wards and special protection to keep anyone who didn't have his permission from entering the premises, but Lydia didn't trust them. "Ghost with the Most" he called himself, and for the first time she found herself questioning "most what?"
Arrogance? Vanity? Promises?
She didn't blame him for the intruder making their way in. Not really. But, the fact remained that her worldview was tainted. He wasn't a God anymore. He was just a man, fallible and flawed as any other. He could be taken down, and he had enemies. Enemies that would salivate to see his daughters' and wife's heads on pikes. The world was a dark, dreary place where bad things happened despite the best of intentions. No matter what he said, no matter what she thought, they were not safe. They would never be safe. Betelgeuse had existed for far too long and amassed too many adversaries.
They would always have to be on guard.
In lieu of magical prowess, Lydia dedicated herself to improving her physicality to the best of her ability with the tools she had at her disposal. In the mornings, she ran several laps around the house, running and running until she couldn't anymore. After that, she cooled down with half an hour to forty-five minutes of yoga, the girls with her every step of the way. Around noon she did pilates in the nursery, the thick carpet and clear, open space allowing the perfect environment for her to tune out the rest of the world and focus on sculpting herself.
She couldn't allow herself to continue being so weak. Not anymore.
The new regimen had Betelgeuse confused and on edge. He understood keeping the girls close. He himself had followed his little family on their morning runs with a mind of protecting them should something happen, but the idea that his wife didn't think he could keep them safe anymore bothered him more than anything.
He lingered near enough, ready to take the girls if she wanted him to but... she never offered. Instead, he found himself the man taking the babies from their beds when their mother slept, desperate for a moment with them. He cradled them close to his chest, silent tears occasionally falling onto their blankets. He failed.
He failed them. He failed Lydia. Failed his marriage, fatherhood, keeping his family safe and happy. Hadn't he told Lydia that that was all he wanted? And now here he was. An outlier in his own home.
February was approaching fast, and Ginger was starting to take orders for Valentine's Day. He had seen them on Lydia's workbench, the reds and pinks of the holiday turning his stomach. It had been over a month since he had his hands on his wife. He felt like an addict on forced rehabilitation. Maybe this was karmic retribution.
Regardless, with the holiday of love approaching, he threw himself into finding the perfect gifts. With help from Ginger, the girls each got a new dress, a new stuffed toy, and matching bows for their hair. He had originally thought he would commission a gown for Lydia but now... he wasn't sure she had anywhere to wear one. Nothing he could buy would stand up to what she could make herself.
So he busied himself in his workshop, project after project tossed into the fireplace when he found them lacking. He tried statues, furniture. Anything he could think of. Ultimately he carved a new jewelry box, filling it with shining and glittering things for her. It was put in the corner of their bedroom when it was finished. She didn't even notice.
A new bench for her vanity. Nothing. Everything he tried fell short. She wouldn't even look at him on most days. So he gave up. Sat in the living room when he could hear her exercising, and drank. Wishing he could drown out the hurt in the alcohol.
Come Valentine's Day, Lydia was nearly so immersed in her rigorous exercise routine that she almost missed it. When she came in from her morning run and yoga cool down, Ivy strapped to her back and Holly strapped to her front, he was drinking and smoking in the living room, some old black and white television show she'd never heard of echoing around the dark. Then came a commercial break, an announcer going on about two-for-one deals set to a jazzy, romantic tune and an explosion of rose petals.
Shit.
How could she have forgotten? This was one of those things she was looking forward to; another first, another holiday she never got to celebrate properly. He was probably pissed. His aura was off-putting and unwelcome, telling her she wouldn't get any kind of warm reception if she brought the babes his way to have him watch them while she attempted to throw together something for him.
Instead, she brought them with her upstairs, and after seeing to it that they were fed, changed, and dressed in their pretty Valentine's Dresses— how did she miss those? They were so cute— she had Tilly watch them while she showered the stench of her workout away. Betelgeuse was busy anyway. She could skip pilates today. After cleansing herself, she sat down at her vanity for the first time since their last date, finally noticing the new bench and jewelry box.
Double shit.
