Page 48 of Caged in Desire
It makes sense, though. From the moment I moved in, he’s gone the extra mile to make sure I was comfortable and taken care of. Even before our wedding, he had my happiness in mind as he made renovations to the estate that would soon be my home.
I shudder, thinking of how he had me bent over his desk, spanking and soothing my ass. The way he calls melittle girlwhen he’s so close to losing his wits.
As a girl who grew up with few choices in life, the irony isn’t lost on me either. I appreciated the way he picked out everything for me on our date, from my clothes to my food. How comfortable it was sitting on his lap as he cut my steak and fed me.
The difference is crystal clear to me, though. He’s not doing any of this to control me. He’s doing it to take care of me. My thoughts and feelings matter to him. In the two months I’ve lived here, he’s paid such close attention to me. He knows what my preference would be when the moment presents itself. In fact, he respects me so thoroughly that in the passion of any moment we’ve shared, he waits when I say wait.
Making my way back to my cozy nest of blankets by the fire, I pick my book back up and wait for Henry to come get me. I can’thelp but smile thinking about the dirty things we’re going to get into tonight. He may not realize it now, but he’s just left his king open.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny, girls,” I say to myself, having just realized my sisters-in-law recommended to me a MMF forced marriage book. Picking up my phone to shoot a text to the group chat, I realize the time. I’ve been reading for hours. And Henry hasn’t come to get me.
Laying my book down, I unburrow myself from my cozy cocoon and go to check on my husband. When I see that his study is open and empty, I head to his room.Our room?Will he expect us to sleep in separate rooms after last night? If he tries the excuse of not sleeping well with me again, I’m going to show him the video I was able to take of him completely knocked out, full-on spooning me, while his alarm blared.
I knock on the cracked door of his room before entering. It’s quiet and peaceful, with the afternoon sun filtering in through the window. Everything is immaculate, and I know that even if he didn’t have a team of housekeepers on staff, his room would be clean. Just like Henry, everything in his life is organized and structured.
His room is adorned in cool, dark tones, a far cry from the light, feminine way he had mine decorated. Do I even have a place here? He’s let me into almost every aspect of his life, but is this last sanctuary of peace too much? Walking to the side ofthe bed opposite the one I know he prefers, I lie back, imagining what it would be like to sleep here every night.
A grunt from outside reminds me of my mission to find Henry. Hopping off of the tall bed, I make my way to the window and see the man himself. Out in the snow. Chopping wood. Shirtless.Goddamn.
Grabbing my puffy coat, I make my way out to him. “Henry? I think we have enough wood to make it through winter,” I say, the scene getting sexier with each step I take closer. Despite the snow, Henry is dripping with sweat. I watch as flakes catch in his chest hair, his muscles flexed and swollen with the blood that’s been pumping through them. His hair, disheveled and wet, falls into his face.
“How long have you been out here?” I ask, approaching him slowly, like a wild animal I’m trying not to startle. “I thought you were going to come get me.”
He freezes mid swing the moment he sees me. Pausing momentarily before continuing his motion, he hits his mark and sends pieces of wood flying to the ground. He runs his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “Katarina, what are you doing out here? It’s freezing, and you’re not wearing a scarf or hat.”
“I came to find you. I missed you, and I’m sorry your call was so bad. I…”
“It wasn’t just the call,” he mumbles, putting another log on the chopping block. He swings the axe and finds his mark again. I watch as he repeats the motion, each swing splitting the wood with both precision and accuracy that only come from years of practice.
When he finally takes a moment's reprieve, I make my move.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask. Closing the gap between us, his scent— vanilla, mint, and his natural musk—strengthens, intensified from the sweat.
When he shakes his head, I drop to my knees, only an arm's length in front of him.
Game.
“You’ve had such a stressful day. Please let me help…”
Set.
His curious eyes search mine as I look up at him. “Daddy.”
Match.
The curiosity in his gaze wavers as an edge of darkness takes over his expression. He turns from me, pacing in the opposite direction. “Fuck!”he yells into the woods, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
He marches back over and lowers to his haunches in front of me, taking my jaw in his hands. “Say that again, little girl.”
I can’t control the devious smile and gleam in my eye as I watch him unravel before me. “I said, let me help take some of that stress away,Daddy.”
All I can do is squeal when he throws me over his shoulder, marching us toward the house.
Chapter twenty-three
“Please let me help…Daddy.”
All rational thought leaves my brain the moment she says those words. Every encounter we’ve had plays through my head like a crescendo leading up to this moment. The way her delicate fingers send tingles through my body every time they touch me. The way her mouth molds to mine when we kiss. The way she fell apart so beautifully in my arms when she came days ago.
