The Unwanted Marriage

Chapter 14: Trying

Aimee’s POV

I maintained my eyes on the road. I can sense Clyver’s side glances throughout the drive. I displayed a stoic expression and tried to hide my nervousness every time his stare gets longer than 5 seconds. I don’t want him to give the satisfaction that we’re already fine because we’re not. Instead of being distracted by him, I focused on driving his car.

I won’t lie. My insides wanted to do a happy little dance when I first shifted the gear. This is not my first time driving a sports car but the excitement of being a first-timer feels the same. Whenever the road is clear, I’m hitting the gas. I can sense my husband wanting to scold me, but I hear nothing. I lost count on how many times I had to bite my inner cheeks to stop myself from giggling whenever I drifts the car. I can hear Clyver drawing a harsh breath. I witnessed how overprotective he is of his car. I am angry at him, but it does not mean I’m going to hurt his precious baby. Of course, I’m driving safely. I just got too excited sometimes.

My excitement easily died down when we reached the main road. I slowly hit the break due to the traffic ahead of us.

“Want me to drive?” he asked when he notice the traffic is too long and I already made several sighs and shamelessly showed him my slumped shoulders.

“It’s fine,” I said even my foot is itching to hit the gas.

Since I was a kid, I love playing with cars than dolls but my mom—as conservative as she is—wanted me to play with “girly” toys instead. But I’m glad that every Christmas, they didn’t fail to buy me a toy car. Thanks to dad, mom didn’t choose a pink barbie car for me. When I grew up, I notice I like adventurous activities such as hiking, scuba diving, and even gun firing. My father once brought me into a firing range. I almost do not want to go home, making my mom not let me go the second time I and dad planned to go back.

I rested my back at the backrest and sighed. The traffic’s very heavy and the cars are already bumper to bumper. My eyes landed at the dashboard where the clock from the car is placed. ‘4:37 pm’, I said in my mind. No wonder it's traffic. Rush hour is approaching.

I can now feel the tiredness of a 2-hour long drive and counting. I hate traffics—who doesn’t?! Aside from me, my feet wearing 4-inches heels are not happy. My arms shivered in cold. Although I’m in my white flared pants, I’m wearing a plain black haltered top. I blamed myself for not wearing a coat.

“Can I lower down the AC?” I asked when I couldn’t stand myself shivering.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered.

I was about to reach for the aircon but he did it himself. “Thanks,” I uttered.

Aside from the several honks from other cars in the middle of the traffic, the drive was quiet. I felt a rough yet gentle hand caressing my thighs. When I turned in Clyver’s direction, his eyes are darted in front while his right fingers are tapping his legs.

I returned my eyes to the road and continued driving when the cars started moving. In our months of marriage, I already understand some of his non-verbal gestures. His left hand started stroking my thigh up and down. Sometimes, it brushed on the inner part of my thigh up to my private.

“Clyver, I’m driving,” I warned. He immediately removed his hand from mine.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Once again, our car went silent. The sky’s color is now a mixture of orange and red. Suddenly, random thoughts started running in my mind until they went to our current status.

“Why did you do it?” The words escaped from my mouth unnoticed. In my peripheral vision, I saw him looking at me.

He sighed. “I was wrong.”

I wanted to chuckle. But instead of sarcastically laughing, I ended up hissing. “You only realize it by now?” What he did was f*cked up. I let pass the fact that he has a girlfriend even we’re already married. I accepted that he is refusing to settle down with me and take everything seriously because he loved Pearl. But now that I witnessed that he’s also cheating on her, I wonder how long this has been. Does Pearl know?

People around us are aware he’s having an affair. That’s why Mr. Finnson is sour to him. I know his relationship with Pearl and even I don’t fully agree with this setup, at least I’m aware. I’m starting to think what his girlfriend would think if she found out what her boyfriend did.

“Is Pearl aware?” I asked before shifting the gear to drive. Finally, we passed the long irritating traffic!

His stares went longer than usual. I can sense him weighing how he will deliver his words. Honestly, from all that has been done in our relationship, what happened yesterday was the breakthrough. I’m done caring. What happens happens. Because no matter how long we talk, he won’t change his ways unless he wanted to.

“She knows.”

Surprisingly, I’m not surprised. That is how he handles his relationship with me—by telling me openly he’s with someone else and I should accept it rather than start an argument or pick a fight.

“She’s aware you’re dating that specific girl named Erica?”