Oh God, he must have been furious with her. How did she not notice? Had she really been that wrapped up in her own world? Determined to set things right again, she dolled herself up good and pretty— black lingerie beneath a silky red robe, a full face of makeup, and a diamond choker and earring set that were far too glamorous for so casual an outfit.
"Beej…?" She approached from behind cautiously, a baby in each arm, wary of poor reception. He was still drinking, still smoking, didn't even react to the sound of her voice.
"Happy Valentine's Day." Nothing. "Can you watch the girls for me while I make breakfast?"
Despite the offer, she kept her distance, not wanting either Ivy or Holly that close to cigarette smoke.
"Or... Tilly can do it. I just thought... I don't know..."
He was startled by the sound of his name. She hadn't spoken to him beyond a pleasantry or a good morning, good night since that night. He put his cigarette out and turned to look at her.
"Yeah, I can... watch 'em..." He gaped at the sight of her. Her robe opened just far enough for him to see a peek of black lace, her pale breasts perky and full, even while nursing... all the exercise seemed to be paying off in a big way.
The jewelry was from the box he'd given her weeks ago. She must have finally noticed. Makeup too would imply that she'd found his gifts. He stood and took the girls, now old enough to almost support their own heads, and kissed their foreheads.
"Ya look good. Ya like the jewelry?" He didn't know what she was after. Especially with the girls here, he didn't know that he would get to ravish her the way her outfit implied she wanted. They definitely couldn't go out. Her motherly protectiveness wouldn't allow it.
He took a step toward her, looking over her once more. "We can come keep ya company in the kitchen. If ya want..."
"You can come… if you want."
Lydia was drowning in guilt. They hadn't even touched each other today. When was the last time they kissed? She couldn't remember and it made her want to withdraw like a turtle into her shell. How had this wall between them even been erected? Did she do this to them? Awkward and nervous, she tugged a little at the choker when he mentioned it, blushing like a schoolgirl.
"I do. I love it. And the jewelry box. I'm sorry I didn't notice. I've just been so busy lately… Ginger said the shop gets a lot of business this time of year. She wasn't kidding."
When Lydia wasn't exercising, caring for babes, or cleaning, she was in her workshop filling orders upon orders. Mostly, she was churning out custom lingerie for all manner of ghouls and monstresses.
"I didn't even realize it was Valentine's Day until I came in from my run and saw it on the TV. I'm sorry, Beej."
Still, they didn't touch, the husband with his arm full of twins and her fussing over a mixing bowl that would soon be full of pancake batter. Heart-shaped pancakes seemed appropriate for the occasion.
"I've never been anyone's Valentine before… I guess that's why I forgot."
He settled at the table, settling the girls into their bouncer in the corner and watching his wife closely. He knew she was busy. He was there, watching her work.
I've never been anyone's Valentine before...
He sighed, standing to wrap his arms around her waist. Of course, she'd just forgotten. Why had he thought any of this was intentional? She was scared. She was allowed... so young and already a mother and wife. He had forced adulthood on her fast.
His lips pressed gently against the back of her neck, lingering there a moment and breathing in the scent of her shampoo. So familiar, and so missed. Large hands roamed her stomach over the soft material of her robe. It was flat again... she'd been working hard.
"It ain't yer fault. I should have checked in with ya earlier... I could have helped with the girls, but. You've barely put 'em down in weeks. I miss my girls... all of you."
While he held her, she abandoned the mixing bowl, melting back into the sorely missed embrace.
"You can always come take the girls if you want to be with them, Beej," she assured, frowning deeply at the implication that she might have been keeping them away from him. Had she? The possibility hadn't even occurred to her. He always did what he wanted, so when he didn't come for them, she just assumed… he didn't want to.
"I miss you too…"
She turned her head back until her cheek was brushing the wiry chest hair peeking past his robe, savoring the closeness.
"I just… New Years really scared me. I don't want to think that there are people out there who would hurt them, but there are. I need to be able to run if I need to. I need to be able to take care of them on my own. What if something happened to you? What would we do?"
"Babes, I didn't want to take them from you... ya got scared. I did too... it was my fault. I should have..." Locked the door. Kicked Chuck out sooner. Been here. "Shoulda told the dogs to stay with the girls."
