Washed

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She'd laid there underneath her husband until he was satisfied. Feeling what it was like to be numb for the first time left Eastyn Blair heartbroken and hollow. 

A reservoir. 

Grant was unrecognizable from the man she was so grateful to marry. 

Eastyn's husband checked on her in the nearest guest bedroom to ensure his wife woke up with a clear mind and well rested. Mr. Pierre  was never afraid to voice how he didn't want his wife to be a lazy fuck....Let alone a drunk one. So this morning, he'd had his way with her. 

His wife  would never deny him. Her worth was attached to her frame and how she looked on his arm. Refusing Mr. Pierre's desire for her would only lessen her value, make Eastyn less needed. 

Mrs. Pierre wasn't dense.

That's what she was there for so she couldn't fuck it up. 

He'd referenced her middle name upon entering her. Called her Mrs when he stroked her until sunrise, and sexed the blurriness from her head. 

Eastyn came, internally crying at how good and wrong it felt. 

Grant orgasmed shortly after and forced out it was time to give him some babies. 

Eastyn laid in grief. 

She'd tried to give him 3 already...within the last year. 

Lost their last little angel two and a half months ago and the man didn't even notice. Eastyn carried life four months with no announcement to make sure it was viable. Two nights before she gleamed to tell her spouse the good news, God made her out to be a liar. Took her gift and returned it to sender without warning and Mr. Pierre didn't even care a little bit enough to notice. Grant fussed that his wife's moods weren't becoming of her lately while speaking with Eastyn on the phone. 

Mr. Pierre hadn't been home for months being out of the country on business. And right now, all he wanted was for his wife to fucking greet him like she missed him. He wanted his spouse to get him off over the phone and be ready in the lingerie he liked after he returned home. Grant scolded Eastyn and said she was spoiled rotten. That all he wanted was some peace and a good fuck when he got home next week and needed a little peek to hold him over. 

"I've had a stressful day Blair."

Her middle name. 

"Don't start complaining. I just want to talk to my wife. I want to see you before I go to bed.  You're in one of your little sulking moods today. Didn't you go shopping?" 

She'd lost their tiny love last night and wasn't feeling up to the activities of the day. Eastyn obliged in peace, crying silently.

"You're right." Mrs. Pierre wiped her face. "I can FaceTime you in about 10 minutes."

She could sense his naughty smirk through the phone, "Make sure you have on my favorite. I love looking at it on you." 

That's what drove Eastyn back to drinking. 

To be saved. 

Married. 

A trophy wife.

Living lavish and honoring her husband by looking good. Being put together,  obedient, and making babies were the only things Mr. Pierre required of her...and so far she could only accomplish one out of three.  

Cattle. 

That's what Grant thought she was. Some type of living livestock that wasn't a human being. 

"I adore you Blair." Grant spoke in her ear. "You mean the world to me"

Eastyn smiled softly, hoping her face wouldn't crack from internalizing the grief and humiliation she was drowning in. 

"No more drinking." He scooped her up and headed towards their bedroom. "I can't sleep without my wife."


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