Chapter 7
Kuroi
Well, that didn’t work. I had thought that I could be the perfect wife, the perfect Japanese woman. I thought I could be my sister. And all I keep doing is cleaning my husband’s blood off the floor.
Oh well. I guess some girls weren’t meant for married life. I guess that means I’ll die alone. Who would have seen that coming? I would imagine, everybody.I hate it when people are right about me!
So, what went wrong? So many things, but let’s start from the beginning. When he arrived home for the first time finding me here, he looked at me funny and I stabbed him. Reasonable.
Next, after slaving in front of the mirror preparing myself, I had dinner waiting for him when he got home, and he laughed at me. In that case, he was just asking to die, wasn’t he? If there is a moth and a flame, what can I do about it?
At the same time, I can’t help but think that I bare some responsible for what’s happened, somehow. That sounds preposterous considering the effort I’ve made. Truly, above and beyond. But still, everyone else I’ve felt something for has died. At some point a girl has to ask, ‘Is it me?’
As impossible as it seems, maybe it is. Certainly I’ve never done anything wrong. If anything extracurricular ever happened with a lover, it was a moth to a flame, just like Dante. Yet, I can’t help but think I might have played a role somehow.
No matter, what has passed has passed. Water under the bridge. All I need to worry about now is what I will make for my husband tonight. He never said what he thought about the casserole. Maybe it was too Midwest Americana for him. Dante was Italian. Perhaps I’ll prepare spaghetti tonight.
Rummaging through my trunk which remained where it was left in the living room, I found the perfect dress. Very 1950s, Italian countryside. It would require the perfect makeup to pull off. The eyebrows over the white face had to scream portabella.
After spending most of the day designing my outfit, I spent another hour soaking in the master bath’s hot tub. All of the day’s stress melted away. Refreshed, I moved to the makeup stand I had set up in the guest bath and got to work. When I was finished, I had to wonder where the day had gone. I barely had enough time to order the food before Dante would come home.
Yesterday he had kept me waiting all night. That might have helped to inspire my completely reasonable reaction. No text or call saying, ‘Honey, I’m going to be late’? How long had he expected me to stand there? I was wearing heels.
But, that was what wives did, didn’t they? Standing waiting dutifully for their husbands? I did my part. I expected him to do his.
Once the food was delivered, I found my husband’s spaghetti bowl and dished up. Setting the table, I waited for 6pm to hit, then put on my shoes. To match the countryside style, I chose flat sandals. They weren’t flattering for my somewhat masculine feet. But if he didn’t like it, he would have to look away.
Taking my position on the edge of the counter within the open floor plan, I would have a clear view of the elevator. When the elevator rang, I would pick up the bowl and the performance would begin.
To my surprise, I didn’t have to wait long. Within five minutes of standing there, I heard it. My hubby was home. Grabbing the bowl and presenting it in front of me, I smiled.
There was something different about Dante as he entered this time. His eyes were steel. They scanned the room for me. When I was found, he approached me like a stalking lion. I nearly creamed my panties.
Parked in front of me, he judged what he saw. My makeup was perfect. There wasn’t a thread out of place. There was nothing I had gotten wrong.
“No,” he proclaimed with authority.
“I’m sorry?” I asked confused by the word.
“I said no.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I wasn’t sure what was going on. Was he trying to tell me what to do?
“Go to the bathroom and wash your face,” he ordered.
What? Was he the crazy one? I had spent all day on my face. I was deciding what I would use to hurt him with when he repeated it.
“I said, go to the bathroom and wash your face,” this time saying it with an emphasis on every word.
“No,” I replied unsure what either of us would do next.
Dante tilted his head surprised. He was clearly a man who was used to getting what he wanted. But he was going to have learn that I wasn’t one of his yes men. More than that, he was ruining our moment.
Ignoring all of that, he slowly paced in front of me, his eyes never leaving me. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was deciding whether or not to eat me.
