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Begrudgingly and nervously, she ambled towards the dresser to take off her jewelry. Her anxiety was palpable; I could almost taste it. It only increased the simmering tension radiating between us in the room.
I resisted the urge to smirk. My anticipation for the night was high. She was going to be mine again, and it didn’t matter how hard she tried to fight it or conquer moral boundaries; her body desired mine. I’d sensed it from the first time I kissed her and even back at the church when her body caved into my touch.
Her earrings went first, and then her necklace. She quietly stared at the diamond ring on her finger for some time and opted instead to take out the pins on her hair. Her silence was all I needed to know; she hadn’t stopped hoping for a way out of this marriage with me.
When it was time to tug down the zip on the white dress, she wrestled by all means—stretched and huffed—and unzipped it herself. Apparently, any means of self-inflicted harm was a thousand times better than asking for my help.
With a glare, she turned away from me, still clutching the dress to her body, before she disappeared behind the bathroom door.
****
Thirty minutes later, and Freya hadn’t come out yet.
I’d heard the faint sound of a rushing faucet, and…that was it. After her shower, there was dead silence afterward. Maybe she had seen Anna’s gift and was embarrassed?
It was tradition for newlywedded women to wear red lingerie for their husbands on their wedding night, and knowingFreya, she’d probably consider other possible options that would help her escape the torture.
I couldn’t contain myself anymore; the impatience to see her was almost maddening.
I walked to the door and swung it open.
At the sight of her, the boiling blood in my body traveled south, and my cock grew hard between my legs. She was standing in front of the mirror, assessing the red lingerie through her reflection in the mirror with creased brows.
She looked like she preferred the ground to open up and swallow her, while I thought it suited her perfectly. Her body was like a fine piece of art, molded by the best craftsman, shaped by the most meticulous artisan, evoking the deepest and most dangerous emotions from the recesses of my soul. Every detail was right—just perfect—from the crown of her head to the shiny, nude-polished toes of her feet.
I wanted her.
And I wanted herso badit set up a blazing torch somewhere in my chest and below the belt.
I stood there, gawking hungrily, and when she didn’t say anything, I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. The loud bang made her shoulders tremble, and she moved her arms to shield her bosom.
“Don’t.”
It was a rough growl at the back of my throat, one that made her quickly comply. I covered the space between us and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her back flush against my chest. She tried to recoil, but I kept her grounded, caging her between the marble counter and me.
“Don’t you ever try to hide yourself from me, understand?”
A strangled sound left her lips, and she shut her eyes with a sigh. “This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve had to endure.”
“Not to me, wife.” I shifted her hair to the side and pressed a kiss on the back of her neck. And another kiss at the spot behind her earlobe.
“Wife?” She shuddered and released a small chuckle. “NotdetectiveorFreyaanymore? Hope you don’t expect me to call you something cheesy or endearing likemy love.”
I got lost in the softness of her skin and the small tremors her body made, positively reacting to my touch. Even her scent was intoxicating.
“Oh, I have many, many expectations.” I sniffed her neck. “But having you call me that is not one of them.”
I bit her chin and lightly grazed her skin. “Because it would never be honest.”
Her breath fell short. “Yeah….”
I cupped the soft curve of her ass and pressed my erection against her.
“And I can’t have you calling me that when you hate me so much. We don’t want to live a false life now, or do we?”
I dragged my mouth from her chin and tasted her earlobe. She gripped the counter and inclined even deeper into me, sashaying her hips to create friction.
“There is no we,husband. This…marriage is a sham.”
