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“How dare you? You have no right to be angry,” I say and my voice is quivering. “You stole me.”
“I didn’t steal you,” he says heatedly. “I repossessed you. Do you understand me?” He walks over to me, cornering me and I don’t even know if he’s truly a man. Like this he’s more like machine. “I retrieved you. I saved you. And I don’t give a fuck about how many men came before me but I will re-claim you.”
Seven
Husband
She shivers and there’s a tint on her cheekbones but her eyes are hesitant and she’s looking at me like I’m a loose cannon right now. Letting out a snarl, I give her some space and walk out into the hallway to grab a shower.
Daphne stays behind, gathering her thoughts probably but then I hear her coming after me.
“Husband,” she calls and the word is starting to get on my nerves. In the beginning I drew some satisfaction from hearing it on her lips but all I want to hear right now is my real name. The one that she’s going to have to remember if she ever wants to be let out.
“Wait...Husband!”
She catches up with me in the staircase, her face feverish and she seems nervous as I meander up the steps. She takes a deep breath and she’s looking at me under her lashes, as if subconsciously trying to make herself seem more innocent
“What about tonight?” she asks, sounding very keen on getting a satisfying answer. “It’s still on, right?”
I shake my head and her distress erupts into the air. “I think not.”
I’m being an asshole and I know it but I’m pissed after the answers I pulled out of her. How often have other men satisfied her, how many times has she moaned for them and offered herself up like that’s all she’s good for?
And hell, I wish that she had lied. I wish that she had lied and told me that she hadn’t slept with anyone. That she’s repulsed by anyone who’s not me.
Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. She doesn’t even remember me. And it stings, punctures right where the heart is.
“W...why?” she stutters, “you said you would.”
“I take it back,” I reply callously and her little body sways. Right now, not even her presence or appearance can soothe me. The way she talked back to me, the way she let me know that she indeed had been fucked before and probably enjoyed it has infuriated me. She’s sufficiently close for me to be able to scent her but not even that is enough now and what I really want to do is grab her and aggressively thrust into her, no sweet words, no caressing just pure ferocity.
“But I gave you what you wanted.”
“You did not give me what I wanted.” Not what I really wanted anyway.
Her face distorts into a pleading grimace. “You can’t go back on your word.”
“Try me...” I growl but to my surprise, she grabs me by my arm and yanks me back and there’s hardly any strength in her but that’s not what makes me stop. It’s her touch. Her hand on my arm and she doesn’t let go. And I don’t want her to let go.
It’s the touch. It’s the touch that calms me down.
“We’re going to do this,” she says, nervously licking her lips and she’s completely unaware of what she’s doing to me. “We’re going to go into town o...okay?”
“Don’t know,” I rasp, taking a step closer to her until she has to crank her neck. “Is it okay?”
I want her to keep touching me, don’t want us to break eye contact, don’t want us to break this sudden connection that’s blazing between us. She has no idea how perfect she is. How centered she makes me feel. I was nothing but scattered pieces before I retrieved her. And now that she’s with me everything is slowly falling into place again.
She nods her head and as if knowing what I want, she slides her hands over my shoulders and her eyes shudder involuntarily. Her voice is hoarse when she whispers, “I think it is.”
Her palms continue to keep moving over my skin, almost curiously and it makes me think of how she looked in her little nightie.
Like confectionary, all sweet, sugary and syrupy, just for me. I want to smother her. Take her in my arms then hold her until she can’t breathe, give her a taste of her own medicine because that’s what she does to me. Can’t breathe when she’s around, can’t think and fuck...me kidnapping her is the epitome of that.
“Please,” she adds softly, “you will take me into town won’t you?”
If I take her into town she will try and escape. And as much as I want to pretend that I don’t see it, her face is an open book. Her blue eyes tell me all about her plans, how she’s going to try to distract me then run away. However I also know that her efforts will fail.
Her palms stop tracing me and she bashfully looks up at me, biting her lip and I stroke a hair strand behind her ear. The caress makes her shiver and I don’t know if it’s because she’s sensitive around her ears or wary of my touch. I choose to go with the former.
