Chapter 14 #2
Perhaps I should bring it up and get it over with. But wouldn’t that make things worse? All I wanted was for the tension to disappear.
No, it would be better to remain silent about the meeting. My goal was to protect her, to shield her from the chaos. Informing her about it would undermine everything I had planned.
Breaking the silence, I attempted to steer the conversation back to normal.
“So, what did you do today?” I inquired, taking a tentative step into dangerous waters.
Her response was curt. “I met with a contractor.”
Curious, I probed, “Why?”
“The basement is leaking,” she explained. “It needs to be fixed. I also thought we could use the opportunity to make a few changes.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Like what exactly?”
“It’s very dark, cramped, and musty down there. We could open it up, add some lighting, and make it more inviting.” She paused, then added, “And that large, unused space at the end of the hall? I believe it would be perfect for a gym.”
“A gym?” I echoed.
“For MMA,” she clarified, with a spark of excitement. “Cali and I need a dedicated space to train. We’ve had to work outside, and when it is cold, an indoor setup will be a lifesaver.”
“Oh, right,” I said, nodding, thinking for a moment, and then continued, “So, you’re indicating you want to spend more time in my dungeon, huh?”
I shot a wink to lighten the atmosphere at the otherwise serious dinner table, but I sensed nothing would ease the tension and invite a more relaxed mood.
“Don’t get so excited,” she smirked. “I’m not exactly into BDSM.”
Her statement felt like a challenge and my cock took notice, growing harder by the second.
“Why not? A little light spanking never hurt anyone, did it?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Does the idea of me submitting to you excite you?” she taunted, knowing I’d take it more like a challenge.
I moved closer, leaning in as I whispered, “Does the thought of me taking control excite you, Laya?”
My question hung in the charged air. I remembered those distinct moments when she melted into passion. The way she allowed herself to be pinned with her hands raised, the subtle parting of her thighs when I asked for more, the instant hardening of her nipples as I claimed her.
At this unremarkable dining table, even her faintest gasp revealed her true feelings. She tried to brush off my efforts, her objections veiled in subtle disdain.
“Of course not,” she said, avoiding a straightforward response as if it didn’t matter. “I’m not a woman who needs to be controlled, Niko.”
I couldn’t suppress the slight curve of my lips. Perhaps she only let her guard down when the doors were closed.
“Controlling someone and being in charge aren’t the same thing,” I countered, adding to the dark edge she skated on.
“Is that what you think?” she snapped.
“Yes,” I admitted, unable to hide my conviction. “I’m the one in charge here, dear wife. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Her anger boiled over. “I am in charge of myself, dear husband!” she exploded as she threw her napkin onto the table and stormed toward the door. “I won’t let anyone control me. Not you, not anyone.”
Before I could say anything else, she was gone.
I called out, “Laya!” but she had already melted away into the night.
Frustration gnawed at me.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, exasperated.
What roadblock had she turned into today?
I muttered to myself, “Fuck this,” and got up to pursue her.
I spotted her on the terrace outside our bedroom, a slender figure silhouetted against the night sky as she stared out at the lush gardens below.
“Laya!” I demanded, approaching her from behind.
She slowly turned, her gaze locking onto me with a fierce glare before she looked away dismissively.
“Leave me alone,” she ordered, unable to hide the hurt and upset.
A wave of disbelief washed over me, stirring an intense annoyance that was difficult to suppress. How could I possibly bring any sense of calm to this chaotic situation? She behaved like a spoiled child, and I was bewildered by her actions, left without understanding the underlying cause.
“I’m not going to leave you alone,” I declared, gripping her shoulders firmly and compelling her to face me. “Talk to me!”
“Why?” she retorted, her sarcasm on full display. “Because you’re in charge?”
Her mocking only added to my annoyance. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions. One moment, she’d expressed her love for me, and the next, I discovered her life might be in danger. Now, inexplicably, she couldn’t stand being near me.
“I am in charge here, Laya,” I stated, steady and firm, carrying a sense of determination. “I refuse to apologize for that. I am a man. This is my territory, my realm, my household. I will always take the lead.”
“And what does that make me?” she shot back bitterly. “Just decoration for your bed?”
Her accusation struck me like a physical punch to the gut. Had I truly diminished my admiration for her to something superficial?
