Read Because (Seven Year Itch #4) for Free Online Page B

apart at the seams and he’s just begun. I don’t know how much it will take to bring me over the edge, but I’m about to find out.
    Brandon uses his middle finger to drive inside of me first. I can feel his fingernail as it makes it’s exploration. I want to kiss my husband, but it’s out of the question. I’ll have to appreciate all the other good things he knows how to do to me instead. I watch as he lowers down. I expect him to use his mouth, but instead he only watches what he’s already doing. He leans his head against my inner thigh for a closer view. My breathing is strained as I try to contain myself. “I want to watch your pussy contract when I make you come, Shay. Show me how good I make you feel,” he says while applying a circular pattern against my swollen clit. I’m becoming weak, my knees shaking as I crumble. I’m losing my grip and it’s what he wants. I hear him groaning as I begin to crescendo. Tiny cries escape my lips as waves of euphoria come crashing down. I’m withering, breathless, and completely content.
    Bran rises to his feet and brings his lips to my forehead. He holds them there for a brief moment and then backs away. “We need to stop fighting and find a common ground, Shay. Not just for Ab, but for us too. Something has to give. When you’re a bitch none of us can be happy. I’m sorry I didn’t answer the call, but I don’t need your permission to do things. I shouldn’t have to go through hell every time I want to walk out the door. Get over yourself. If you can’t then I don’t know what to tell you anymore.”
    I watch him exit the shower but say nothing. He’s right. Something has to give, and I’m sick of waiting for him to make the change. If I want something done right I’m sure as hell going to have to do it myself.
    I hate admitting it, but maybe he has a point. Moping around miserable wasn’t helping me change the way our relationship has molded into a loveless cesspool of negativity. I wasn’t the only one to blame, though. If he treated me better I wouldn’t feel so insecure. The monotony of our lifestyle has turned us into people I no longer wanted to admit exist. I wasn’t just living a lie, it was more like I was putting up a façade for everyone else to see, while drowning in an ocean of denial.
    Something had to give for sure.
    If it didn’t I was afraid where our life was headed.
    People couldn’t understand what it was like for me. They assumed abuse was physical. On the outside I was still the same person I’d always been; a little extra baggage affixed to my ass, but the same general happy-go-lucky personality. Only the few closest to me heard me complain about our troubles, and in all honesty I was too ashamed to admit everything I lived with on a daily basis.
    Denial is a bitch to accept.
    Seven years of marriage and I couldn’t remember the last time I went a day without shedding a tear. I tried to mask my emotions by acting as if my marriage was a beautiful example of how two young people could manage to make it work. I’d go as far as to conjure up lies in order to hide the truth.
    My husband wasn’t there for me – not when I needed him to be, with the exception of it having to do with Aberdeen. There was always something more important going on in his life.
    Don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t a terrible person. Contrary to how I may be making him seem, he was a genuinely kind person. He helped anyone that asked, and offered assistance even when they didn’t. He was generous and considerate to everyone he came in contact with, with me being the only exception. When he came home he was a different person. All of his frustrations were taken out on me, as if I was some kind of emotional punching bag. I didn’t get it. Where had I gone wrong? Why did he hate me?
    Then I thought about what we’d just done together. Was he only fulfilling his own selfish needs or did he want me as much as I always wanted him? I didn’t understand him at