"You runnin' ain't a problem. I see nothin' wrong with you bein ready to take the girls and bolt if ya need to, but I... I thought you were angry or somethin'. Didn't want me to get near ya. I mean... you've been workin' or workin' out all day, then ya go straight to bed."
He slid his hand into her robe and along the edge of her special lace panties, nuzzling into her hair. "It's been two months since the twins were born. Ya realize that? I've been countin' down the days... but if ya don't feel up to doin' the Valentine's thing, I'd be happy just to hold ya a while..."
It was a lie. He'd be devastated to face another night of his lonely left hand, but he wasn't about to ask anything from his wife that she wasn't ready to give him.
"No, actually, I thought it would be nice if we sat on opposite ends of the couch and didn't touch or talk to each other all day."
Why else would she have gussied herself up like this? What else did he think she was doing wearing lingerie and jewelry and makeup just to make breakfast? Silly man. After shooting a heated, teasing glance over her shoulder, she gently swatted him away to keep cooking.
"Honestly, I kind of lost track of time. I guess I just figured you would come to me."
The thick, goopy batter hissed nicely as it met the griddle.
"You usually do."
"Didn't wanna push my luck. Ya got too much shit to deal with without me tryin' to push myself on ya." He brought her back against him, kissing over her shoulders gently.
"I missed ya, bad. Maybe when the girls go down for a nap we could uh... reconnect a little." He nipped at her neck hungrily. "I love ya so much... I'm sorry I've been distant."
Maybe if he said it first she would return the sentiment. She'd been so busy, he was worried that asking for her attention would make her angry. So he didn't ask.
Lydia hadn't realized how starved for his touch she was. Now that she was back in his arms, she was burning up, the heat from the pan exacerbating her flush.
"Uhhh…" she trailed off dumbly as he nipped at her neck, growling love and adoration in her ear. It had been so long. The baby hairs on her neck were standing straight up, everywhere he touched hypersensitive.
"I love you too…" Along with how long it had been since they last kissed, Lydia couldn't remember the last time they declared their love aloud. Too long.
"I'm sorry… didn't mean to shut you out. I'm just doing so much. Work and cleaning and cooking and babies..."
With a heavy sigh, she flipped the pancakes, then surrendered back into his arms, letting him support her weight.
"I'm tired…"
He scowled. She was doing far too much. "Baby, you know I could just juice up food for ya n' the babies... n' Ginger should pull back on orders. Aren't you still on maternity leave?"
Maybe he should pick up a job. It certainly wouldn't hurt to have some cash of his own... and it would take some stress off of his wife. "I'll take care of it. You gotta rest, baby. You've been doing too much."
He reached up to pull the silky fabric of her robe to one side, his hand sliding to caress her through the lace of her bra. "God, Yer so beautiful... can we skip the meal and go straight to dessert?"
He pressed up against her, carefully leaning against her with a smile. "Come on... ya know ya wanna, baby."
I could just juice up food.
Lydia frowned, sliding the stack of misshapen heart pastries onto a plate on the counter. At least she tried.
"You don't eat when you do that. I don't care if you don't need it, if I'm eating you should be eating too."
It wasn't reasonable, but Lydia didn't care. Watching him eat a meal she worked hard on was satisfying and important to her in a way she couldn't quite verbalize for him.
"And Ginger needs my help. I can't just leave it all on her…"
Despite the objection, the idea of taking a full break from work was appealing. Technically, she'd worked all through her pregnancy, even up to the day before she gave birth.
"Maybe I should stop. Just for a couple months… I don't know. I don't want to disappoint her. She's been such a good friend."
Come on… ya know ya wanna, baby.
"But…" she objected his tempting advances half-heartedly, eyeing the ugly fruit of her labor. "I made pancakes. They'll get cold."
After so many months focusing all of her attention on motherly duties, it was hard to let go.
He sighed softly and glanced at the spoken of pancakes. They were cute. Vaguely heart-shaped and clearly made with love. "Ya know... I'm suddenly starvin'." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and went to sit at the table, patting his lap. "We can go upstairs and party after breakfast. Smells great, kitten." When she brought him the plate he dug into them ravenously, groaning softly.
