I am Broken

I am Broken
Emilia's POV

I didn't let him get so near to me as I pulled his shirt, dragging him with me to the bathroom.
“At least, let me hug you, Emilia. I can't possibly smell that bad.” He said, sniffing himself for a moment. His nostrils must be clogged, because no hint of disgust came onto his lips as he smelled himself.
His hands moved to wrap around my waist again, and I slapped them off. “You aren't touching me until you are bathed.” I snapped. I sounded like a reproaching mother, but I didn't care.
I pulled him into the bathroom, and I helped him take off his shirt. I tossed it to the floor, brushing my fingers from the filth, as it smelled really bad.
His chest used to ripple with abs and taut muscles that I always found myself staring at. Now, the showy squares that marked his packs were missing. No more chiseled abs. In its place was an overbloated belly, pumped with alcohol.
“When last did you even have your bath, Sebastian?” I asked, looking up at him, while I took off his pants.
“Since the day you went missing and we found you unconscious in your family's barn.”
My fingers stilled on his pants, my lips curled tight with distaste. “That was about six to seven weeks ago, Sebastain.”
“Well, I wasn't keeping count, wife.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “To me it might as well have been a day. I was too lost without you to do anything. That's why I told you I can't survive without you, my wife.” He said.
For a moment I was speechless, not knowing what to say as I replied. I had to swallow to get the clog in my throat out because I couldn't find my words. “Shouldn't you be a strong, confident, and powerful duke? You don't need me to live. You need yourself.”
For a moment he was silent too. I heard the rumble in his alcohol-pumped belly still, and I could tell it was as a result of his heartbeat stilling as well. “I was never a strong, confident, and powerful Duke, wife. I was always broken, always in need of repair. I am very much a child inside, trapped in my own mind and scared of the darkness that holds me prisoner. I was always weak, always teetering on a cliff, about to fall, about to trip into that bottomless abyss of darkness I had been crawling from all my life. When I met you for that first time ten years ago, I believed there was hope for me, that you could save me before I spiraled down into that cliff, but then you left. I hung tight to the promise of your return for ten years, and you did. And then I thought you wouldn't leave now, but you did again. You left me, and you left me more broken than before, far more broken, because that signalled the end of my hope.” He paused.
He didn't sound a bit teary, but still, pain echoed in every syllable he uttered. My fingers stilled on the hem of his pants as I listened to him. I sniffed, muffling my sob by pressing the back of my hand to my mouth. My chest burned, as my eyes did, with tears.
“But you leaving isn't what broke me the most, wife. It was the fact that you said you hated me and always did, right before you left again. And I totally understand why you said that. You were very angry at me because I risked your friend’s life. But you have to understand that when the only shred of hope you hang onto says she hates you, it breaks you more than ever. It rips you apart…”
I dropped his pants then, and I looked up to him now, to the eyes red with the weight of what they held. I threw my arms around his neck, pushing my lips fast into his to stop him from speaking, completely disregarding the smell. I sucked hard at his lips, licking them as much as the heavy beard allowed, pulling down his neck for more.
He grabbed my waist, pulling tighter to the broadness of his body, and he kissed me silly too. By the time we decided to drop each other, I was breathless, panting hard.
I grabbed his head then, cupping his heavily bearded jaw in my small hands, and I looked right into his beautiful orbs, the silver sheen in them gleaming.
“I never hated you, Sebastain, and I never will. I have always loved you, and I always will.”
He held my waist tighter, pressing me to his bigger body, while he looked right into my eyes too, as if searching for my soul through them. “Will you promise me not to leave me again, wife? You are my world, my anchor. Without you I am lost in this darkness inside of me, and without you I am weak. Your presence in my life is where I draw strength, power, and confidence. Without you, I am just a scared little boy, trapped in a darkness…”
I pressed my thumb on his lips, silencing him. “You don't need to launch into so much monologue, Sebastian.” I pulled his head low to have our foreheads pressing hard against each other's. I giggled excitedly as I held his head firmly. “I can't promise forever, but I am staying for long this time, Sebastian. At least for ten years.”
“Are you sure!” His eyes brightened, and he dropped back, his head tilted questioningly at me. “Are you really sure, Wife?” He asked.
“Yes!” I gasped in reply, as I suddenly ran out of breath again, as my insides fluttered hard with incitement inside of me, stealing every bit of air in me.
“That's great, Emilia. That's…” He was screaming as he moved to hug me, but I stopped him.
I held my nose tight, and I dragged him by his broad waist to the bathtub. I kept my eyes on his face so they wouldn't drop to his hard, rock cock, which extended out of him, insistent, like a rod.
“You have had enough kisses and hugs with your dirty self. Get cleaned up first, and we will continue.” I scolded.
“Okay then.” He chimed like an excited kid, and then he jumped into the bathtub, turning on the faucet himself. He snatched the soap and a sponge and was scrubbing himself. I chuckled as I grabbed a pair of scissors and a razor from a rack behind the bathtub. I sat behind him on a raised slab, positioned his head closer to me, and began to cut his hair and beard off while he washed himself.
I giggled as I grabbed chunk after chunk of his hair and cut them off with scissors. I realized then that he wasn’t just my husband. He was my first kid.
After he was bathed, and I had returned him fairly to the husband I left behind six weeks ago, we returned to the bedroom. His hair was shaven now, and so was his beard, and he smelled much more like the lavender-scented soap he used, although there was nothing I could do about his alcohol-pumped belly. That was a job for another day.
I decided to tidy up his bed. While I turned my back to him as he dressed himself. At least, I thought he was dressing himself, because he suddenly crept behind me, wrapping himself around me.
He leaned his head on my shoulder, his breath fanning my ears, as he whispered. “I am clean now. Why don’t we continue where we left off earlier, wife? I am burning for you.”
I let myself get soaked up in the warmth of his hug and body. I giggled then, “Why not, but wait, let me tidy up the bed first…”
He spun me around before I could reach for the bedsheets again. “The bed doesn't matter, wife. The maids would deal with it later.” He said.
“But…”
The rest of the words crashed out of my throat as he sealed his lips on mine, his fingers attacking the laces of my dress as if they were the wires with which he needed to disarm a nitrogen bomb.
He took the dress off me, having it fall at my feet, and he attacked my lingerie next. The towel on his waist dropped, and then his cock, rock hard, prodded my stomach, insistent and hungry for me.
He grabbed my waist and dropped me on the bed, his lips firm on mine, while his fingers moved down my legs, brushing the warm, tense skin of my thighs as he took off my panties.
The instant they were off, his massive cock pushed into me, stretching me apart, inch by inch, until he was all the way in. A loud, rich, aching moan that rang through my throat and made it vibrate like a bell ripped off from me, only to crash against his mouth as he sucked ferociously on my lips.
Suddenly, his eyes went blank again, and he pulled away from my lips, slipping his cock out of my sex. His lips parted, and strings of nonsense poured out again in a furious torrent, and he moved off the bed and away from me.
My heart sank as I watched the darkness claim him again. But I wasn't giving up. I wasn't. I grabbed his arms, jerking him to me, so our eyes met.
Then I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips on his, silencing his nonsense. He didn't move or return my kiss for a while, but soon, he grabbed onto my waist and rode me up the bed, latching onto my lips like he never wanted to be parted again from them.
“I love you, wife.” He moaned against my lips, and just as I moved my lips to reply, his cock pushed into me again, stretching me out and freezing the words on my lips.