“You are mine too, Brandon, my husband,” I mutter with my hands between my legs.

“Always, El, always.”

Silence descends on us, a small smile settles on my lips, I am still reeling from the fact he thinks so highly of me, that he wants me as much as I want him, maybe even more and at the sight of my card, my smile grows. I tuck it into the envelope and place it inside the pocket of my coat, I will inspect it later.

The car slows to a stop in front of a refined restaurant with a foreign name, Brandon places another kiss at the back of my hand and steps out to open my side of the door. I get out of the Ferrari, place a chaste kiss on his lips and wrap my arms around his waist. My head rests on his chest, his heart beats in sync with mine and the rhythm calms me. I pull away when his hand comes to rest on the small of my back, filled with a strange but warm emotion.

Our fingers are laced together as we walk the short distance to the entrance of the restaurant and I shiver in response to the cold. I would have taken my coat in the backseat if Brandon didn’t say otherwise and I hope he has good reasons for that. His long-sleeved turtleneck paired with black trousers and suede boots helps to keep him warm but I can’t say the same for my knee-length floral gown. I shiver again and he squeezes my hand, I can’t wait to be inside and warm.

Little thoughts went into my packing and I have repeatedly refused Brandon’s offer for us to go shopping for more weather suitable outfits. He has done enough for me, plus, we don’t leave the room so often. We step into the restaurant and I bite my lips hard to stop myself from opening my mouth in awe, it feels like we walked into a movie scene.

Soft music plays from an unknown source in the empty place, all the lights have been dimmed to create a romantic ambience. I gulp at the sight of the small candles lining either side of the entrance with rose petals scattered all over the path Brandon and I will take. A sweet fragrance hangs in the air; I wrap my arm around Brandon’s as if to convince myself this is real. It is. It is real.

“I rented the whole place for the night,” Brandon whispers in my ears and I fight the urge to start bawling like a new-born. He did say we were going on a proper date, nothing like the diner or park but I was not expecting this.

Brandon’s arms running up and down mine brings my attention back to his face, I sniff and wipe those traitorous tears that spilt to my cheeks. A line appears between his brows, I reach out to smoothen it and palm his face, conveying my emotions through my tear-filled eyes. He has gone out of his way for me on several occasions yet I have done nothing to repay him. Not even once.

“El, are you okay?” I nod and his fingers come to my cheeks to wipe the tears leaking out of my eyes. “You don’t like the place? I don’t like it when you cry and if it’s cos of this place, we could go somewhere else.”

My palms cover his, I shake my head slowly, preparing to speak when a lady approaches us. Her eyes dart between me and Brandon whose back is turned to her, I offer her a small smile, tiptoe to give him a kiss that shows everything is fine. I love this place.

Brandon’s hand wounds around my waist when the lady clears her throat and I bury my head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I like to think his heart beats for me, same way mine does for him. He might claim to be unable to love me but his actions betray his words, he cares deeply for me and I intend to bring out the lover in him. Loving him is easy, he makes it so easy.

“Welcome Mr and Mrs Stark, my name is Sadie and I will be attending to you for the night,” the woman says. “Come with me.”

A ghost of a smile flitters to my lips, at least I can pronounce her name easily. I giggle and stop almost immediately when I feel Brandon’s gaze boring into me, I don’t want him thinking I broke down again. I’m fine.

Sadie steps in front of us to guide us to our seats and Brandon chuckles when I refuse to let go of his arm. He smacks my buttocks, I giggle and do the same, once, twice, I am about to smack his butt a third time when he grabs my hand. We both go still when Sadie spins to face us and the smile on our lips disappear at her blank expression.

The music comes to a stop, Sadie points to a table with a bucket of wine, a menu and glasses at the centre. We nod, my hand finds Brandon’s and he gives it a small squeeze. The light here in this area is brighter than the ones at the entrance, I can see Sadie’s face better. She has no makeup on and her gaze doesn’t linger on Brandon the way some women have been doing. I like her.

“Thank you, Sadie,” we chorus. She smiles back at us, takes her leave with a promise to return shortly and we give her a curt nod.

Once Sadie is out of sight, I throw myself at Brandon who hoists me up. My legs go around his waist; I capture his lips in a kiss which he returns with the same fervour. His hands come under my gown, his palms cup my buttocks and I moan into our kiss, biting down on his lower lip. Alternating between his lips and other parts of his face, I grunt when he pinches my ass and laughs.

