My Wife, My Rules – 10. chapter

Tess nervously tugged the torn blouse tighter against her body as if the cloth could still hide anything at all. Silence wrapped around her like a cold veil and she hid inside it. Aiden helplessly let his shoulders fall. His gaze slid over her, then he looked away at once, shaking his head in disbelief, as though he could not process the absurdity of the moment.

“At most, I am willing to turn my back,” he said at last, yielding yet stubborn all the same. “But I absolutely will not leave you alone in here.” His voice drifted like smoke, soft yet marked by an insistent trace of firmness.

He caught her fleeting smile of gratitude, fragile as morning mist, and shook his head again, this time even more.

“I am not even allowed to look at my own wife,” he muttered, bitter rather than angry. He turned toward the room. The wooden bench against the wall suddenly seemed like salvation, a simple place to lay down both body and thought. He moved it opposite the bath and sat on it facing the wall, his back to temptation.

“You may,” he said without turning.

After a brief pause he added, “I will not turn unless you allow me to.”

He heard the rustle of fabric at once. From the sound of it falling to the floor, he knew the skirt had dropped. Nothing else followed. After a moment came the sound of water once, then again, and the soft splash as she stepped in.

He held his breath. She was there. Naked. Less than a yard behind him, immersed in steam and water. His senses sharpened, blood rushing into his loins so fast it stole his breath. He listened to the splashing water, hardening, forcing himself to breathe as calmly as he could.

You have to stay. Sit. Wait. Do nothing.

If he seized his wife and took what was his by right, she would never willingly curl into him again. He would be her enemy forever and their marriage would be a torment she did not want to be in. But if he waited, if he let her calm down and taught her not to fear him, when she herself decided when to give herself to him, then for the rest of his life he would be able to take her whenever and however he wished. He knew it. He had told himself so ever since he realized Tess would be his wife. Now, with temptation this close, he simply had to repeat it again and again. He could not go to her. He had to sit and listen to what was happening behind his back. Had he truly willingly prepared this hell for himself? He spread his legs to ease his hard dick and tried to calm himself with an exhale.

“You are not saying anything,” Tess said from behind the unseen veil of steam.

Because all the blood has left my brain and settled in my groin, he thought bitterly. Instead, he said calmly, “What would you have me say?”

“For instance, why you married me.”

“We both know I was not the one who decided that.”

“We both know it was,” she countered. Gently, but firmly.

He smiled. There was no denying it. They had tried to maneuver him into it, but he had understood in time and wanted it. He had wanted Tess.

“You have everything I ever wished for in a woman,” he said at last. “And that you are beautiful and drive me mad with desire is more than I ever dared to hope for.”

Silence followed. After a while, when she spoke again, her voice was less uncertain.

“You said you would beat your wife.”

“I never said it that way,” he answered sharply, though he kept his tone measured so as not to frighten her.

“But you have not laid a hand on me in any way.”

He thought about it. He searched for the words slowly.

“I like things rough. I usually stir passion and trust in women. With you, there is neither. You fear me. I don’t deny I inspire respect, but you fear me all the time. Only sometimes, when I try to calm you, does it fade for a moment.”

“It surprises me how well you manage that with me,” Tess admitted quietly, honestly.

He smiled, pleased and grateful.

“That makes me glad,” he said. “I don’t want you to fear me. There is no reason. Ever since I first saw you, I felt an overwhelming need to protect you. To keep you content, happy, and safe. Even from me.”

The last words were almost a whisper. He did not know whether she heard them, but he needed to speak them into the air thick with steam, into the tension between them.

“I will wait until you want me of your own will.”

He had not realized the recent sound of water had been Tess climbing out of the bath, and it caught him slightly off guard when she suddenly stood before him, wrapped in a damp sheet that clung to her skin. The fabric was semi-transparent, revealing more than it hid. His already hard dick took another rush of blood, and Aiden tried and failed to master it with a deep exhale.

“Why do you present it as a given that it will happen?” she asked seriously. “You never consider whether I will want it at all. Only when.”

He smiled with easy confidence, and Tess reluctantly admitted she liked it.

“My dear,” he began, his voice taking on a warm, brazen note. “I got you from the battlements to the courtyard, I brought you before the altar, and I will bring you to my bed as well. Trust me.”

He winked.

She studied him, clearly thinking, then looked away. Sudden shyness.

Aiden laughed, not mockingly but with open warmth.

“What is it?” she asked suspiciously.

“I know what crossed your mind.”

“What?” she asked, already frowning slightly.

“To drop that towel.”

She froze, like a girl caught with her hand in the sugar bowl.

“And will I do it?” she whispered.

“No,” he said with calm certainty and rose to his feet. She stepped back. Gently. Instinctively. Yet she did not leave.

He took one step toward her. Then another.

“And what would be the point?” he asked softly. “Did you wish to see whether I would lose control and pounce on you? Or keep it? Or lose it and you would enjoy it?”

He stood very close now. His breath mingled with hers. She felt the heat of his body and the faint scent of smoke and leather.

“It does not matter,” he whispered. “You will not do it. It is not in your nature.”

He bent toward her slowly, though even so he expected her to flee. She did not move away. She stayed.

“I will not rape you, kitty,” he whispered, aroused, brushing his lips against hers. “Not today. I want you to open the gates of your body to me of your own will the first time.” He took her lips between his and gently licked them. “After that, they will remain open to me forever.” He slid his tongue between Tess’s teeth and she answered him for a brief moment.

“And I will become the master of your body.”

Another soft, wet kiss drew a faint sigh from Tess. He knew these kisses tormented him more than eased him, yet it pleased him that she cooperated. For the first time. She even allowed the light touch of his palm upon her breasts. He did not want to push her all the way to refusal, and so he pulled back reluctantly. He smiled in reassurance and stroked her cheek. His touch was a promise. Not today. But soon.