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He kisses my forehead tenderly, pulling me to his chest.
“I can feel your heart pumping.” He pecks a shadow of a kiss on my lips. A pause follows while we lose ourselves in each other.
“This is my oath to you. I would die first before I let anything happen to you. I would kill before I allow anyone to make you feel uncomfortable.”
The shocking part is, he is being literal; I now know what he is capable of. I should have a problem with it, but strangely, I don’t. We’re married, exchanged vows, and signed a certificate that bonds us for life. More or less willing, that’s inconsequential. I could not imagine someone else as my husband either. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself to accept who he truly is. The beat of my heart calms, and he’s there, stroking my cheek, saying in a low voice, “Don’t hide from me. Don’t ignore me. I can take everything but not that... Please, be patient with me. I know I’m a lot.”
He presses kisses on my temple. My cheeks. My lips. When he’s like this, sweet and vulnerable, I have no chance of escaping this intricate web of raw need and pure lust.
“To answer your question from that night about whose love I wanted... Both my parents. I didn’t expect you to go in for the kill, but you did. Ever since I saw you the first time, you’ve been a surprise. Unexpected, but the best part of my day.”
“Your world, Cameron, is—”
“You don’t fit in my world. Yet, let me open the world for you and lay it at your feet.”
“What if I want to fit into your world?”
“And what would you demand in exchange for that?”
Even now, he can’t consider I’d want to give him something without getting something in return. Hurt snakes around my chest, squeezing it in a fist. I push him off me.
Frustration oozes from him. “What happened?”
“You . . . you . . . You’re such a . . .”
“A what? Use your words.”
Ugh! I walk away, taking the stairs two at a time.
I try to relax by taking a bath, but I don’t know what to do with myself. With every aching beat of my heart, wanting more of him saddens me, leaving me desolate.
In the end, he wouldn’t care. I’d end up being just another woman to satisfy his dick. And I can’t be that for him. Not when I crave something else.
It’s been three days. I went into full gaming mode, focusing on honing my craft. It’s safe, secure, and attainable. Still, it’s taken everything in me to concentrate.
Cameron hasn’t demanded anything more of me; he hasn’t even been home. He’s quite proficient at taking but not giving. Last night, after I ate alone for the third time, my anger shifted to dejection.
I take another glance at my phone beside my desktop. A message would have sufficed, but if he thinks I’m going to make the first move, he’s wrong.
I leave my room, knowing this time I won’t be able to suppress my curiosity any longer. I find Marie in the kitchen, worry etched in her eyes.
“Where is Cameron?”
She startles and places her hand on her chest. “Sorry, my dear. Was deep in thought.” That’s nothing new. She’s been like this since I came back from Chiara’s house.
“He’s busy.”
He was busy before, but he still found time to torment me. I turn around and she says, “Cameron doesn’t know what to do with feelings.”
I halt on the spot, so many replies at the tip of my tongue.
“He’s better when you’re around.”
“Then he should be home more often.” Hurt laces my words. I can’t hide it. So, I step outside and call my mother as I take the path toward the bench next to the forest.
“Honey, how are you?”
“I miss home.”