A clearing of throat forces me to tuck my head into the crook of his neck, I remain that way while he and Sadie converse in low tunes, embarrassed to be caught in this position. Brandon’s doesn’t seem to care, his hands are still under my gown, he squeezes my butt and I have a hard time stifling my moans or stopping myself from hitting him.

When Sadie leaves, the light grows dim, dim enough for us to see our surroundings and touch each other without being under the radar. Brandon takes a step forward and my butt connects to a soft, plush seat. He crouches in front of me while I hide my face in my palm, feeling shy for no reasons.

“Where were we?” he murmurs against my palms, littering kisses all over my knuckles.

He brings my palms away from my face and captures my lips again. His hands move slowly to cup my breast through the gown and I moan into the kiss. We pull apart for air, our chests fall and I notice our meal is already on the table. I open one of the plates and the aroma that wafts into my nostrils has me picking up a spoon to have a bite.

The whitish sauce settles on my tongue and it nearly explodes from the burst of different flavours present. I moan and find myself taking more bites, forgetting what Brandon just said about the meal, I have no idea what the name is but we need to take some to the hotel. It’s my best meal so far.

One of my eyes open, I catch my husband staring at me, I look down at my laps and smile, he hasn’t taken a bite yet. My spoon digs into the ceramic plate, I scoop some of the sauce and point it to him. A sheepish smile graces my face when it disappears into his mouth and his eyes grow bigger.

“Come here.” I close the distance between us, he takes the spoon from me, feeding me at intervals, wiping the corner of my lips.

We continue that way, talking and kissing in between until the bucket of wine calls our attention. He retrieves the bottle and it leaves a trail of droplets on the table, I scream when he opens it with a pop sound only to be rewarded with mocking laughter.

The clear liquid flows into the cup, bubbles rise to the surface and Brandon takes it as his cue to move to my flute. He raises his glass but I stop him before it meets his lips.

He arches an eyebrow, I smile and raise the glass. “To us and our future as one. Cheers.”

Our glasses clink, I take a sip, stare at him for a while and drop the flute to the table. He empties his glass in one gulp, refills it and tilts it in my direction before finishing half its content at once. I snatch his glass, set it to the table and switch to a straddling position. Hooking a finger under his jaw, I bite my lip, unable to identify the intense emotion in his eyes.

His fingers trail a line on my thigh, pushing my gown up as they near the band of my panties. Our foreheads touch, I suck my lips and pout when his eyes darken. I trace the contour of his nose, stop at his upper lip and suck in a sharp breath when his fingers move closer to my warmth. An inch forward and he will be inside my wetness.

“Take it off,” he commands. I nod and pull off my panties with shaky hands. He grabs it from me to sniff it and my shoulder sags in relief when he smiles. His fingers dig into my scalp, I sigh softly. “Tell me about you.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I murmur. “I am boring.” A chuckle escapes my lips in a bid to defuse the awkwardness. “You read my file, you should know everything there is to know about me already. Nothing to tell.”

“There’s always something to tell, a story.”

“Like the story behind your scar,” I mutter before I can stop myself. Brandon’s body goes rigid, I blink and stare at him. I should have kept my lips sealed. “I am sorry. I was, I didn’t... You don’t have to talk about it.”

His hand returns to my butt, I moan when his fingers graze the entrance of my core. I love what he’s doing but I want us to talk about him, the scar at the nape of his neck that’s hidden under his brown locks, away from curious eyes. It looks deep and I want to know who had the guts to hurt my baby.

“Brandon,” my voice cracks, “my baby.”

He inserts a finger into my warmth, then another one, thrusting in and out slowly as I begin squirming on his lap. I moan and jerk forward, trying to keep my eyes open. My fingers run through his hair, I clamp down on his wrists and shake my head furiously when he starts to unbuckle his belt.

“Elna. I want you for dessert,” he whispers. I blink twice and nod. He can’t continue using sex as an escape but today, I am willing to let it slide. If it hurts so bad to think or talk about it then I will help him forget, for now.

In a breathless voice, I say, “I’m all yours.”

