“Me what?” I ask. “Say it.” I begin to undress, slipping out of my coat jacket and hanging it over a chair.
“You say you’re not repulsed by me, but you have no interest in consummating our marriage? That makes no logical sense to me.”
I like that she’s ruled by logic, and I’ll keep that in mind. At the same time, it’s my duty to train her to obey me, so she’ll only get the bare minimum.
“You’re wrong in assuming I don’t want to consummate our marriage. I do. Very much so.” I unbutton my trousers and push them down my legs. “And that should be obvious to you.”
Her eyes travel to the large erection tented in my boxers and real fear crosses her face. She swallows hard.
“But not tonight?” she whispers.
I shake my head.
“Not tonight.”
She breathes a sigh of relief and seems almost relaxed in her cuffs. I don’t understand this woman but will. I pull off my t-shirt and climb into bed with her. Shyly, she looks me over, lingering on the ink that paints my neck, arms, and back.
“Someday, will you tell me what those mean?” she asks, so innocently, she doesn’t sound like the woman of just a few minutes ago.
“Maybe someday,” I tell her. “Now no more talking. Sleep.”
I wish our wedding night could’ve ended differently than this, but I’m no romantic. The only reason I do is because I’d have liked to fuck her well and good before we went to sleep, to calm the blood pounding in my veins. To remind her that she belongs to me.
I roll over with my back to her. I like the warm feel of her skin against mine. I can almost hear her thinking, as she lies there in the dark and I wonder what she turns over in her mind.
Still, sleep comes swiftly in the end.
When I wake the next morning, she’s already stirring beside me, her arms still in cuffs, staring up at the ceiling. I wonder if she’s slept at all.
“Dobroye utro,” I say. Good morning.
She purses her lips and give me a sidelong glance but doesn’t respond.
Casually, I reach over to one of her bare breasts and take her nipple between my fingers. She tenses when I squeeze and narrows her eyes. I’m not trying to arouse her. I’m reminding her of what happens when she doesn’t behave.
“The proper way to respond to your husband is to say good morning, or dobroye utro,” I tell her. I hold onto the tender bud. “Go on, now.”
“Good morning,” she says through gritted teeth, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Looks like fine weather we’re having, doesn’t it?”
I look out the window for the first time. It’s dark and rainy, and thunder booms in the air.
I shrug. “It’s lovely. Are you hungry?” I ask. Her eyes flit to where I still have hold of her nipple.
“Starving. Are you going to let me go or not?”
“Are you going to watch your mouth or not?”
She sighs, briefly closes her eyes, then nods. “Yes.”
I release her nipple and watch as it turns a pretty shade of deep pink. With the very tip of my finger, I circle the outer edge and push myself up on my elbow.
“Your breasts are gorgeous,” I tell her huskily. “I’d like to taste them for breakfast.”
“Charming,” she says, which earns her another punishing tweak. Gasping, she tenses. I release her nipple and bend my mouth to her other breast, lazily drawing my tongue along the pretty pink peak. Holding her gaze with mine, I draw her nipple into my mouth and suck hard.
Her back arches but her hands stay in place, still cuffed to the headboard. The way her eyes flutter shut I can tell she likes my ministrations. Gently, I knead one nipple while I lap and suckle the other, until a little moan of pleasure escapes her pretty lips. I release her nipple and drop a kiss to the damp, hardened skin, before I draw my mouth lower and kiss the fullest part of her bare breast.
“Fucking beautiful,” I tell her, planting kisses all along her chest. Cuffed, she can’t stop me, but I have a feeling that it’s only an excuse for her to enjoy this, because she gently parts her knees without prompting and whimpers when I stop.
Pushing myself up to her neck, I kiss her there, inhaling her sweet scent, faintly honeyed and floral.
Christ, she’s got me so damn aroused. As pakhan, I have women whenever I want them and readily, but they’ve been willing. Eager, even. This one is not only more beautiful than the slender women I’ve taken, with her full curves and valleys I could sink into with pleasure. She poses a challenge to me. Maybe it’s because she’s hard to get. Maybe it’s because she’s a fucking goddess. Maybe it’s because she’s my wife and deep within I know I own every inch of her.