Page 59 of Vengeful Seduction
I stopped talking to give him a chance to say something. Anything. He still didn’t react. I felt a little like I was talking to a stone wall, except for those eyes, which watched me and seemed almost pained. I couldn’t even start to guess why, but I had to make him understand.
“You’re the only man I want. If you want to tie me up and dominate me, I would love it. But no one else. Not Brent, not anyone. Not ever. I will never have another man in my bed.”
He continued to say nothing, to do nothing, as though frozen in place. I shook my head. Words weren’t getting through to him, so actions were going to have to.
Without hesitation, I rose up onto my knees on the bed, so I was at the right level to fling my arms around him. I kissed him, opening my mouth to him and moaning when he plunged his tongue inside my hot mouth.
He was shaking a little, I realized. I hadn’t noticed before, but this close, I couldn’t miss it. His breath was hard and fast, like an animal panting. His arms, as they closed around me, held me so tightly I could barely breathe.
He wanted me. I could tell, not only from his rapid breathing. When I pressed against him, he was hard, throbbing, and obvious even through his pants. And there was desperation in the way he held me.
“You’re mine, Kaye,” he growled, and the desire was very clear in his voice. I knew how he sounded when he was turned on, and my own body flowed with arousal in response to his. “You’ll do what I tell you to do.”
Has this man lost his damn mind?
I stared at him. Yes, I was very wet, and if he’d wanted me for himself, I would have given myself to him in a second. The things he was saying, though, were a different matter entirely.
“What do you mean?” I whispered, looking into his eyes, my hips still pressed tightly against his arousal. The sexual tension was thick between us, and I wanted him to just give this whole crazy idea up, to throw me on the bed, and to take me. Maybe tie me up, too.
“I mean I’m bringing Brent in.” His chest heaved with his intense, rapid breaths. He stared into my eyes, challenging me. “You’ll do what you’re told, Kaye. You’re mine, and if I say Brent is joining us, then you’ll take it and you’ll like it.”
I couldn’t believe the words spewing from my husband’s mouth. I couldn’t actually be hearing what I thought I was hearing. This man was supposed to love me. How dare he speak to me like that?
“We’re going to tease you,” he continued, almost taunting me. “We’re going to do whatever we like to your body, and you’re going to thank us for it by the end.”
With those last words, he officially crossed a line with me. It was bad enough that he didn’t seem to care about whether I wanted any of this or not, but to suggest Brent could fuck me if he wanted to? To pretty much outright say I would be expected to allow him to if David wanted it?
Never.
I pulled away from him and slapped him across the face. Hard. I had never, not in my entire life, slapped anyone across the face, but I was willing to start. In this one situation, I had no problem putting my normal pacifistic self aside, at least for a few seconds.
“How dare you?” I asked, and the question was genuine. I honestly didn’t understand where was coming from, saying the things he was saying.
He stared at me in shock, one cheek bright red, so I slapped him across the other for good measure. I felt sick to my stomach, but also deeply gratified. Hopefully the slaps would teach him a little bit about who I was, since he apparently didn’t already know.
“Kaye, I own you,” he insisted, and my eyes narrowed as I glared at him.
God, I loved this man, but he drove me insane sometimes. What game was he playing here? I could swear I had been right before and he was trying to push me into Brent’s arms. It would all make sense—how cold he was to me and how he kept wanting me to share myself with Brent.
Maybe it was my imagination, but whatever the case was, I had had enough. He was acting insane, and until he could be more reasonable, there was really only one thing for me to do.
“Get out,” I whispered, and my eyes prickled with sudden tears. I blinked them back. I was crying far, far too much these days and enough was enough. I was no victim.
“Kaye, what …?” His voice was stunned, and I was glad. Let him know what it felt like, for once, to feel uncertain and off balance. He’d been doing it to me since our wedding day. Time for him to taste some of his own medicine.
“You heard me. Get out! You don’t own me. I love you, but that doesn’t give you any excuse to speak to me the way you are right now. I choose what happens to my body, David, not you. So you can leave until you can behave like a reasonable human being.”
David blinked, and I knew my fury had surprised him. Good. Maybe he’d think twice before trying to pull this crap again.
“Where am I supposed to sleep?” he asked, and I just shook my head. I wasn’t going to let his unspoken plea move me.
“I don’t care,” I told him. “Somewhere else. You need to think about what you want, David, and until you do, I want you out of my sight.”
He left, then, and I watched him go—watched him slam the door shut behind him. Only then did I collapse onto the bed, sobbing softly.
The anger left me and only sadness remained—a deep sadness that still couldn’t quite numb me to the horror of the conversation I’d just had with my boneheaded husband.
If only I could stop loving him.
