Page 21 of Love on the Run

He swings back around. “Unlike you I won’t remove our son completely away from your life. Every time you ‘comply’ as you put it, you get to see him. If you don’t you won’t.”

He waves his hand in front of me and walks me back to my suite.

He presses a long finger into a scanner and the door clicks open.

I don’t bother saying goodnight or thank you for a lovely evening because what the fuck?

Stepping just inside the room’s gekan, I slip off my shoes. Looking up from the little bench, I see he’s paused at the entrance looking down at his phone.

He looks up, his hard gaze giving way to something more— so much more. Something heated, dark, very dangerous.

“Ito Sensai texted saying you’re in your fertile window.”

My mouth forms into a shocked, ‘O’. I have no words.

“Would you like to see Asa tomorrow?”

TWELVE

Flower ~ Choosey Lover

“Wouldyou like to see Asa tomorrow?”His question rings in my ears as I freshen up in the ensuite bathroom. Of course, I would like to see my son, whom I haven’t seen in two weeks. My excitement of finally smelling his sweet baby smell that’s fast fading as he grows more and more every day, almost bows me over. The only thing competing with it is the pure unadulterated lust and rage I see in Akchiro’s eyes.

I close my eyes at the way his eyes flared when I whispered, “Yes.”

I cringe thinking of how my pussy got wet just from the way he bit his lip stepping to me. I was trying to be brave holding my ground, not moving when he came closer still. All my courage fled when I felt his big, hard dick pressing against my tummy, taking a step back.

He caught me, dragging me close. Dipping his head until his breath brushed my throat. “You know I’m going to have to punish you, don’t you?”

Swallowing hard, I could only nod. “I need to freshen up.”

He nodded stepping back, letting me pass.

I knowhe’s wondering what’s taking me so long. Oh nothing, just me having a massive, fucking breakdown. I press my fingers to my eyes trying to stop the tears. Trying to get myself to calm down. A few slip through before I can calm myself enough, my mind tripping to the past no matter how much I try to stay focused on the here and now. Who we are now…

Thinking backto our first time, how scared I was to tell him I was a virgin. Afterwards, I felt silly because he was so good about it—so good to me. He was so sexy and gentle. He loved he was my first. Treated me like I was treasured from the moment he finally pushed inside me and everyday afterward. He cherished me until the day I left him. When he found me in New York, he cherished me more. Showing me, he was worthy of the gift I gave him. Showering me with adoration —forgiveness.

The factthat I’ve been with him hundreds of times should make this night as easy as writing my name, but I’ve only been with this person, this version of him—his dragons, less than a handful of times. This mean, ruthless, merciless villain has only taken me a few times. This is the side he hides. The side he never wants to show me. He thought he’d scare me away. He thought when he took me that night after he saw me hugging Marchellis, the reason I left was because of how forceful he made love to me. The fact is, I loved it. It was him finally breaking out of that cold, implacable suit of armor he always wore. Takeda’s train their sons to be like samurai, master warriors in all things. I would never ask him to change what he is just share his true self with me.

Even after we got back together and reconciled; after we found out we were pregnant with Asa, he’s never allowed himself to be like that with me again. I knew it was in him the whole time. Had anticipated him eventually showing his true self. The part of him he reserves for business, and retribution. He never did.

I think that’s why I always felt like he was holding back. Like our marriage wasn’t complete because he never revealed this part of his nature to me. I don’t know if it was out of preservation of our marriage, thinking he’d scare me away. I think that part of him is so sacred, or maybe he feels like I didn’t deserve to know. Like I haven’t proven myself enough to see the real him —that he couldn’t trust me with who he really is. Was I not his safe space like he was for me? Did he think I’d judge him for who he really is? Not love him the same way he loved me through my frailty, through my faults. It matters little now, because from the look in eyes, he’s shedding all pretense of goodness and love. I must remind myself there was no love in his eyes.

“No matter what he does or how he makes you feel it’s not love,” I whisper, looking in the mirror. I see I’ve smashed mascara around my eyes, so I get some makeup remover pads wiping the smudges away; realizing how hypocritical I’m being knowing I’ve tucked my secret safely in the rim of the toilet paper roll.

Splashing more water on my face, inhaling, exhaling gathering the strength I need to get through this moment — a moment that should be so natural with me allowing my husband to touch me as no other man has ever touched me. But I know better. I know that he is not going to be touching me out of love, but pure raw lust and rage.

I realize in that moment, I crave it. I crave his punishment. I crave his cruel touch. I want him to use me, to fuck away all the pain. To make me senseless with a desire and passion. I needhim to shatter every doubt; to take away my will and make me his. I think I need him to make me his in a way he never has before.

Maybe this is what’s been missing for him too. Maybe this is why he can say so clearly, I am no longer his weakness because I’m not. I’m not giving him what the sadist in him needs. Subjugation. He needs to dominate. Yeah, he’s been holding back, and, on the inside, he’s been suffering. So, in that respect I have not been his safe space. I have been not the one he can come to, the one he can be his true self with.

I wish we could’ve had this conversation over the last few years. I wish I had been braver— had more courage to press him when I sensed he needed more. I wish this hadn’t been on the back of a young woman suffering. He got something out of tormenting her, even if he won't acknowledge it. I’d rather it be me, not some innocent. Because deep down, I knew what I was getting, the moment I got in that limousine. I knew what he was when I met him. I craved what he really was—his darkness. Then when I fled, he thought I didn’t want that part of him.

This is a terrible place to show him, the worst place to show him. Our marriage is in shambles. We don’t even like each other right now. I’m pretty sure he even hates me. I’ll be the first to say I don’t know what in the hell I’m doing. I don’t even know if I want to try. I brush away the tears pressing a cool cloth to my face, so I won’t look so distraught. I won’t fool him. He’ll know the instant he sees me. The room was dark when I left so hopefully, he’s kept it dark. Knowing him he wants to see my entire debasement.

I inhale deeply, “You can do this.” Turning, I move to the door, inhaling and exhaling again. Opening it to see his naked form standing just outside the entrance.

A heavy handgrips me as soon as I emerge, slamming me against the wall beside the bathroom door.

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