BABY FOR MY HONEY

HIS ROLE IN HER LIFE

CHAPTER 3

The choices I made in life, good or bad, shaped the person I am today. Therefore, there should be no room for regrets…unfortunately, I have one. That one decision haunted me most nights, even after six years, even after I thought everything would be alright. Guilt lingered.

Since a year ago, my months have turned like this. I was meeting a devastatingly handsome man once or twice a month. No emotions involved, just a union of flesh, satisfying both our hunger for flesh.

His nights were fiery and passionate, with or without me. Whereas me, my nights were cold and solitary without him. For a year now, this has been a routine. Every time Devlin was in New York, we spent a day or two together, so long as it was not a weekend.

New York and California--USA miles apart, end-to-end. Devlin traveled the flight distance, transversing at least ten states, flying for hours in his private jet. Not always just to see me as he has business commitments most of the time, but– yeah! He traveled that long so we could be together.

As part of our agreement, I would make time for him as long as it was not a weekend. My weekends were reserved for my aging parents. That was what I told him, and that was what he knew. It was not the truth.

All my office breaks were reserved for our time together. Odd as it may seem, this arrangement was what I asked from him.

His recently acquired apartment in Central Park West was not entirely to his liking, but it was the nearest to what he liked. He bought it three months ago and had served as our beehive or dovecote, lovenest in layman’s terms, but we were not exactly lovers.

Every time he was here was supposed to be a romantic escapade for us, but it was really for my passion, my need for a man to satisfy my carnal craving. But for him–perhaps an act of revenge.

Devlin despised me for years. He hated me to the bone. He left me and came to California when we separated almost five years ago, never intending to come back and see me again, but we met last year through some twist of fate. We talked, I begged.

I begged him for the arrangement we have right now, and I prayed that he wouldn’t leave me for good.

My driver drove and dropped me in the lobby of the posh building. I have my pass with me to enter the building without delay. The entire premise was heavily guarded. What could be expected from a posh two-building skyscraper in Manhattan? When it arrived in Central Park, known celebrities and New York’s business tycoons started to dwell in this place.

“Good morning Ms. Price,” the uniformed security personnel greeted me.

“Good morning, Dexter,” I greeted him back with a smile. He was in the late ’30s or early ’40s, and Dexter was always in-charge of the lobby whenever I visited here.

“Mr. Walton had arrived three hours ago,” he informed me.

“Thank you, Dexter,” I flashed another smile and walked towards the elevator.

I pressed the 75th floor as soon as I stepped inside. My stomach still churned each time I rode the elevator. It was not crowded but because the height of Devlin’s unit was like my soul was unbound from the earth. It was so high, and yet, it wasn’t the highest floor.

I stepped out of the elevator and proceeded to the units on the right, which have the perfect view of the conservatory garden below. I entered the unit as soon as I reached it.

Devlin’s apartment was as spotless as always, no one lived there more than four days a month. He had a housekeeper who came every day whenever he was not around, just to clear the space, so it was so clean.

“Devlin?” I called his name, and I couldn’t see him within the open layout of the apartment.

I assumed he was inside the room and slowly made my way there. A piece of soft classical music was floating in the air when I entered the room, and it was his favorite piece.

A man about 190 centimeters in height emerged from the ensuite. His bronze Latino form, still with droplets of water from the shower he took and covered only by a piece of a white towel, strode towards me. He still managed to take my breath away up to this time. Even after six years since I first laid eyes on him, he was still the most devastatingly gorgeous man for me.

His eyes squinted when he saw me, those dark chocolate magnetic optics, scanning every contour of my form as if it was his hands and lips touching every inch of me. I gasped for air, feeling as if the air had been restricted between us.

At least now, those magnetic optics didn’t look at me with rage. There might be irritation, sometimes annoyance, and, many times than I count…with lust, but no longer disgust. I would take whatever he was willing to give, as long as he would allow me to stay with him from time to time. God knows I’d give up everything just not to see those rage ever again.

“You are late–” his deep voice didn’t echo anger nor delight to see me.

“I’m sorry! I know the rules,” I acknowledged. I was wrong. I was delayed for fifteen minutes.

“Strip!” He said while he lazily sat on the couch and checked what I would do next.

“Can I take a shower first?” I asked.

“No–” he declined.

I bobbed my head repeatedly, looking down, and then I stripped my clothes, revealing my bare flesh without a word. I made sure I took off my underthings before I got here.

“Come here,” he uttered. His voice had softened a bit.

I slowly moved toward him, and I sat on his lap. I straddled his thighs, wrapped my arms around his neck, and angled my head to claim his lips.

Devlin wrapped his arms around my body, pressing me closer to him just like I wanted to be. It was a feeling I was immensely enjoying, being in his arms, a feeling of being claimed, a sense of belongingness, while we enjoyed each other.

I kissed him with a hunger that expressed how I had missed his presence the last two weeks. Sorry-- for myself, that we were too far away from each other. Sad-- that I couldn’t have him just like I used to.

Now, I was just contented with what he was willing to give, taking the little that he could partake. I wouldn’t want to greed for more, I just savored the moment we were together. Repeatedly reminding myself that I didn’t even deserve him, so why do I need to ask for more? I have no right. No matter how cruel his treatment of me right now, I deserve it.

I was lucky he was not a naturally cruel person. Devlin wasn’t ruthless. Even at the peak of his anger, he didn't touch a string of my hair, but he had to condition himself to accept me again. This painstaking process was necessary for our healing.

My naked chest and my hips rubbed against his body, and I could feel his arousal poking my center. His feverish kisses made me forget everything else, his hands exploring the curves of my body and even the inside of my opening made me want more. I moaned in unmeasurable pleasure as he devoured me with his mouth and played me with his hands.

I reached for his back, and my hand squeezed hard muscles; my nails were digging into his flesh and even scratching his toned bronze body. His mouth, tongue, and hands made me feel an electrifying sensation all over. When we were engrossed in this fantastic, mind-blowing s*x, intimately expressing intense adoration for each other, the past…our past didn’t matter.

Sometimes, I wish we hadn't stopped our explosive explorations so that...coldness wouldn’t occur between us. I wouldn’t feel hollow...I wouldn’t feel incomplete and unwanted.

Devlin had always been an exquisite lover, he was made for it. He always managed to make me reach the highs I never thought possible. Lust and desire billowed over him as he looked at me while waves and waves of extreme arousal clouded our senses.

We both panted heavily, moaning and grunting as we neared our edge. Devlin intensified the pounding inside me until I almost reached the peak of my carnal desire. After a few more strong thrustings of his length into me, I reached the peak, and he accompanied me-- reaching his own, as we came together, releasing all the heat inside us--our shared state of oblivion.

During our first few months doing this, I couldn’t imagine how we were both able to achieve the perfect union, the mindless heavenly feeling, despite his imminent hatred of me and the guilt that I felt deep in my soul.

I wasn’t sure about him if it was just passion or lust or body heat, but each time we achieved this magical unity, I knew for sure I did not only give him my body, I also gave him my heart and soul.

Devlin Walton, the one and only man I loved and perhaps would love until the end of my life–my husband.

My name until now, until he would let me...Mrs. Sairah Price Walton.