AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then as if unable to help himself, he slides his fingers over the side of my neck and it feels so good that even in a situation like this one, it makes me drowsy. His skin is warm and if things had been different I would have closed my eyes in longing.
“I have clothed you, combed your hair and now I want you to smile,” he says in a voice that doesn’t sound like his own and my eyes widen in surprise. It doesn’t sound like his own words either...almost like he’s mimicking someone.
His gaze firmly goes to mine and it’s dark and enigmatic. He waits for my reaction but I don’t know what to do. I try a smile, thinking that’s what he wanted but it doesn’t seem like that was what he was after. He’s disappointed again but then he shrugs and takes a step back.
Shivering I stare at his hand when he holds it out for me, but I lend him mine and he helps me up. I’m so rash for ever thinking I could escape him. How in the world does a girl like me escape a man like him?
I’m practically half his size and the way he moves is so precise, controlled and agile that it sometimes feels like he has eyes in the back of his head. And his hand is so warm, so permissive somehow. Kind.
I jerk myself because he is not kind but I let him lead me out of the bathroom and we step into his bedroom, walking over to his bed. He lets go of my hand and I automatically glance at the door before he demands my attention again.
“I chose some of these for you,” he says, gesturing toward the bed where several dresses are laid out. I don’t even wear dresses. I wear pants, or skirts or blouses. “Will you put them on for me? I’d like to see you in them.”
I nod because what else am I going to say? No?
The ghost of a smile lingers around his mouth and his shoulders straighten and he gives me a look full of triumph and possession before walking out and closing the door.
****
Husband
Doesn’t she ever give up? I can hear her how she’s trying to open the windows and she’s cursing to herself. I can only imagine that her face is flushed, her eyes furious and I lean my forehead against the wall. She needs to give up and give in. It will be easier that way.
If only she lets me, I will show her how good I can be to her.
Letting out a short scream, she stomps her foot and in a way her anger is good. It means she’s not afraid of me. If she was, she would go to great lengths to keep quiet, trying to do everything to avoid me harming her.
She stops moving around in the room, then calls, “Come in.”
Opening the door, I step inside and she turns away from the mirror. Her hair is mussed, her eyes not much different but she’s not trying to fight me. Instead she even twirls around, asking with a tinge of acid in her voice,
“So what do you think?”
Exquisite. Those colorful fabrics suit her more than the clothes she came in. These ones disguise the darkness that she carries within. I should know because I have it too.
“Not bad,” I say, “turn around for me.”
Her eyes flicker in hesitation but then she turns around and the dress is clinging to her hips and ass like a jealous lover. My fists clench because if she looks like this with clothes on then how the fuck does she look like without them?
Turning her head to the side, she raises a brow, murmuring, “And?”
“Not bad,” I say again but my voice is raspy and I’m unable to hide my emotions. Unable to hide how I feel about her and she shivers, her frail shoulders shuddering with the movement and it’s not until now that I realize just how powerless she is compared to me.
How weak. Like a little baby bird kicked out of the nest too soon before she even knows how to fly.
And I hate myself for ever allowing her to slip through my fingers. I should have grabbed her then and there and held on, not caring if she screamed that she wanted me to let her go. I graze my lip with my teeth, walking over to her and something inside of me takes over, something that’s desperate to get closer, something immoral, the thing that most people call obsession but that I call addiction.
She’s my addiction, she’s got all my attention, all my devotion.
But right now she might not know how to handle it and I realize that she’s backing away from me, stumbling into the wall. Her nails dig into the wallpaper and her whites are showing like she suddenly remembered who she’s alone with.
“H...Husband?” she stutters with wide eyes, “Why are you coming at me?”
Halting, I sharply turn around so that she won’t be able to read my eyes and I clench my fists.
“Dinner,” I say between my teeth. “We should go down for dinner.”
She slept in until past noon and Luigi’s makeover took several hours and it’s already dark outside. She must be hungry and a smile lingers behind my mouth at the thought of her sitting at my dinner table with the candles lit while sharing a meal with me.