“Is that really how you think I see you?” I demanded, anger growing inside me. “I have always tried to respect you, yet now you say I only see you as a pretty accessory.”
“Don’t you?” she countered, her eyes blazing with defiant fury.
“No!” I insisted, struggling to regain control of the conversation.
I stared at her, baffled by her blunt defiance.
“And why should I believe you?” she questioned, shaking with emotion.
I paused, my mind scrambling for the right thing to say.
“Why wouldn’t you believe me?” I asked, desperately hoping for some understanding.
“Trust is earned, Niko.” She spoke with heavy finality and wounded pride.
I gazed into her green eyes, almost desperately trying to decipher the unspoken questions swirling there.
What was she saying? She’d told me she trusted me. Was that a lie?
Did she think I would hurt her? I could never, not in a million lifetimes, betray her or even lay a finger on her. Wasn’t it obvious that every part of me existed solely to protect her from life’s hardships? And yet, here she was, challenging the fierce devotion that burned within me.
“I don’t know what you think,” she said, shaking her head and breaking the charged silence.
Then, she stepped aside and moved toward the bedroom. Somehow, the air felt colder.
I thought, “Fair enough,” as her graceful figure entered the room. I had always struggled to express my feelings. Words were tangled like threads in a dream, especially now, with each day since she arrived feeling like a jumble of overwhelming emotions.
I had hesitated to share the raw truth with her, not because of anything she had done, but due to the demons of my past.
How could she not know I cared for her? I showed her with my actions.
Dammit. Women were so complicated.
I let my eyes appreciate her form: the strength of her broad shoulders, the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, and the way her movements hinted at desire.
Every detail stirred something primal within me. Suddenly, a fierce, pulsing reminder of the storm of passion inside hit me, igniting my growing arousal.
Without hesitation, I stepped forward and blocked her way at the door.
“Get out of my way,” she said, her defiance palpable.
I shook my head and said, “We need to talk.”
“Niko, move now or I swear I will punch you.” Her demand was filled with anger and deep yearning, echoing the turmoil inside us both.
“Why are you so angry, Laya?” I inquired, trying to hide my irritation.
“Because you think you can control me!” she erupted, her fury unmistakable.
“Aren’t you overreacting just a bit?” I replied, reminding her, “You’re my wife. That means you belong to me, after all.”
A flush of outrage crept over her skin, a mix of challenge and desire as she spat, “How dare you say you own me!”
In an instant, her hand swung through the air. I reacted, grabbing her wrist before it could strike my cheek, holding it with both a sense of warning and passion. Her wrist trembled in my grip as I stared at her, a low growl escaping me.
“You’re not going to hit me, Laya,” I said.
She shook her head, silently daring me further.
“Did you want to make me this angry?” I snarled with promises of things to come and raw desire.
For a long moment, she offered no reply, merely meeting my gaze with smoldering eyes and a bitten lower lip that revealed her inner turmoil. That vulnerability, combined with her determined expression, sent jolts of desire through me.
My cock pulsed hot and hard, driving up my arousal. I envisioned an array of vivid images of experiencing the softness of her skin against my fingers as I traced the curve of her hips, her nipples tightening at my barest touch, and the enticing way her body opened in anticipation.
“Goddammit, woman,” I muttered, “you’re going to be the death of me!”
Without a second thought, I grasped a handful of her long, raven-black curls, pulling her face close with a mix of possessiveness and obsessive need. Our lips crashed together in a desperate, fierce kiss, as if our need and anger demanded it.
A whimper of surprise escaped her as I explored her mouth with my tongue. Our kiss was untamed and a fight for domination, erasing all hesitation.
My anger and annoyance at her doubts transformed into a wild need to fuck that overtook all other urges. Every part of me craved her as I resisted her objections.
Our tongues tangled in a heated contest of dominance and desire, and I let go of her hair to use both hands to cup her ass, lifting her like she was the very embodiment of passion.
I carried her to the bed with determined strength, lowering her in a manner that denied the natural bounce of her body as she landed.
Her wide emerald eyes swirled with a mix of emotions, mirroring the chaotic storm within me.
“Niko, what are you doing?”
“I’m reminding you of something very important, Laya,” I replied, unbuckling my belt with determined urgency.