"Damn, baby. That's amazing. I really hit the wife jackpot." He smiled up at her and patted his lap. "Come on, baby. Come sit with me. Here's how we're gonna do this. Two commissions a month. That's all I'm gonna let ya take on. I'm gonna take a bio-exorcist job and then we'll be squared away for a while. Okay?"
He nodded firmly, not giving her the chance to object. "O' course okay! Now come eat so Daddy can show ya a good time upstairs."
Eager for the affection, Lydia nestled into his lap easily. After all her griping and fussing, she barely even picked at her own pancakes, more interested in turning against him and curling up, pressing her face into his neck and accepting the love he had to give.
Feeding him was one of her favorite joys, one of the few services she could provide in return for all he did for her. He couldn't take that away even if he wanted to. Two commissions a month was far too few in Lydia's opinion, but his tone left no room for argument. It wasn't a question. He was telling. Lydia was too tired to argue.
"I missed you," she reiterated in a small, almost hurting voice, sparing him any further disagreement and peppering little kisses on his cheek and ear. "Wasn't just running for the girls. I wanted to look good for you. Still need some work, I think, but do you like? I can fit my pre-pregnancy clothes again."
He happily rubbed a hand over her side, as he ate, just as content as she was to be sharing a moment alone, more or less. Her voice was small when she spoke, going on about her weight.
"Baby, you look fantastic... but ya didn't have to do all that for me. You know I can't resist ya no matter what ya look like." He kissed her cheek, then her neck gently. "Besides... I still thought you were sexy nine months pregnant. Remember?"
He trailed his fingers down to her inner thigh, rubbing slow circles into the delicate flesh. "But. If you wanna look good for you, I'm all about it. I'm gonna love ya no matter how ya look." He kissed her soundly, glancing over to see the girls asleep in their bouncers. He waved a hand to keep them asleep until he woke them, whistling for the dogs.
"Tilly. Bubs. Watch the girls. Don't leave the room." Tilly huffed her understanding and curled up next to Holly, laying her heavy head over both girls' legs. "Come on, kitten... let's go back to bed."
"We could go to bed…"
Lydia half-conceded impishly, already more than agreeable to the idea. It had been far too long since they enjoyed each other properly as man and wife.
"Or we could go somewhere else…"
A meaningful gaze trailed off toward the locked door beneath the staircase; his playroom. This was the first time Lydia had suggested venturing there of her own accord. Every other time he had dragged her there in a fit of rage, teaching her lessons the only way he knew how.
"Unless you want me to misbehave first. I can be bad."
"Oh fuck, yes." In one sweep he had his wife over his shoulder and was heading for the stairs and the door hidden beneath. He chuckled, his hand coming down on her ass firmly.
"God damn, baby. I can't wait to have ya again... s'been so long." He kicked the door in and settled her back on her feet, kissing her roughly. "You're gonna get it... you know that, right?" He settled her at the edge of a sparse bed that was kept down in the dungeon, dropping to his knees immediately.
Gentle kisses were trailed up her ankle and higher, reminiscent of their wedding night. He savored the soft skin of her inner thighs, lips lingering there longer before he started on the opposite side. The fact she even asked to come here had him already hard in his boxers. He gestured invitingly to the toys and other devices littering the walls. He had been carefully maintaining and cleaning this room on his own, hoping they'd get a chance to play.
"You tell daddy how ya wanna play... and maybe I'll take it into consideration."
Oh, Lydia was well aware she was in for a ravaging without his warning. Hot with arousal, pulse racing in anticipation as he kissed up her thighs, she considered the many, many options lining the walls. There was so much, more than she knew what to do with; all different sizes and colors of dildos and vibrators, whips and shackles, more than one contraption she had no idea what it was supposed to be or do.
"I don't know," she bit her lip, suddenly nervous that the decision was up to her. Logically, she knew that no move was wrong. He wouldn't mock or deny her. His claim to take her suggestions into "consideration" was just a show.
The bed down here was thinner than the one they slept on every night, covered in a cheap, scratchy, stark white sheet that would show any stains left behind. She clenched the spotless fabric, eyes wide on the sexual armory as she attempted to make a decision and vocalize exactly what it was she wanted.
"I want… rough… and uhm… hard." Her face was on fire, burning with embarrassment. "You're always like that when I'm tied up. Or, uhm… when you put the collar on me… that was hot."
