I swallowed at the implication. I still wasn’t used to this very sexually open side of Samuel. He had been so very restrained and distant up until our first time.
“Let’s grab dinner first. I don’t want you to starve.”
He took me into the dining room, then disappeared upstairs to change clothes. He returned in a very relaxed style for him. A white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a beige chino, no belt. He sank down across from me. We always sat at the very end of the table so we were close while being able to look at each other’s face. It allowed for actual dinner conversation without having to scream over the long table.
Our cook served food the moment we had taken our seats. Tonight, it was racks of lamb with a salad of wild herbs and roasted carrots. The perfect food for a warm day. She left a bottle of red wine on the table for us. Samuel took the bottle and lifted it. “Would you like a glass?”
I quickly shook my head. I couldn’t drink every day. Samuel poured himself a generous glass. We ate in silence for a while, mainly because I was so hungry and needed to sate my first hunger, not to mention that the lamb melted on your tongue. Eventually, Samuel leaned back in his chair, took a gulp from his wine as he regarded me. “Leo mentioned you made an appointment at a dance studio.”
Anger burst through me. So he wasn’t only listening to my calls but he also reported to Samuel before I could tell him?
“His duty is to me, Emma. There’s no reason to be angry with him.”
I put down my cutlery. “So you suggest I should be angry with you for spying on me.”
Remembering how I’d checked his phone, warmth crept into my cheeks, but I held my head high, too stubborn to back down. Samuel’s cool blue eyes held mine without a flicker of remorse in them. His gaze was unrelenting and dominant. It was a struggle to hold it. Eventually, I dropped my gaze under the pretense of grabbing my glass to drink. I doubted I fooled Samuel.
When I looked up, his expression was pleased. “Why do you want to go to that dance studio?”
“To dance. I would like to dance again. It’s as simple as that.”
Samuel tilted his head, obviously curious.
“It’s a studio that specializes in integrative dance.”
“It is not Outfit-owned, nor do they pay us for protection.”
I huffed. “It’s a dance studio. I doubt there are many under your protection.”
“None, unless you count pole dancing.”
I shook my head in exasperation. “Leo can accompany me there like he does everywhere else.”
“Will you dance with male partners?”
“That depends. Maybe. But of course, I can’t do the same moves as someone without a wheelchair would, so not everything is possible.”
Samuel gave a shake of his head. “I don’t like the idea of you being surrounded by people who aren’t part of our world. They don’t share our values, nor do they know the consequences of breaking them.”
“Leo will be there, and even most Outsiders will be very aware of who you are.”
“I’m a businessman with a net worth of many millions.”
“Yeah. Nobody believes that.”
Samuel shrugged. “I don’t want you to do any sports or anything really outside of our world.”
“But—”
“Emma, I made my decision, and you will obey.”
Tears of anger sprang into my eyes. I had been looking forward to this and he was taking it from me because he wanted to stay in utter control. I pushed back from the table. “I’m not hungry anymore. If you’ll excuse me.” I left before he could say something. I didn’t care if I shouldn’t act like this so shortly into our marriage. He made me utterly furious. There were enough restrictions in my life as a disabled woman in our world. Why did he have to put more on me?
I got ready for bed even though it wasn’t that late yet, but I’d simply had enough of the day. I perched on the edge when Samuel entered. His gaze settled on me. He looked angry. He stalked toward me and towered over me. I jutted my chin out and stared at him. He bent down and cupped my head, his lips crashing down on mine as he pressed me back into the mattress with his body. I was utterly stunned by his actions but kissed him back as his tongue plunged into my mouth. He pulled back slightly, his blond brows in a deep frown. “I don’t think I like your temper.”
He kissed me again before I had a chance to say anything in return. His kiss robbed me of my ability to think, but I was still hurt and angry. I didn’t want him to think I would just tolerate it all. His hand slid down my waist and under my nightgown. I brought my palms against his shoulders and pressed as hard as I could, and tore my lips from his. “No, stop. I don’t want this.”
His fingers had reached my panties by now. His hungry gaze hit me. “Your body speaks a different language.”