I wake up with a start, a string of curses leaves my lips as I turn to lie on my stomach and sigh in relief at the switch of positions. My whole body is sore, my anus, vagina and nipples scream for some tender loving care plus a warm bath. I blink twice, noting the change in the colours of the walls for the first time, we are in our bedroom but I have no recollection of how I got here. A small laugh escapes me, I am a deep sleeper, I can sleep through a storm and last night was hell, there is no way I would have felt him carry me.

The mattress dips with a new weight, Brandon’s face comes into view and I frown, he chuckles but I don’t share in his humour. This man almost split my asshole, nearly ripped off my nipples and vagina with those damn clamps he used on them and he has the guts to laugh at me like he can handle the number of strokes he dished out. He needs an ass-whooping, let us see if he will remain amused when I am done with him.

My frown deepens into a scowl; he reaches for my forehead but I slap his hands away. He is not my favourite person in the world right now, I demand an apology from him and a date with lots of cake, ice-cream too. Plenty kisses and a full body massage.

“You have low pain tolerance,” he says as his fingers find their way under the duvet and to my naked body. I scoff, bold of him to say such a thing when he was treating me like a professional subordinate. “Bad sub.”

A part of me is glad the teasing doesn’t go beyond that but I am still annoyed. I don’t know how but I have a gut feeling my entrance into the BDSM world would have been warmer, more welcoming if we didn’t quarrel before leaving France. I am his wife not some random slut he picked up on the streets and he treated me worse than that.

“It was my first time but you didn’t care,” I fire back and hiss. “I don’t like you again.”

His position at the edge of the bed offers him full access to my body and I hiss in pain when he runs his fingers over my nipples. I wince and squirm when his fingertips graze my buttcrack, lingering on my butthole, it still hurts. The ache in every part of my body is the only reason I am lying on my stomach with my ass in the air, it’s the only posture that doesn’t hurt but he must have taken it to mean I wanted his touch. Well, I do want his touch, I always do but he doesn’t have to know that until he earns my forgiveness.

“But I still like you,” he whispers with a small smile and I have to fight back the urge to reciprocate it. His charms won’t work today. “Your bath is ready when you are.”

My body thrums in delight when I feel his fingers slide into my warmth and I frown, I don’t get it, why am I always wet for him? I should be upset and I am but my body says otherwise, we want him thrusting into me. Letting out a sigh, I bite my lips, I will have to deny my body of its needs for now. I pull his arm away from me, hating that I miss his touch immediately he retracts his hand. My legs are wobbly as I try to get off the bed, my anus puckers in pain when my feet meet the ground and my butt screams for me to stand. I might need ice for my asshole but I don’t know how to voice that odd request.

Brandon attempts to leave and I tug on his shirt, I have work for him. “Carry me,” I say with a pout and stretch my hands, ignoring the wrinkles I made on his outfit. He looks set for work but I don’t care, he has to pay for getting me to this point.

“My body aches. I’m tired,” I add when he hesitates and bat my eyelashes at him. He frowns, I start sniffling until he crouches between my legs to inspect my face. The pad of his thumb brushes my cheek, a smile finds its way to our lips when he figures out I’m only acting up. I pout when he shakes his head, he can’t say no after my theatrics. “But I’m your favourite wife and I’m tired.”

“You are my only wife.”

“And your favourite,” I say with a smile. My hands come to rest on his shoulders, I jut my lower lip and sniff. “Carry me. Pleaaase.”

The corner of his lips twitch, I shriek when he lifts me bridal style and starts heading towards the bathroom. My breasts bounce, I giggle when his gaze trails to them before returning to my face. Ignoring his grunt when I reach for the top buttons of his shirt, I tug on his beards and stick out my tongue when he growls out a warning I disregard.

Brandon lowers me into the tub and a soft sigh escapes my lips as the knots in my joints begin to loosen at the contact of warm water against my taut skin. He folds the sleeves of his shirt, I pout and cry out for him to come back when he makes to leave.

“I have to get to work,” he murmurs.

“I don’t want you to go to work,” I whine while squirming and beating the surface of the water which causes some of it to splash to the floor. He arches an eyebrow but doesn’t move from that spot, I frown, he pulls his trousers up to his knee and I smile when he comes to sit on the edge of the tub with his legs on either side of me.