Idly, she toyed at her diamond choker, which was collar-like on its own. She could only do this for so long. Being in control was hard. Why did Santa think her being able to handcuff him was a good idea?
"Beej, I'm no good at this."
He chuckled, watching her struggle to take control. It was adorable. He listened to her half-request to be tied up and collared, though she was already wearing the choker. He slipped a finger under it and pulled gently, making her press against him fully.
"You know you've been pretty naughty... puttin' on this lingerie n' all... Didn't even ask ya to.." He ran his hand down to the ties of her robe and pulled it open with a smirk. "Mmm. We could relive that night in the hotel... Could tie ya up and bend ya over." He chuckled. "But we've done that. I want to play something new."
He snapped and she was completely bare, a spreader bar between her legs, holding her open with soft leather cuffs circling her ankles. Her hands were pinned over her head and tied with a silky rope, secured to a ring hanging from the headboard.
He growled at the sight of her laid out for him, raking his hands down her stomach hungrily. "Fuck, baby... look at you. You're so beautiful... so sexy."
She was breathless for a moment while his magic bound her, throwing her down on the bed hard enough to expel oxygen from her lungs. Then he was touching her, smoothing her coarse hands along her silhouette without any clothing in the way. She was thicker now, curves more womanly than girlish despite the baby fat that remained to puff up her cheeks. There was also a new strength beneath the thin layer of fat that coated her all over, muscles swelled and firm from consistent use.
Additionally, her arms were more solidly built than before, accustomed to carrying a chubby, healthy infant or two during the majority of her waking hours. Along with all the other changes, her hair was now longer than ever, prenatal vitamins and pregnancy hormones having given it the boost it needed to sprout down to just below her ass. Most days she wore it piled on top of her head in some swirling, wild up-do just to keep it out of the way.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she gasped in response to his admonishment that she dared wear lingerie without his say so. It was getting easier and easier to call him that nowadays. Sarcastic as anything, unable to help herself once the sass popped into her head, she proceeded to tease; "I'll make sure to get your express written consent next time."
He chuckled at the sassy remark, bringing his hand down on her thigh sharply. "I'll look for the request on my desk by five." He smirked and leaned down to press a kiss to her smirking lips before going to the wall and humming with thought.
"Let's see... what to do with my naughty wife. Well... I could whip you. But that might leave ya awfully sore tomorrow. We could play with wax, but... I don't want to hurt those pretty tits while yer feedin' my kids."
His eyes lit up with an idea. "Ah... here we go."
He took a vibrator from the wall, a rather bulbous head on the thing, conveniently light despite its size. With a snap, her panties returned. "Can't believe I'm puttin' clothes back on ya, but there ya have it."
He tucked the toy into her panties, and right along her folds, the head resting against her clit. "Now. I'm gonna turn this on, and you're gonna be a good girl for me. Yer not gonna cum until daddy says you can... right, princess?"
With a push of a button, the toy buzzed to life, a slow, steady stimulus against her.
"Yes, Sir," she agreed shakily, lashes fluttering at the low but powerful hum of the vibrator. "I'll try my best."
She couldn't really help it if she disobeyed. But, history had proven he enjoyed tasking her with impossible demands then punishing her when she inevitably failed. He could have used one of the smaller, remote-controlled toys for this. That he instead defaulted to a penetrative tool gave way to interesting possibilities.
"I didn't mean to be bad…"
The consistent vibration soon began to make her thighs tremble, aching to squeeze together and provide further stimulation against the immovable iron bar.
"… but I just can't help myself, sometimes. Are you terribly angry with me?"
"Oh, not too terribly angry. Just disappointed... I thought you knew my rules better."
As she twisted and tried to close her legs around the toy he wandered back to the wall. Humming, he perused a selection of gags and crops, letting the vibrations slowly work her up. He wandered past on his way to look at restraints, a finger on the button driving the vibrations higher.
"How's that feel, kitten? Ya remember what you need to say if it's too much, right?" He smiled and pressed the head of the toy harder against her clit, grinning as he watched her react.
"Of course you do! You're daddy's good girl, ain't ya Valentine?"
