I’d been expecting a different argument, bullshit about jealousy and possessiveness. Now I felt humbled by his speech. I’d brushed him off like this was a normal relationship, but it was anything but typical.
I followed him inside but didn’t know what to say. Once I apologized, he would have all the power again—and I didn’t like giving up a single ounce if I didn’t have to. I stared at his muscled back as my tongue tasted the words before they came out of my mouth. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry.” He turned around and faced me once again. “Be better.”
There he went…pissing me off again.
“There’s no one in the world you can trust more than me. I’m the man who will die for you, who will kill for you. Other people will talk shit the second you turn your back, and I’ll be the man that sticks up for you. Through thick and thin, through better or worse, I’m the man in your corner. Your allegiance is solely to me. I don’t give a shit if you’re out having a good time. I’m more important than anything you could possibly be doing. My life could change in an instant, so you better take my fucking call because you never know when it might be the last time we’ll speak.”
“I said I was sorry…”
“I don’t give a damn if you’re sorry. I don’t care about your apology. Just do as I say.”
My arms crossed over my chest, and I sighed.
He stared down at me with those dark eyes, still pissed off. “I could have a gun pointed to someone’s head, and I’d still take your call. You’re the most important thing in the world to me…and you’ll never have to doubt if that’s true.”
“Alright. Lesson learned.”
He still seemed livid, like my cooperation wasn’t enough damage control. “Take off your clothes.”
“I said I was sorry and…what?” I didn’t process his command right away. I assumed he wanted to continue to vent his frustrations. Once it became clear, my eyes narrowed, and I questioned everything I just heard.
“I said, take off your clothes.” He pushed off his pants and boxers, his dick hard even though he’d been yelling at me for ten minutes. Sculpted and strong, he stood proudly with his feet planted into the ground, his cock pointed at me like I was a target.
“I thought we were fighting.”
“And now we’re done.” He moved toward me to reach for the zipper at the back of my dress.
I thrust my palm into his chest. “Are you crazy? You’re mad, and I’m in a pissed off mood.”
“So?”
“So?” I asked incredulously. “I don’t want to have sex right now.”
“That’s too bad.” He grabbed my dress and got the zipper down before I slapped his hand away.
“Too bad?” I stepped back. “I’m not in the mood right now.”
“I can change that in thirty seconds.”
“Wow…fuck you.”
His eyes narrowed in anger, and he moved toward me again. “Let me explain something to you. When I come home, I want to have a drink, fuck, and then go to sleep. I’ve already had a drink, so you’re the next thing on my list.”
“I’m not a slave, Hades.”
“No. But you’re my wife, and that’s what wives do—bend over so their husband can fuck them.”
“Asshole.” I shook my head.
“Couples fight. They get angry with each other. Life goes on.” His powerful arms hung by his sides, the cords in his skin prominent along his muscles. He had been much kinder to me yesterday, but once our clothes were off, he turned into this aggressive man. A man who needed sex more than anything else. “My wife is the sexiest woman in the goddamn world, and I’m not an asshole for wanting to screw her. It doesn’t matter how pissed off you make me, I’m gonna want you as much as I did last night. So take off those goddamn clothes and bend over.”
“You’re still demanding me to do something—”
“You married me so I could protect you, preserve your hotel, and chase away the bad guys. I’ve upheld my end of the bargain—now it’s time to uphold yours.”
“That’s so romantic…”
He raised his brow. “You don’t think a husband wanting his wife is romantic? A man who wants one woman so much that it drives him fucking crazy? A man who will be faithful even when he doesn’t have to because there’s only one woman he wants? That’s the most goddamn romantic thing I’ve ever heard.” He grabbed the sleeves of my dress and yanked them over my shoulders so the material would slip down my body and land on the floor. “On the bed. Ass up. Face down.” He moved into me, his face tilted down to mine with menace in his gaze.
I didn’t want a man to speak to me that way, but my body responded to his command, my primal instincts kicking in. A part of me liked the way he spoke to me, the way he ordered me onto the bed so he could fuck me. And I also liked that there was no way out of this—that he would get what he wanted.