His hands massage my shoulders, I let out a soft sigh and dig the back of my head into his knee. I offer him the loofah after squeezing a generous amount of body wash into it, biting on my lips when he runs it against my areola. Left to me, I want him inside the tub with my back pressed against his chest, the same way as our wedding night but I will take what I can get, this is more than enough. His finger caresses my sore nipples again, images flood my mind and I am reminded of the reason for my punishment, our quarrel.

I grab the loofah from him to continue washing myself, annoyed for letting things slide so fast. Maybe I am too forgiving or I tolerate his excesses but isn’t that the way it should be? He gave me the option of using my safe word from the start but I refused to.

The fingers running through my tresses has my head falling back into Brandon’s lap. I stifle a moan, he knows all the right things to do, my body reacts in the best ways to him. Doing my best to resist him, I put my hair into a messy bun and edge away from him. He growls, my neck tilts in his direction. His hands are resting on his knees and he’s staring at me with a mild frown. I bite my lips, maybe I wasn’t as subtle as I thought I was.

“Why BDSM?” I murmur.

“It’s what I know,” he replies. A long pause ensues before I hear, “Do you want to quit?”

His initial reply leaves me more curious than satisfied but I swallow my other questions. I don’t believe him one bit. In France, we made love more than once. BDSM isn’t the only way around a woman’s body he knows but I nod in agreement. I will figure him out, we have the rest of our lives together for me to do that. Moving to the other end of the tub to get a better view of him, I wince when my back hits the bathtub and his eyes narrow.

“It’s painful, my whole body hurts.” He nods, lips set in a straight line and red, hot fury flashes through me. “Is that it? Do you enjoy causing me pain?” He steps out from the tub, signifying the end of a talk that has barely begun. Water drips from his knees and hands to the floor, without a word to me, he starts for the sink. I take a deep breath and scream at his retreating back, “Why can’t we have a conversation like normal couples?”

He spins so fast to face me; I have to place a hand over my chest to keep calm. He won’t hurt me. “We are a normal couple,” he says as a dark look crosses his features. I nod and gulp, I shouldn’t have said that. “Do you want to quit?” I shake my head; I’m willing to remain his sub but I want to understand him better. “Next time, use your safe word if it hurts.”

My head goes up and down, I swallow and wipe at the stupid tears trailing down my cheek. I am not usually this sensitive but for some reasons, my emotions are all over the place. Brandon is not being helpful, he dismisses our talks before they even start, I have to coerce him into divulging any piece of information I want about him and it’s getting tiring. Normal couples talk freely with each other; they know communication is key.

“El.”

“It’s fine,” I mutter with my eyes cast down, scrubbing my body harder than necessary.

I feel his presence behind me but I don’t let up with the scrubbing until he grabs the loofah from me. A scowl settles on my face, I glare at him when he comes into view and sigh when a smile flits to his lips, he has a weird sense of humour, nothing about this is funny. He traces a line on my lower lip, goes up to my scalp and my hair cascades down.

“I like your hair down,” he mutters as he runs his fingers through them.

Twirling a strand of hair around my finger, I look away from him and say, “I know.”

He hooks a finger under my jaw and my breath catches in my throat when our eyes meet. “I don’t enjoy causing you pain.” I gulp, unable to speak. “But you keep disobeying me, why?” He takes a deep breath and lets go of my chin. “Your water is getting cold.”

“Brandon,” I call out to him when he makes for the door, he spins and cocks his head.

“I have to get to work, El.” His eyes ask me to bear with him but the burning question in my mind demands an answer, the main reason for our fight and it can’t wait.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“You haven’t given me a reason to.”

That bloody answer again. My ears burn at those words but they don’t hurt as much as hearing him say it the first time. “But I trust you.”

“Because I earned it.” I start to shake my head and he raises his hand, walking back to the tub. “I have given you no reasons to distrust me but you have.”

Without him saying it out loud, I know who or what he is referring to. “But Sophia was naked in your office, she was all over you.”

“And you used that as an excuse to cheat on me. On the second day. How can you let a woman you just met touch you?” I avert my eyes at his accusation and sigh, it’s not an accusation if he’s right and I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the best of me.

“I’m sorry,” I say, I want to forget about that day. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Dear wife, you know you are quite presumptuous.” I nod. “What you see isn’t always as it is. Sometimes, facts can be wrong.” His fingers caress my jaw, I giggle and bring them to my chest. He offers me a small smile. “You are yet to earn my trust but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I told you once, I want you to be happy and I meant that.”