“I have let you get away with some crazy shit since you’ve been here…”
“You have let me…?”
“I am speaking!” he demanded.
I paused, having been spoken to like this before but in an entirely different context.When it was clear that I wouldn’t interrupt him again, he continued.
“I have let you get away with some crazy shit since you’ve been here, but no more. From now on, you will do what I tell you to do, and nothing more. Do you understand me?”
I was… confused. Listening to him speak, a wave of heat washed through me. It was a rush.
“And, if I don’t?” I challenged.
He stared at me unflinchingly.
“Then you will be punished.”
My breath hitched. My heart raced.
“I would like to see you try.”
Dante stepped back caging his rage. Fear and arousal battled within me. Stiffening his spine, he stepped inches in front of me and the spaghetti bowl. I could feel his heat. It was intoxicating.
“Kuroi,” he began in a low rumbling voice, “go to the bathroom and wash your face.”
I trembled barely able to contain myself. I had to open my mouth to breath. Gripping the bowl preparing to defend myself, I drew air into my lungs and whispered, “No.”
He didn’t respond but anger pulsed off of him. When he moved, I realized that I hadn’t prepared for his blow. Flinching for the impact, it never came. Instead, he headed to the kitchen turning his back on me.
Watching him, he retrieved a wooden spoon from the utensils draw and turned out the chair at the head of the dining room table. Sitting, he stared into my eyes.
“Come here.”
I opened my mouth to protest. He cut me off.
“Now!”
What could I do? I heard him. I was to come to him. So, placing the bowl on the counter, I went to him. Standing at his feet, I trembled like a schoolboy.
“Kneel. Across my knee.”
Oh my god. My heart thumped. My head spun. I fought to resist but couldn’t. Lowering to my knees, I bent over with my stomach on his legs.
When the first strike hit, my skin was electric. My body tingled. After the wave of shock had barreled through me, a sting spread across my ass that took my breath away.
The second was more intense. The third made me moan.
“Ahh,” I groaned knowing he hadn’t held back. His power had made me weak in the knees. So when he next told me to get up, I wasn’t sure I could.
Swallowing as the heat billowed around my neck, I flinched as the sting of his strikes spread. Fighting through it to my feet, all I could do was look down at him. His anger was gone, but it didn’t reflect in his face.
“Now, go to the bathroom and wash your face. When you’re done, we will sit and enjoy the meal you have prepared.”
Without a word, I did what he had commanded. I didn’t want to wash off the hours of work I had done, but I was compelled to do what he said. It was like I couldn’t stop myself. Or, maybe it was that I didn’t want to stop myself.
Staring into my makeup mirror, I took a breath and grabbed a towel. Stripping away the layers slowly, what was revealed underneath was burnt and ugly. I looked away. I had done what he had commanded. All that was left was to return to him.
Remembering the force in his voice, I took another breath and did what I was told. Exiting the bathroom, I entered the living room. Unable to look up, I approached the dining table finding him seated. Retrieving the spaghetti bowl, I placed it on the table and took a seat next to him.
Still unable to meet his eyes, I sat listening to him dish up. When he was done, I knew it was my turn but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t look up at him. I couldn’t get up. All I could do was sit there meekly. This wasn’t me. Yet, here I was.
“Kuroi,” Dante said drawing my attention.
I turned to him without meeting his gaze.
“Look at me,” he said softly. When I didn’t, he repeated it with authority. “Look at me!”
I did. His eyes were different. Softer, maybe. Perhaps kind.
“I don’t want you to think that I don’t like your makeup and dresses. Believe me, I do. You look beautiful.”
“I don’t,” I admitted no longer able to hold his gaze.
Leaning across the table he took my chin between his fingers. His touch sent shivers of pleasure through me. Lifting my chin, I settled in his eyes.
“I said, believe me. You do.”
“Then, why?”
Dante let go of my chin and this time was the one to look away. Scanning his plate, it was a moment before he returned to me vulnerably.