Brandon resumes his thrusting, his fingers begin to move faster and heat builds in my tummy as I near my apex. He withdraws his fingers, my chest rises and falls, my jaw slacks in confusion until he motions to the bulge in his trousers. I raise myself high enough for him to free his dick from its prison, he guides it into my wetness and I moan in relief as I feel it expand inside me.

We form a rhythm after Brandon spanks my ass when he notices how hesitant I am to bounce on his dick. His hands squeeze my breasts while I keep bobbing up and down on his penis, enjoying our combined sounds. My jaw hangs open, my breathing becomes laboured with each bounce, each thrust and I let out a cry when he yanks my hair which falls all over my face. Pain spreads through my scalp when he grabs a fistful, I wince and he loosens his hold.

I blink back the tears standing in my eyes, knowing how savage he becomes when he is only having sex to take his mind off things. His phone ringtone cuts through the air, bringing him back from his trance, I bite my lip, half-hoping he will pick his call so I can recover from his deep thrusts but he ignores it and rams into me. The phone rings again, I heave a sigh of relief when Brandon pulls it out of his pocket with a string of curses, taking in a deep breath.

“Yes?” he growls into the phone and I feel bad for the person on the receiving end. I caress his cheek, kiss him until his jaw relaxes, rotating my hips with the initial speed we started before he got crazy.

The call ends, his fingers trace a line on my jaw and I tense, afraid he will resume his animalistic thrusting. I want him to talk to me instead of trying to drown in his guilt, his pain, using sex as a means to fill the void. A small smile takes over my lips when his hands come to my waist, allowing me to lead the pace. He grunts, swiping at the hairs over my face and my smile grows, this is how sex between couples should be, a communion. Now, we are both enjoying it.

Heat begins to build in my stomach, I pick up speed, bouncing on his erection like we are at a riding competition. My breath comes in short rasps; his fingernails dig into my sides as we both near our peak. After one last clumsy bounce, I let out a stifled sound as my orgasm racks my entire body. I shiver, touch my forehead to his and he takes my lower lip between his teeth. I wrap my arms around his neck, overwhelmed by an urge to stay in his embrace forever.

“This is the best dessert ever,” I murmur into his ear and he nods his response.

My fingers graze his scar when I make to stand from his laps and he stills. I place my palms on his shoulders, at a loss on what to say. Without thinking twice, I hug him and tuck my head into the crook of his neck, hoping for him to talk to me. He has a lot to expel and I don’t want him to get to his breaking point before he explodes or bleed on the wrong person. I am here for him.

Brandon’s hand comes to the small of my back, I sigh and snuggle closer to him, ignoring the stickiness between my legs. We need to clean up but that can wait. My husband needs me more. His voice is husky when he says, “My brother gave it to me.”

“What?”

“My brother gave me the scar, we had a fight.”

His words pierce through the fog in my brain, I raise my head and blink morosely at him. My fingers locate the scar and I trail a line over it, relieved when he stays calm.

“Your brother from the same mother?” I ask when my hands return to my laps. He chuckles and nods, I roll my eyes, failing to find the humour in my question. “What did your parents say? Where were they?”

“Nothing,” he mutters with a sad smile. My eyes widen, I blink twice and he shrugs. “I was already fixed by the time they got home, so they gave me a gift, my first gold wristwatch, a replica of my brother’s.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “I hated that watch and after I got my inheritance I never accepted anything from them.”

I swallow, numerous thoughts run through my head. Anger sinks its claws into my chest, filling me with the need to hurt the people who hurt my baby. A sigh escapes me, I look down and twiddle my fingers in shame. That explains it, his dislike for gifts.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. I don’t know if I am apologising for my gift or his parent’s behaviour but I reiterate my apology, “Sorry.”

He places a finger on my lips to hush me, I eye his movements when he fumbles with his neckline and smile shyly when the gold necklace I gifted him comes into view. My fingers run over the pendant, I chuckle and my heart blooms with pride. I left mine back home out of anger but as soon as we land, I will wear it and never take it off.

“Do you like it?”

He puts it out of sight and takes my hand in his, trailing the lines on my palm. “I think so.” His eyes lift to mine. “It feels odd.”

Thinking he is referring to the quality, I quickly say, “I will get you a better one.”

His laughter rings in the air and a smile creeps up my lips. The next gift I give him will be from my money. “This one is perfect for me, dear wife. I don’t need another.”