“If you want me to be happy, stay with me, don’t go to work today.” I suck on my lower lip and sigh when I see the conflict written all over his face, I’m not being fair. If he had to cut our honeymoon short for important work, I should let him go. “Alright.”

He places a chaste kiss on my lips. “We can do whatever you like when I return.” I smile at him and nod. “Does your body still hurt?” I shake my head. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

Placing my head on the bathtub, I watch with a small smile on my face as he saunters out of the bathroom. A warm feeling cocoons itself in my chest, I sigh in content, happy with the state of our relationship. We might fight often but we will always reconcile, we are perfect for each other like coffee with cream and I look forward to our future as one.

My heart flutters at the thought that invades my mind, my whole body tingles at the not-so-sudden realisation. I love him with his flawed reasoning and broken pieces. I love my husband.

* * *

I step into the dining room, surprised to see Brandon bent over the table with his eyes trained on a tablet. He has changed into a grey suit, his hair has been swept away from his face and a tie that was missing earlier is present. I let out a low whistle, he is hot.

“You are here,” I state and his head whips in my direction. He offers me a smile and the joy spreading through my heart evaporates at the sight of his suitcase on the seat, he’s still going to work. “Why are you still here?”

Making myself comfortable in the empty seat closest to him, I wrap my hand around the mug he pushes to me. I inhale and smile at the bubbles on top, a sip from the cup and my eyes widen. He laughs and I smack his arm, for someone who claims he cannot love me, he goes out of his way to make me happy. I take another sip of my whipped coffee and smile shyly at him. He does so much for me, I have no idea how to repay him.

“Why are you still here?” My mouth closes over the waffle; I moan when I notice it’s the flat potato cake waffle made with the same grid pattern. His eyes darken with lust, I lick the crumbs off my lips without breaking eye contact and pout when his gaze narrows.

Almost certain he hasn’t taken breakfast, I bring the waffle to his lips. I smile as he munches slowly before taking a sip from my mug and my jaw nearly hits the table.

“What?” he queries when my eyes grow to the size of saucers. I gesture to the mug in his hand and giggle, I wish I had recorded this priceless moment. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s not bad at all,” I correct and he chuckles, taking another sip so he can fake gag. I shake my head and point to the tablet he was frowning at. “Do you need help?”

He nods and I amble to sit on his laps. There are different fancy cars on the screen of his tablet and my eyes zero in on a black Audi, I can’t drive so well but I want it.

“I should have done this long ago but I forgot,” he mutters with his forehead creasing. My fingers caress his cheeks, I place a chaste kiss on his lips and ask him to tell me the issue. “We want to get a new car for Danielle.” I try to keep a neutral expression at the mention of a female’s name but fail. Brandon chuckles when I squeeze my lips and he bops the tip of my nose. “Danielle is a staff who lost her husband, we are trying to help.”

My lips move into a pout and I nod, I can’t imagine the pain she must be going through. I can’t deal with Brandon being upset with me or leaving for a short period, let alone knowing I won’t see him again. My shoulders sag, I want him here with me, always.

“Who’s we?” I ask and my hands go around his neck.

Brandon looks embarrassed at my question and it causes my eyebrows to rise. “Me.” I giggle and he frowns. “I’m only trying to alleviate the grieving process for her. Her car broke down,” he mutters and I nod, my face taking on a serious look. He cocks his head to one side and smiles. “To be honest, her old car was a wreck, I’m glad it took a break.”

We chuckle and I press my forehead to his, it’s so obvious yet he fails to see how much of a good man he is. I bring his arms around my waist and pick the tablet. My eyes fall on the Audi, I point at it and shake my head, this is not about me. Danielle needs a car.

“Does she have kids?” I ask and he nods. “How many?” His forehead creases, he lifts four fingers, shakes his head and drops one. “Three kids... This should do.” His eyes follow my index finger to the Mercedes on his screen, it looks like it can fit a family of five. I know I made the right decision when he smiles and pulls my head down for a kiss.

“You have great taste, I like it too,” he whispers and nibbles on my ear. My body vibrates when he kneads my buttock and I bite my lips to stop myself from wincing and moaning. I will need a few days for the soreness to disappear. “I have to go.”

“I know,” I murmur and place another kiss on his lips. “I’ll miss you until you return.”