She remembered. Sandworm. Considering their past, she understood why a word like that might cool him down fast.
"Mhm," she nodded her affirmation, eyes bright with pleasure at the praise even as she squirmed under his torture. It had been too long since she'd heard the phrase "good girl" not uttered to a dog.
"I'm good! I will be good..."
Valentine. It made her feel all sorts of mushy and in love to be called such a thing. He took off to look over more torture devices out of her sight, but not before messing with the toy just enough to make her whimper. The increase in vibration was maddening, so Lydia talked to distract herself, relating to him a story she'd long buried but would dig up for now; remind him how very much this meant to her.
"You know how kids bring cards to school to hand out in class to everyone? You're supposed to make enough for all your classmates, whether they're your friends or not. Teachers pass out class lists and everything so no one gets forgotten."
The little speech only marginally helped to keep her mind off of climbing the ladder to her peak, but something was better than nothing.
"I never got one of those cards. Not once. Ever. I've never been someone's Valentine."
He frowned at the story, turning to look at her curiously.
"You're tryin' to distract either me or yerself and it ain't gonna work. But it's a good effort." Chuckling, he came back to the bed, sitting beside her and bending to kiss her gently.
"You're my Valentine, baby. For the rest of our days." He pushed on the head of the toy a moment before switching it off and pulling it away completely.
"Now. It's been a while since ya had anything in that pretty pussy... so we're gonna work ya open." He ran his thumb gently over her folds before pressing a finger against her entrance and pushing forward.
"So tight..."
"If I don't distract myself, I'll cum too early and you'll be mean to me," she reasoned as he came nearer, the toy still buzzing. "I'm trying to be good."
A wasted effort on her villainous husband, truly. She sighed a breath of relief and longing when he took the vibrator away, making sure to push it harder against her clit before sliding it from her panties entirely. Sadist. He leaned over her indulgently, slow and casual with his motions, really rubbing it in that he could do whatever he wanted while she had to just lie there and take it.
The vibrator had left her slick for him, the only resistance to be found when he pushed into her core the unyielding clench of her internal muscles. Her brows furrowed at the intrusion after so many months without anything of the like.
"Nng…" she whined low in the back of her throat, chest arching toward him. "Beej…" Her head tilted side to side slowly under his attention, the only part of her body she still had sovereignty over. For now.
"Kiss me," she pled, longing to be closer. His hand was currently all that was touching her. "Please?"
He considered the request a moment, humming as he thought it over.
"In a minute. I'm busy..."
He twisted the finger inside of her, pumping it slowly in fascination. A second, then a third were added as he worked her open, reveling in the slick wetness she produced. Even after so long, it seemed she was ready for him. When he was satisfied with the stretch, he leaned down to kiss her gently.
"Love ya, baby."
He pulled his fingers free and replaced them with the toy, flicking it back on and stepping back to watch the reaction. He was hard but ignored it. He wanted her to get through at least one orgasm before he took her...
And he liked watching her squirm.
"I love you too," she panted desperately against his mouth when he finally deigned to give her the kiss she was begging for. Unfortunately, he kept it brief and soft, and she strained to lift up and keep it going even as he pulled away.
Once he brought the vibrator back into play, she groaned from deep in her chest, slamming her head back to the mattress, features contorted with distress. Her breaths were short and fast, a thin sheen of sweat beginning to mist over porcelain flesh as she struggled. She knew she was bound, but physiological response demanded she clench her thighs, attempt to reach restrained arms down and move the process along.
"Daddy," she whined, biting hard into her bottom lip. "Please let me cum! I'm going to— Can't stop— Not my fault!"
Sheer mental willpower was the only thing keeping her from gushing her release all over the silicone toy nestled in her panties. Any further pressure would lead to orgasm, with or without either of their permissions. His poor wife was hanging on by a thread, dedicated to being the "good girl" he wanted her to be. She tried forcing herself to be still, but couldn't halt the way her muscles trembled, aching and wrought with tensions.
"Please!"
Watching her twist and beg for him made something deep within him purr happily. She'd been getting what she wanted for far too long, now. He didn't want his girls too spoiled. She would start getting cocky, get bad ideas. He waited until she was nearly sobbing before pinching her nipple roughly and giving the order.
