Still fully clothed, my husband watched hungrily as I shakily unclasped my bra first, letting it hang loose on my chest.
“All the way off, Ellowyn.”
I took a deep, fortifying breath before letting it drop to the floor with a quiet thump. Alois’ eyes instantly found my bare breasts, full and awaiting his touch, my dusky pink nipples pointed from arousal.
“Your underwear. Now,” he commanded from between gritted teeth. I tried to catch his attention, to find comfort in ourconnected gaze, but his eyes were firmly trained on my body. A slight hollow feeling passed through me before I pushed it aside and focused on the erection in Alois’ pants. It was sizable, but did not appear to be unduly large.
Thank the gods for small mercies.
I found it easier to strip from my underwear, pulling the lace down to expose the small thatch of nearly white curls atop my mound before toeing off my shoes. I stood before my husband, naked as the day I was born, awaiting his next command.
“Beautiful.” He whispered a reverent prayer, and I basked in his praise.
“On the bed,” he said curtly, one hand rubbing his mouth. “On your back, knees up and legs open.”
I frowned slightly and hesitated for a moment before moving to comply with his orders.
Why is he still dressed?
Presumably, my husband had sexual kinks, but he discussed none of these with me. I didn’t mind taking orders from him, but I found it slightly demoralizing.
This is not how sex should be—I don’t feel loved or even respected.I fought rising tears as I padded quickly to the bed, my arousal drying from the chill of the air and my self-disgust.
By any means necessary.
His bedroom was just as plain and militaristic as the sitting room—a four-poster dark wood bed frame dominated the space, the mattress high and sheets white. The pop of color was jarring, especially considering his love of black garments. A fire crackled low in the hearth, chasing some of the cold from the air, while a door to the right stood slightly ajar, hinting at the opulent bathroom within. The curtains were drawn over expansive windows, our only light from the fire.
It was intimate, even cozy, in a lair-like way.
“Why are you not on the bed?” Alois’ cool voice said from directly behind me and I jumped a bit with a squeak before scurrying to the bed and climbing atop, uncaring of my naked ass in the air.
I assumed the required position and stared at the ceiling while I waited for my husband. I heard the rustle of his approach and turned my head to look at him.
“I did not say you could look, wife,” he barked, and I snapped my head back to the ceiling, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.
The bed dipped slightly as Alois’ petrichor scent enveloped me once more. His hand reached out to stroke my hair and face, his ministrations slowly relaxing me again.
“I do not say these things to be rude or mean,” he admitted lowly, some of the earlier warmth back in his voice. “Due to some past . . . experiences, I need full control in bed. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Do you still wish to continue?”
I didn’t.
I nodded my head and heard a breath release in a gust. “I will never do anything that makes you uncomfortable unless you ask me to. This is as far as my orders will go. Though I will ask you not to touch me. Is that okay?”
I nodded again.
“Will you tell me about it later?” I asked and felt him tense.
“Some things are better left untold, better left buried,” he said tersely before removing himself from the bed.
I guess there’s my answer.
I heard the rustle of clothes and thethunkof boots as I imagined him stripping down.
The bed dipped again, this time near my feet. I chanced a glance down along the naked planes of my torso to see a nakedAlois sitting at my feet, his gaze trained on my exposed pussy. In the low firelight, I could barely see the white lines of small scars. His body wascoveredwith them. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to their placement, no pattern, and I felt a twinge of sympathy despite the situation.