“Because we have been married for three days and I barely know what my husband looks like. I would like to meet him.”
“You will be disappointed,” I admitted.
“Let me be the judge. Will you do that?”
I didn’t respond. He took it as agreement.
“Good. And so you know, so far, I like what I see,” he said with a smile.
He smiled. My husband smiled at me. Why? What did it mean? All I knew was that I liked it. I shouldn’t have, considering he was clearly a bad judge of character. But he was… sweet.
“Now,” Dante said relaxing, “will you join me for this excellent meal you prepared.”
I was thinking about telling him that I had bought it, but why ruin the moment. Dishing a little of it onto my plate, I dug in realizing I hadn’t thought things all the way through. I hated spaghetti. Always had. So sitting there eating it, I considered if being forced to eat something I didn’t like was my fault too.
Our meal continued in silence and ended as quietly. Clearing the table like a domestic goddess, I returned to my seat knowing our first true conversation wasn’t done.
“Your stuff is still in the living room,” he eventually said staring at my trunks.
“I didn’t know where to put it,” I admitted feeling the pinch of shame.
“I see,” he replied thinking for a moment. “You can move yourself into the spare room. You can get comfortable and consider it yours.”
“No,” I said without a second of thought.
“No?”
“No,” I repeated as a matter of fact.
“Why not?”
“Because I am your husband. As your husband, I will share your bed.”
“No!” he replied sharply. It was harsh enough for me think it would lead to another fight. But instead, his eyes dipped. “Look, you have to understand that this is all new to me. I didn’t plan to be married to you.”
“You thought it would be Yuki,” I said stating the obvious.
His head bobbled without answering.
“It doesn’t matter what I thought. I just didn’t expect this. I’m not saying it isn’t good or that I won’t get used to it. I just need a moment.”
“I understand. You can have your moment.” I paused. “Moment over.”
Dante looked at me and laughed.
“You have your rules. I have mine. If I am going to be married, which like you, I had no choice in, I will share my husband’s bed.”
“You didn’t want to do this?” Dante said melting a little.
“Did I want to marry a complete stranger and bare his children?”
“There might be something Sato didn’t tell you about the birds and the bees,” he joked.
“The answer is no, I didn’t want this. I was tricked into it just like you.”
Dante looked at me with disappointment. It surprised me.
“So, what do we do about it?” he asked. I allowed the question to hang in the air.
“We compromise,” I suggested.
Dante looked at me intrigued.
“How’s that?”
“We do our duties to our family and our marriage,” I said with a hint of a smile.
“And where’s the compromise?” he asked amused.
“You don’t see it?” I joked.
Dante laughed. It was a good laugh. It filled me with warmth.
“I don’t.”
“Fine. The compromise is that, while you get used to this, I will only spend a few nights a week in your bed.”
“One night.”
“Seven,” I countered.
Dante laughed again.
“Three.”
“Four,” I compromised.
He stared at me with an impish smile. It felt good.
“Alright, four. But, my rule stands true. You must do what I tell you to do when I tell you.”
I was offended. “Or what?”
“Or, you will be punished again.”
His suggestion sent a rush through me that made me lightheaded.
“Are you threatening me with a good time?”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” I confirmed.
We both stared at each other. I was starting to see something emerge in him. It aroused me. Was he going to be punishing me on a regular basis?
“If you don’t follow my rules, I will punish you,” he confirmed suggestively.
“And what happens if I do follow your rules?”
“I’ll punish you more,” he replied with a devilish smile.
My cock became rock hard. With the lingering sting of his paddling fading, I wanted more. To my great surprise, I restrained myself. Who knew I was capable? But even I could see that we were in a delicate negotiation. And there was still one thing left to discuss.
“So, where should I put my things?”
Dante thought about that.
“And, if I said the spare room?”
“I would again say no,” I said with a smile.
“Alright. You can put it in my bedroom.”
“Our bedroom,” I corrected.
“We’ll see.”
