Page 110 of His to Bedevil

Pulling up my emails, I start going through them, trying to concentrate on getting some work done while I can. Letting Irma calm down some. Letting myself calm down some. She’s pushing me past my limits right now, and I can only give her so much of my patience and only grasp on to my temperance for so long.

An email pops up from Marcus titled “Congrats, boss! You’re once again a married man!” Grinning, I rise to my feet and head upstairs to go check on my wife. I’m just dying to give her the good news. I wonder how we’ll celebrate.

Entering the room, I see the mess she’s made, and it pisses me off all over again. I take my suit jacket off and lay it over the back of the chair as Irma comes out of the closet looking absolutely radiant. “Alejo, my love!” she exclaims dramatically, grinning widely and swaying her hips. “You work too hard, baby.” She pouts, jutting her bottom lip out. “Here, let me pour you a drink.”

Irma dolled herself up, and even though I know it’s only to fuck with me, I still can’t help but admire her. She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts sometimes. Like a doll. Designed perfectly. Her beauty can be used as a weapon, a weapon I am not immune to.

Unbuttoning my cuffs, I begin rolling up my sleeves to my elbows, preparing for whatever she’s up to as I watch her pour me an overflowing glass of fine whiskey. She slams the bottle down, most likely cracking the mirrored bar top, and sways her hips as she prowls toward me with a cracked grin. “Here you go, my love,” she purrs, and as I reach out for the glass, she intentionally lets it slip from her hand. It doesn’t shatter on the carpet, but the liquid splashes up and covers both her and me all over our legs. She raises her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Oops.” She even shrugs her shoulders and puts her hand over her mouth to be cute.

I’m already getting really tired of her childish tantrums. The moment she realizes my fury, her facade slips slightly. Only a tiny fraction. I step forward, and she steps back. I step forward again, and she steps back again. We continue this little dance as we both pick up the pace until she’s backing herself into the wall. My hand snaps up and wraps around her pretty little neck that she adorned with jewelry. She gasps when I squeeze, and her little smirk is replaced with indignation. My Irma, so defiant, so fierce. She shows no fear in her eyes, but her body starts trembling.

I back her all the way into the wall and pin her there by the neck and press my body into hers. Making sure she can feel my erection against her stomach. “You will clean this mess up,” I snarl.

“Or what?” she snaps back.

“Don’t push me,mi esposa. There’s more than just your freedom I can take away,” I warn.

“I’m not your fucking wife anymore. Remember?” she says through gritted teeth, then gasps when I tighten my hand even more around her slim neck.

My lips curl up into a sinister grin. “As of about ten minutes ago, you are. How would you like to celebrate?”

Her scowl drops, and she looks at me in horror. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did, my love.”

“Wow. I didn’t even get a wedding this time.” She lays the sarcasm on thick.

“Would you like one,mi amor?”

She narrows her eyes slightly. “You’re insane. I hate you.” She spits the words out like acid.

“No, you don’t, Irma. You still love me. You’re pissed off. That’s all.”

“You’re right.” My heart races, anticipating her next sentence. “I do love you still. But unlike last time, I abhor myself for it.”

I tighten my grip on her neck some more and watch her face turn red and her eyes fill with panic for just a moment before I release her. Her hand flies up to her neck, and she coughs a couple of times. I back up before she starts swinging at me again. “Clean this mess up, Irma. Or else…”

I walk away before I tear that beautiful dress off her body and fuck the spite right out of her. And before she can retaliate and really make me lose it. I’m a man of control, but with a temper that she has yet to really see. I would never hit her or cause her physical harm. There are many other ways I can punish her without raising a hand.

Knowing she won’t clean up like I told her to, I call Juanita and send her up there. No matter how pissed off Irma is, I know she doesn’t have the heart to take it out on Juanita at all. That’s the first punishment I’m handing out. She’s going to watch Juanita clean up her mess. But I’m only getting started. She thinks she can taunt me with her pretty dress and makeup? I wonder what she will taunt me with if I take away every single article of clothing she has.

When I had Juanita clear out her things from the closet, my mother intercepted her and had her put them in another room until I came to my senses, she claims. They’ll just have to go back into that room until Irma decides to behave.

When I told Juanita to do just that after the mess was cleaned up, she gave me an earful of muttered cursing in Spanish, but she did as she was told.

All the while I watch in sick satisfaction from my office. As expected, Irma was nothing but polite to Juanita. She, of course, couldn’t stand by and watch Juanita clean up her mess, so she bent down and began picking up pieces of broken glass, ignoring Juanita’s protests. Irma helped her until it was all done. Then Juanita sadly apologized to Irma and told her what I had ordered her to do. Irma’s fists clench at her sides, but she doesn’t fight the woman. She just nods her head and stomps away and out to the terrace. I switch to the camera out there and watch her. Watch her as her long and beautiful locks blow in the wind and the way her mouth turns down as she gazes out at the ocean. Stubborn woman.

I wait until Juanita finishes up and then offers her some food. Irma just shakes her head as she continues to stare out. She continues to do so for a while after she’s left alone.

Almost a half hour later, she walks back inside and takes her dress and every piece of jewelry off, leaving them in a pile. Wearing just a bra and panties, she disappears into the bathroom, and since I’m not as sick as she claims, I let her have her privacy in there. When she emerges, I see that her face is clear of makeup now. Walking over to the bed, she calmly lifts the covers and crawls underneath them and stares blankly at nothing.

Shutting down the footage, I massage my temples with my fingers. Irma is going to be the death of me.

Irma

My plan to fuck with Alejo totally backfired. He knew damn well I wouldn’t be able to stand there and watch as Juanita cleaned up my mess from my tantrum. Well played.

Then he took all of my fucking clothes so that I’m forced to either walk around naked or wear his fucking clothes. Another well-played hand. I hate how fucking clever and omniscient he is. He knows everything always and is constantly one step ahead.

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