Madness: A Dark Revenge Romance

Madness: EPILOGUE TWO



EIGHTEEN YEARS LATER

Her bitch of a mother injected me with shit to make me live a long and healthy life. I’m not sure how much I took or how long it added to my life, but every time I look at my wife, my chest tightens, thinking of having to live a day without her. She has it too… but that doesn’t mean either of us is bulletproof.

I used to never care if I lived or died, but now death is often on my mind. The one thing I keep coming back to is if she dies before me, I’ll put a fucking bullet in my brain the day I lose her. But then I look at our children. They would need me. Our kids are strong, but to lose both parents on the same day? And one of those being due to suicide? I’d hate to leave them to the Lords to fend for themselves.

I’ve never been sick. Not a cold since they dragged me out of that place. Not a single gray hair. I’m in my home gym at least five days a week. I feel great, and I hate it. I push myself every day to do more and lift heavier—I’m the biggest and strongest I’ve ever been—to try to hurt myself but nothing happens. And Charlotte? She’s more gorgeous than ever.

She gave me three sons, and if it were up to me, I’d keep her knocked up forever. But carrying triplets wasn’t easy for her, even with the founder’s enhancements. She was on bed rest for most of her pregnancy, and the boys came early via emergency C-section. Devin and Gavin both assured us that wasn’t uncommon when it comes to triplets, and we knew early on that it wasn’t going to be a vaginal delivery. It didn’t ease my worry for my wife and children.

I had my vasectomy reversed two months after my brothers saved me. Charlotte and I have never stopped trying to have more kids, but it just never happened. Gavin said that it wasn’t a guarantee. That the percentage of it to take was ninety to ninety-five percent. Unfortunately, I didn’t have those results. That doesn’t mean I’m not thankful for what we do have.

Our house has been full of laughter and craziness. Raising three boys—future Spade brothers—hasn’t been easy, but I couldn’t have found a better partner to share it with.

All three of our sons want to join the Lords. Of course, Charlotte isn’t totally thrilled about it, but she told me she expected it. They’re all reckless and unapologetic like I was at their age.

“How is it?” I ask Devin as I stand with my arms crossed over my chest, looking at one of our demons.

“It’s looking good,” Devin answers, eyeing the stitches in my son’s thigh. “Healing nicely.” He rolls his chair over to the cabinet, and my son sits up on the table, then jumps off. He pulls his jeans up over his boxer briefs and zips them up.

“I told you guys it was no big deal.” He shrugs carelessly.

“Two inches to the left, and it would have severed your femoral artery.” Devin glares at him. “You would have bled out.”

My son’s blue eyes meet mine as he smirks, and I shake my head. That’s a boy in love. “You know your mother once stabbed me.” I chuckle at the memory.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

His lips pull back with disgust. “Gross, Dad. I don’t want to know about any kinks you and Mom have.”

“You know they say sexual fetishes are hereditary,” I add.

He makes a gagging sound, and Devin just laughs.

“Come on.” I slap my son’s back. “You’re late for school.”

He slides his leather jacket on and thanks Devin. Our boys are good kids, but I’m not going to say that they don’t destroy shit on a daily basis. They’ve been unstoppable since the moment they learned to crawl. Charlotte and I have been chasing them ever since.

His phone rings, and he removes it from his pocket. “Hello?” he answers. His eyes meet mine for a brief second before he rushes to hang up. “I’ll call you back.”

“Who was that?” I ask, knowing he didn’t want me to hear his conversation.

“It was Sawyer.” He fixes the collar on his leather jacket. A sign he’s lying.

“Oh yeah? What did your brother have to say?” I check my watch. It’s almost ten. “Shouldn’t he be in class?”

“He’s running late.” He waves me off, doubling down on his lie.

“I see,” I say, letting it go. “Well, have a great day at school,” I holler as we exit the double doors of Carnage.

“See ya, Dad.” He jumps into his car and squeals his tires taking off. He’s in a hurry to get to wherever he’s going, and I’m not sure if that’s school.

The boy’s mind is only on one thing, and it’s a girl. I can’t blame him, though. Mine is always on his mother. Charlotte gave me a life I only ever thought existed outside our world.

Walking down to my car, I get in and exit Carnage. Taking the short drive across the street to the opposite gate. Getting out, I enter the house my wife and I built years ago. She loved my house in the woods, so she designed one like it, but only bigger and better. She filled it with color and life.

A picture of us hangs in the grand foyer. She’s wearing the white dress she wore the first night I saw her, and I’m in a black tux. It’s from our tenth anniversary when we renewed our vows. I can’t go back and change the night we got married but I tried to give her something…more. Even when she told me she didn’t need it. What makes it even better is our three boys—Adler, Keller and Sawyer—are in it with us.

She still has the dress. And once a year, she wears it for me. I take her out to dinner and show my wife off to the world. I’m proud to call her mine. The following morning, I surprise her with a honeymoon trip. She never asks what I have planned or what I’m going to do to her. She trusts me with her life, and I love to keep her guessing. As much as I love to see her dressed up, I also love to see her begging and crying for me to fuck her like a desperate little whore. And she loves it too.

“Doll face?” I holler, removing my jacket and tossing it over the round table in the grand foyer, knowing she’ll get on to me later for it.

“In the bathroom,” she calls out.

Smiling, I make my way to our primary suite. Entering the bathroom, I find her standing at the counter, wearing nothing but a white towel tucked under her arms. Her long dark hair is up in a messy bun, and her makeup is done on the light side. The bathtub gurgles as the water and bubbles drain.