It took him long before answering. “No. But she’s aware I’m going out with someone else.”

I can already see our house from this distance. I hit the gas, wanting to reach it faster. I felt hot… and suffocated—contrary to what I felt earlier.

“And she’s okay with that…” just like me.

“Yeah,” he languidly answered.

My insides are starting to boil up. I can feel the beads of sweat crawling down the sides of my head. How come he can play us all and follow what he wanted? I’m a smart woman but why did I let this happen to me?

Now I know how f*cked up it sounds to others. I am so stupid of me to think he’s going to change if I wait. It is his decision to walk this path. He wanted girls even I am here. No wonder Janine keeps on pushing me to take a stand and remove his girls. I always respond to her that it is not my decision to make. Why would I want to fight over a man who doesn’t want me in the first place? I will never stoop down on their level.

The garage gates automatically opened. I rushed to park our car and unbuckled my bed to hop out. I went to the other side of the car door. The confused Clyver stepped out of his car when he saw me waiting.

I don’t understand myself too. I’m angry, frustrated, and sad. Overall, I’m confused. I did not wait for him to completely close his car door. I grabbed his collar and pushed him back into his car. He was a bit startled by what I did, making him completely stunned. I took the advantage as I grab the back of his head and pull him to collide our lips.

I feel so hot that even I’m wearing a sleeveless halter top, I can feel my skin shedding tears. Clyver soon danced with my rhythm. His hands went on the sides of my waist while we walk inside without breaking our kiss.

My back felt the closed door. I search for the doorknob and twisted it open. A whimper escaped my lips when Clyver scooped me up without a warning. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist. I can feel his manhood hardened, making me sweat even more.

Both of his hands scooped my lower back to support my weight. He then pulled away from our kisses, leaving my lips parted. Our gazes met each other. His hooded eyes dropped at my chest. I glanced at it and saw that it turned red. That is how my body responded whenever I’m horny. I bit my lower lip when I realizes he noticed it. A smirk flashed on his lips.

“Let’s go to our room,” he huskily said. Due to my haywire thoughts and confused mind, I nodded.

Our lips found their way to each other. We stopped midstep on the stairs and Clyver put me down without breaking our kiss. His hand supported my back while the other went to caress my upper privates. It trailed down my still buttoned trousers. My head fell back when his hand successfully reached my cave and cupped it.

“Clyver…” I moaned. Two of his fingers put pressure on it by moving in a circular motion, making me cry for more.

He leaned forward towards my ears. His lips brushed on my lobe and his voice sent shivers down my spine. “I can feel your wetness behind your trousers, Aimee.”

That was the last thing I heard before he lifted me up before finding myself in our bed. He started planting soft kisses on my neck while his hands are busy unbuttoning my trousers.

“Ohh!” I sensually cried when he inserted his hands inside. His touch and kisses made me feel dizzy. He left my neck and leveled his face on me. I looked at him straight in the eye while his finger moved my panties aside. Without breaking our eye contact and without giving me a warning, he slid two of his fingers inside of me. A bit of embarrassment visited my system when his fingers went in smoothly—an indication that I am very wet. “F*ck,” I murmured to myself.

He started thrusting his fingers. I bit my lower lip and my eyes went half-closed. I tried to maintain looking at him while he’s doing a great job down there. He’s too good on this. And the fact that I am not the only girl who had experienced it made me angry. I felt my inside building up, but I am not certain if it is because of what I feel towards his girls or the reality that I am loving what he is doing with my body.

As his moves went faster, my cries went louder. “Clyver!” I called, giving him a warning that I’m nearing my climax. However, instead of removing his fingers just like he usually does whenever he’s fingering me, this time, he let me finish.

I weakly let my body feel the comfort of our bed. I was out of energy only by what he did. “You let me finish,” I said with a sleepy voice. My lids are getting heavier every second and I am starting to doze off.

“I did,” he whispered while removing my top and planting soft kisses in my mounds as if he’s praising them.

“Why? You don’t like it if I finish first.” It’s true. Every time we’re doing foreplay, he doesn’t let me reach my climax because according to him, I get sleepy and weak right after it.

“An apology, I guess.”

His voice faded but I still understood what he said. Even my mind couldn’t function well due to sleepiness, one word comes up from it.

‘Assh*le.’ No matter what, he’s still an assh*le.

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Unedited. Expect typo, spelling, and grammatical errors.

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The Unwanted Marriage

by: Joanne Cristel

©2021

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