“We’ll see. And did I tell you that our sleeping together starts tonight.”
I couldn’t tell if it was panic or pleasure that took over Dante.
“You’re just sayin’ the same bed, right? That’s all?” he confirmed.
“We’ll see,” I said with a smile.
“Kuroi!”
“Fine. I hope I don’t do anything that makes you punish me,” I teased.
“I’ve made a mistake, haven’t I?” he joked.
“Not from where I’m sitting,” I said truly seeing my husband for the first time.
He was not the man I thought he was. I was expecting a brute. It was what I expected from all men. He was different. I couldn’t put my finger on how, but he was.
“Why don’t you get ready for bed. I’ll be in there in a second,” I told him.
“Take your time. I need to take a shower.”
I nodded. “Let me know if you need any help in there,” I said with a smile.
He looked at me accusingly.
“Getting undressed,” I explained.
His suspicion deepened.
“Because of your stiches!”
“Right. My stitches,” he repeated doubtfully.
He wasn’t wrong.
Waiting a respectful amount of time, I eventually headed to his bedroom. Entering, I found the bathroom door open. Approaching and leaning on the door frame, I found him shirtless in a pair of sweat pants. Once I saw the bulge in them, it was all that I could look at. My pulse raced imagining his bulge pushing into me.
“You sleeping in that?” he asked snapping me back.
I looked down at my dress. A part of me felt foolish for wearing it. It was like I was walking around offstage with my costume on.
“No. Can you help me with the zipper?”
“Yeah,” he said approaching me slowly.
When I felt the heat from his shower envelop me, I breathed him in and turned my back to him. Waiting for his touch, when it came, it sent shivers through my body.
With the back of his fingers touching my neck as he gripped the top of my dress, he slowly unzipped me. When he was done, the back of his hand brushed my ass. Was it intentional?
Feeling heat in my cheeks, I turned around with barely any space between us. He didn’t budge. Neither did I. Lowering the sleeves over my shoulders, I let the dress drop.
Still inches from him, I looked up into his eyes and subtly showed him my neck. I wanted him to want it. He didn’t move. So, when I stepped out of my dress wearing only my lacy pink panties, he got a good look.
“Are you ready for bed?” I asked turning so he could see my round ass.
“You make me unsure of everything,” he replied.
“You don’t have to be unsure about me,” I told him before getting into bed and settling on a pillow looking up into his eyes.
Having finished my show, I watched him as he stepped out of the bathroom. He made no grand gesture. He didn’t have to. His increased bulge said it all and seeing it made me tingle.
Sitting on his side of the bed, he reached for the light and then got in. For a moment it was dark. I felt him next to me. Staring at the ceiling, I wondered what I should do next. I wanted to test him. I wanted to feel his bulging cock.
But, wasn’t this his test for me. He had asked that nothing happen between us. At least, not tonight. I could do that. I mean, I could kind of do that.
But everything in me screamed to roll over, slip his thick cock into my mouth, and push it down my throat.I wasn’t going to. Not tonight. It would kill me having him so close, but I would prove that he could trust me.
Obviously he could only trust me so far, because I couldn’t do nothing with him next to me. Smelling his slight musk over the sheets and pillow, I was as hard as I could be. I needed to at least touch him. So, making a show of it to let him know I was coming, I rolled onto my side, slipped my arm around him onto his chest, and spooned him.
My hard cock found his ass cheeks. It sat in the crevice perfectly. For tonight, it would have to be enough. Pressing my chest against his back, I rested my cheek on his shoulder. It felt so good that I rotated it. It was all I could do to keep myself from fully breaking his trust.
That didn’t last, but not because I gave up. After a few short minutes, Dante shook me off of him while trying to roll over. I moved away disappointed until he kept rolling making himself my big spoon.
His large hands spread across my chest. His hard bulge pressed against my ass. And his warm breath flowed across my neck relaxing me more than ever in my life.
Was this what feeling safe felt like? Thinking about it, I slowly fell asleep.