"Come for me. Now."
Like the angel she was, she was immediately thrown into obeying. While she climaxed, he hurriedly shed his boxers then stroked his cock slowly while watching her fit. He was more than ready for her. Before she could finish her orgasm, he lifted the spreader bar and slipped under it, pushing into her on one smooth thrust.
"Fuck! God damn, I missed this tight cunt."
After giving his permission, she fell into convulsions, letting go of the mental restraint that kept her from cumming; his word alone stronger than any ropes or shackles. The sight of it was too much for him. Beastly, taken with impatience, he didn't bother removing the vibrator or her panties to take his fill of her.
Taking the bar in one hand, he pushed it toward the headboard, bending her in half and clawing her panties to the side to get at her before sinking deep into her fluttering, squeezing, still-orgasming pussy. She screamed, throaty and high-pitched, the violent violation of her person intensifying an already explosive orgasm.
"Fuck!"
She forgot how big he was. It was almost too much. Without preamble, he began pounding away with weighty thrusts that slapped his hips against her ass audibly, reddening the pale flesh there. The waves of crippling pleasure began to calm, leaving her clit oversensitive, the vibrator's buzz borderline painful on the little overworked bundle of nerves.
"Too much," she complained in an echo of their honeymoon night as if she had any rights, shifting her hips fruitlessly against his fucking like she might be able to dislodge the vibrator. "Can't! Please help me!"
He ignored the pleas for help, simply fucking her through her tears and higher towards his own peak. When he finally met it, he pulled out of her roughly, the bonds on her legs disappearing as he flipped her onto her knees.
"God damn it... way too fuckin' long, baby... been makin' my balls blue just thinkin' about waitin' for you any longer..."
She was too tight, too wet, and far too warm for him to last much longer. His hips stuttered as he neared orgasm, hunching over her like an animal. "So close, baby... I'm gonna fill ya up. Tell daddy ya want it..."
"They're— al— ready— blue!"
Even here, even now, even with his hips pistoning mercilessly against her while the aforementioned balls slapped her abused clit, there was no forcing her sharp tongue into submission. Not without a ball gag, anyway. With the abrupt change in position he'd muscled her into, the evil vibrator placed by her evil husband finally fell, slipping onto the sheet beneath them, still buzzing away.
There was still no reprieve given. His heavy sack beat against her pussy with solid thumps that sent little electric shocks throughout her body. Everything was strung tight and tense; arms stretched painfully straight toward the headboard, back arched dramatically, and half her face smushed into the mattress, smearing makeup on the sterile sheets.
The pace faltered, marking his incoming orgasm. With the ending upon them, he demanded more, curling a grimy fist into her hair and pulling until her back arched even further, constricting her insides tighter for him.
"Please fuck me," she keened, feeling beautiful and loved and needed in a way she hadn't for several months. It was intoxicating, physical pleasure aside. "I want your cum, Daddy," she begged quite convincingly, spewing the kind of filthy words he had taught her to use. "I want to feel it dripping out of me tomorrow. I want to hurt."
He growled as she mouthed back at him, a hand coming down sharply on her ass. Sure, this was a reunion of sorts, but there was no way she should have forgotten who was in charge here. She was strung taut like a bow beneath him, her delicate wrists suspended from the chains that bound her to the headboard, even as her knees came under her to support her as best they could.
He hadn't felt so connected to his wife in months. Their play was nice, but nothing reconnected them like a nice, deep fuck. His hand tightened on her hips as he approached his finish, fighting it back in an attempt to make the moment last. There was a power behind taking her apart that he didn't get anywhere else. With filthy words dripping from her lips, he fumbled for the toy, determined to bring her off right along with him.
He pressed it punishingly against her, biting at her shoulders as his hips stuttered and stilled against her ass, a guttural moan leaving him. "Fuck, yes... gonna watch my cum drip out of ya for hours, baby... gonna fuck ya every time you seem like ya recover. You're all mine... all day. Wouldn't want ya to forget who ya belong to, Valentine..."
