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As I soap my body, I still feel the burn. He wasn’t gentle, quite rough really, so why did it excite me? He told me not to cum, he could try I suppose and as I stroke my own body, it’s his angry eyes that stare back at me in my mind.
I disobey him.
I obey me and as my body responds to the image in my mind; it awakens a sense of power that is new to me. I will not be owned. I ran away from that, and I will again if I must. My own power turns me on almost as much as his and as I cause my own release, it’s with a sense of victory against him.
I dress in the same jumpsuit I came here in and brush my hair and clean my teeth. I feel good because I am in control of myself, not him, and it’s important we discuss the rules again. Just as soon as we can.
As I make my way to my seat, I see him in the distance, his head bent over his phone, a glass of something in his hand. He doesn’t even look up as I take the seat beside him and as I strap myself in, I lean back with a small smile gracing my lips. I am a wife now and with that comes a sense of purpose I’ve been searching for my entire life and I’m a little shocked when I hear a rough, “Why are you so happy?”
I open my eyes and stare at my husband and smile. “Because I’m your wife.”
My response appears to shock him and then the darkness in his eyes lessens and he appears to relax a little.
His hand finds mine, and he twists our fingers together and whispers, “Yes. You are.”
Then he raises my fingers to his lips and his scowl deepens when he says roughly, “You smell of soap.”
“Do I?” I laugh softly and lean my head against his shoulder, whispering, “Then you will just have to mess me up again. Won’t you?”
He says nothing and we make the landing in silence. It’s not unpleasant, far from it in fact, if anything, it’s perfect. He’s perfect. My life is perfect, and I can’t wait to see what my new job involves now I am returning home as his wife.
* * *
We makeit back to the house and it’s different coming home. I suppose it’s because I think of it that way now I’m married.
I squeal when Killian sweeps me into his arms and carries me through the door again, kissing me deeply and whispering, “Welcome home, wife.”
I gaze at him with adoration because he makes me feel so good. Even when he trying to push me away, I only want him more. I recognize he is lost. I am too and if I can help him with that, it may even help me too.
James is standing by to welcome us home and I flash him a brilliant smile as Killian lowers me to my feet.
“Congratulations, Mr. Vieri. Mrs. Vieri.”
He nods with respect, but I register the amusement in his smile and Killian says abruptly. “Thank you, James. I trust everything is arranged.”
“As requested, sir.”
I’m a little confused, and Killian turns to me and says coolly, “You may want to freshen up. James has organized your new closet in the one next to mine. We share the same room now.”
He nods to Saint, who is standing nearby.
“We have work to do.”
Saint nods and as they head toward Killian’s den, I’m a little lost because he doesn’t even look back. I shake my head and say in a low voice to James, “He’s a strange one.”
James says nothing, but I can tell he agrees, and I say with a sigh, “Let’s go and discover what he’s talking about.”
James follows me upstairs and as we pass the pristine art on the walls and tread the luxurious carpet, I pinch myself that I’m here at all. This house is too large for just the two of us and I try to imagine it full of children playing and family life. It settles my heart knowing I have purpose, but there is something telling me I want more. I always did and yet I don’t know what ‘more’ is.
I turn to James. “Do you have a family, James?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Purity. You make me sound so old.”
He appears shocked at my request and shakes his head. “I’m afraid I can’t, ma’am. It would make me uncomfortable.
“Why?”