“How was Adler’s appointment?” she asks, her pretty blue eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

“Good. Devin said everything looks great.” I come up behind her and undo the towel, letting it fall at her feet. Her body is still wet in some areas from her bath, and she’s got bubbles on her shoulder.

My hand massages her ass cheek that still has my name branded on it. I promised I’d never take my wedding ring off, but I broke that promise shortly after I made it. I removed it to get her name tattooed on my ring finger. She had told me that she wanted to legally change her name to Charlotte. I wanted her to know that I supported her decision.

Charlotte Bailey Reeves is the name she chose. Bailey was her father’s middle name. She wanted him to still be a part of her life.

Pulling away, she turns to face me and throws her arms around my neck, wrapping one leg around my hip. “I don’t have to be back at the spa for a few more hours.” The pregnancy took a lot out of my wife and after the boys arrived, she wanted to spend as much time as she could with them. She eventually took over the spa her mother owned and made it her own. “How long before you have to go back to work?” she asks.

I lower my hand to grab her ass and push my lips to hers, whispering against them. “I’m going to spend my day watching you get off, doll face.”

“Haidyn,” she groans, pushing her hips into mine. I’m so fucking hard for her. “I have to go in later…”

“No. You don’t.” She has a great team that works for her. They can handle the day without her. “How’s that sound, Charlotte? Want to be my good girl coming all over herself?” I love forcing her to come over and over. My wife is gorgeous, but there’s just something so fucking sexy watching her turn into a blubbering mess while she’s covered in cum.

“Yes. Please.” She leans forward to kiss me, and I pull away, making her growl in frustration.

My free hand drops between her legs, and I run my fingers over her pussy. She’s wet. Not as much as I want but I’ll get her there. Letting go of her, I slap my name branded on her ass. “Rip everything off the bed except the fitted sheet. I’ll be right there.”

I turn and enter the closet and then press a code to open the secret door. Entering the room, I grab my bag and drop it onto the table in the center of the room and then go to the wall and grab everything I need. My wife designed this house just how she wanted it. And we knew we had three kids on the way. So she made sure we had a private room where I could do whatever I wanted to her. Even after the boys move out, I’ll still use it to play with her.

Going back to the bedroom, she sits on the edge of the bed, waiting on me like the good girl she is. Her workday long forgotten. I drop the bag at her feet and kneel. I grab the first item and hold it up to her face.

Her breathing picks up as her heavy sapphire-colored eyes meet mine. “Don’t want me to beg?”

I give her a smile. “Oh, you will.”

She opens her mouth for me, and I push the black rubber ball into it and buckle the back. Looking over her beautiful face, I run my thumb over her pretty pink-painted lips while her heavy breathing fills our room. Leaning down, I give her forehead a soft kiss and instruct her to lie on the bed.

Taking my time, I tie her in place, loving the sound of her muffled moans and whimpers. Once I’m done, I stand back and admire my wife.

She’s lying in the center of our bed—doggy position—her legs spread wide, each ankle tied to either end of the footboard. Her back is arched with her smooth ass and pussy up in the air. Her arms are underneath her. Wrists tied together with the excess rope tied to the center of the footboard.

Her head is to the side, facing me. Big, watery eyes look up at me with a ball gag in her mouth. She’s not going anywhere. I grab the last thing and lean over the bed. She speaks unintelligible words into the gag, and I smile, showing her what I’ve got in my hand. “I’m going to stuff your cunt with this, Charlotte. And you’re going to lie here face down, tied to our bed for an hour.” Her eyes widen, and she pulls on the rope. The movement makes her lashes flutter, and she moans at the lack of movement the rope allows her. My little rope bunny. “Then I’ll remove the gag and let you beg me to fuck your ass.”

I kiss her cheek and then slowly insert the dildo into her now soaked cunt. Then I place the hourglass on the dresser in her line of sight. Having to watch time makes it drag on. And then having to count her orgasms on top of that…she’ll be a mess by the time I fuck her.

My cell rings and I get off the bed and pull it out of my pocket. Looking at the caller ID, I open the double doors to the wraparound porch and hit answer, walking out onto it. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you long,” he says in greeting.

“You’re fine. I’ve got all day.” I smile, turning to watch my wife squirm, hearing me speak. She’ll spend all day being my whore. Then I’ll take her out to dinner and show off what’s mine.

“My wife just informed me that we’ll be in town this weekend, so I was wondering if you guys will be available for dinner?”

“Yeah,” I tell him. “Of course.”

“Perfect. I’ll tell her to reach out to Charlotte, and they can plan it.”

“Sounds good, man,” I say, and he hangs up.

Walking back into the bedroom, I go to the app on my phone and turn on the vibrating dildo that’s in her pussy, and she begins to moan. Her ass rocks back and forth as if she’s fucking my cock. “That’s it, doll face.” I rub her ass. “Feel that?” I turn it up, and her legs begin to shake. “One hour,” I remind her. “You’re to lie here and come all over yourself for me, Charlotte. Make sure you count each one.”

I hear her cell beep, and I go to the bathroom to pick it up and see it’s a message in a group chat the wives have.

J: Who is free this weekend for dinner?

I lock the screen and place it back down. My wife can respond later tonight. She’s booked for the day.

Going back to the bedroom, I walk over to the mini bar. I pour myself a glass of scotch and sit down in one of the chairs over by the open French doors. Taking a sip, I watch her struggle, loving the muffled sounds that come out of her gagged mouth.

Men like me aren’t lucky. We see what we want, and we take it. As I look at the photos she’s framed and hung up of our family over the years, I see the life that I never knew was possible. I guess it doesn’t matter when I die. Charlotte gave me a life that I didn’t deserve, and even if I’m lucky enough to spend forever with her, it still wouldn’t be enough.

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