"Yours," she agreed breathlessly as he kept at it with stubborn determination, bringing the vibrator back into the equation. "No one else's… Ever again…"
It was a promise made many months ago that neither of them had any intention of breaking. There would surely be bruises on her hips tomorrow, a swollen bite mark at the crook of her shoulder from where he dug his filthy teeth in. Lydia loved it. It stung badly like he'd broken skin. The idea that he was tasting her blood was taboo and nasty enough to bring her to another quaking peak even without the toy's interference.
She writhed and yowled like a hellcat, bucking her hips back against his to get it deeper, harder, faster— make it hurt. With his large, hulking form lodged solidly over her, she didn't make much leeway, but it was the thought that counted.
He couldn't hold out. As she wailed and pressed back against him, he let go completely, jack-rabbiting into her punishingly until he was orgasming himself, pumping her tight cunt full of his seed once again. Feeling her sufficiently marked, he pulled free of her and watched his cum dribble back, sliding in thick, pearlescent globs down her soft slit. He slapped her ass firmly just to watch her squirm.
"Fuck, baby... look at you... god, I could spend all day fuckin you... n' I think I might." He slipped his flagging cock back into her, freeing her bonds with a wave of his hand and pullover to lay on her side, cradled against his round gut.
"Happy Valentine's Day, kitten... I love ya so much..."
Her ass cheeks were good and red by now, having suffered several vicious slaps throughout their rutting. When he removed the ties that bound her, she fell limp and boneless to the thin, creaking mattress, heart pounding as though she'd just finished one of her runs.
"Missed you so bad…" she admitted again, pulling his arms tighter around her to force an extra snug cuddle. These times were the best; when she was too tired to be bratty and he was too satisfied to be a dick.
"I didn't even realize how long it had been. It wasn't even a thought. How did I not notice? Stupid…"
Gently, she traced over the imprint of his teeth over her neck, savoring the slight sting. It would be a lovely reminder of their tryst in the days to come.
"I love you too, Beej. All I want to do is stay down here all day and be bad… but…"
A splinter of worry dampened her post-coital haze as honey eyes swept over the door to the outside world.
"It's probably not okay to leave them tranced-out like that too long. They'll be up all night."
They talked a big game amid vigorous fucking, but they were parents now and with that came the crushing oppression of responsibility.
He curled into her tighter, as requested by her arms wrapped tightly around him. His hands roamed her back and down to her sore ass, taking stock of every bruise and scrape their coupling had caused.
"I know, I know... we can't stay down here all day for real. Not without a sitter or something. Just upstairs where we can poof up there."
He rolled away from her carefully, summoning an ornately embroidered robe and nightgown for her to wear. He kissed her gently and stood, clothing himself with a snap.
"Let's go get our girls. Maybe we can go on a family outing today... lunch or something." She needed to get off of their grounds, but he would never deny her taking the girls with them,
The nightgown was beautiful; long, soft, and black with a deep dip in the neck to make up for its looseness and modesty everywhere else. The robe itself was like the most delicate layer of a kimono, silky and crimson with a raven and a serpent caught in a beautiful dance along the back, silvery lilac spider webs crawling up the arms.
"Beej, it's gorgeous!" She admired and praised his taste, taking his hand when he offered and going up on her tiptoes to leave a firm kiss on his cheek. "You should just come work with me and Ginger. I bet she doesn't know how talented you are."
It wasn't a serious suggestion, though Lydia was admittedly green with envy that he could just wave his hand to create something this beautiful. He would never want to work in a Lady's clothing shop all day, especially if his wife would be constantly turning down his advances.
As soon as they stepped foot upstairs, Holly and Ivy blinked awake, beginning to fuss when they didn't immediately see their mother. When Lydia entered the kitchen, Tilly and Bubby were licking their little cheeks, doing what they could to calm what had the potential to be an explosive temper tantrum.
"Ssshhhh sh sh sh," Lydia fawned, wincing when she stooped down to retrieve them from their special twin bouncer and the motion upset abused internal muscles.
"I know, I know, we're a bad Mommy and Daddy," she hushed in a babying voice over their sable and blonde heads. Carrying them to the living room, she nestled in the corner of the couch, sliding the malleable material of the nightgown out of the way so they could latch on to what they really wanted.
"Want to go meet the rest of the Neitherworld today? Daddy wants to take his girls out on the town…"