KIER
"Lean against the glass," I said. She looked up at me, her eyes briefly meeting mine, then turned around and placed her hands on the cool wall of the shower stall.
I stepped closer, lifting her waist slightly. She shivered under my touch, and I smirked, letting my palm glide along her waist and hips.
But then I saw them—the scars running across her back. My amusement vanished, replaced by a flare of anger.
Who the hell did this to her?
I had been forced to marry her, yet no one told me anything about her life. And truthfully, I hadn't cared enough to ask. My father claimed we were childhood friends, but I remembered none of it. Still, there had always been something off about her stepfamily. Something unspoken.
But I knew nothing. Not really.
I traced one of the jagged scars, my fingers gentle. She shivered again.
"Do they hurt?" I asked.
She turned slightly, glancing at me over her shoulder, then at my hand resting on the mark. She didn't answer right away—just stared at it for a moment before shaking her head and facing the wall again.
I moved closer, my chest nearly brushing her bare back. My hand traveled slowly up her spine, feeling each scar as if they were carved into me instead. Each one a story I hadn't been told. She was holding tension in her body like a dam barely holding itself together. I wanted to ask more, to understand her pain. But the words felt too heavy—too dangerous to say out loud.
I exhaled. From the reflection in the glass, I caught her watching me. There was a sadness in her eyes that hit me harder than I expected.
I didn't like it. Not one damn bit.
Without thinking, I wrapped my hand in her hair, pulling her gently until her hand left the glass. My other hand clutched her waist, her breath hitching in response. We locked eyes through the glass, the heat between us rising again.
"When you're with me, I don't ever want to see that jaded look in your eyes," I said, my voice low and rough—even I barely recognized it.
She nodded, her lips parted slightly, vulnerable.
I leaned down to her ear. "Good girl."
The look she gave me—like no one had ever praised her before—struck something deep inside me. I wanted to protect her. Keep her close. Hide her from whatever had hurt her.
I looked away, trying to clear my head, and slid my fingers between her legs.
"How did you see your tutor today?" I asked casually as I plunged two fingers inside her. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp. I glanced down but couldn't see clearly, so I lifted her right leg, balancing it in my hand, and watched through the glass as my cum spilled out of her.
"I asked you a question," I said, thrusting deeper, curling my fingers. More of my seed leaked out of her. She shuddered and nodded quickly.
"So, do you like it?" I asked again, pulling my hand out and examining it. It was coated with my release. Slowly, I smeared it over her belly, then up to her breasts, rubbing it over her nipples.
She closed her eyes and nodded again.
I smirked, feeling my dick harden all over again, pressed against her ass cheeks. I didn't move, just stared at her opening as my cum dripped out in slow, lazy trails.
I wanted to sink into her again. Hard. Deep. Until the tension inside me disappeared.
But I forced myself to stop. Tried to think of something—anything—dirty enough to make it go down.
Nothing worked.
She opened her eyes and glanced back at me. My eyes dropped to her lips.
How would it feel to taste them?
I closed my eyes. Kissing was too intimate.
But you kissed your other flings—so why is this different?
The thought came, uninvited. I shook it off.
It was different because… because…
Shit. I didn't even have the answer.
So instead, I let go of her leg and took a step back. I didn't look at her as I turned toward the door.
"Wash up," was all I said.
Just as I reached for the handle, she grabbed my hand, stopping me. I turned back to her.
I hated the look on her face—worried, unsure—like she thought she'd done something wrong. My chest tightened.
I stepped closer and cupped her cheeks. "I'm not upset with you," I said softly.
She looked up at me, eyes still hesitant, searching mine for truth. I nodded once, and after a moment, she let go of my hand.
I walked out, silently willing my dick to calm the hell down.
Thankfully, it did.
Still, I didn't want to stay in the room. I made my way downstairs to my study and decided to do something I should've done a long time ago—
Learn about my wife.
I had someone help pull up more information, and after a few minutes, I sat at my desk, opening my laptop to go over some files.
That's when I heard it—soft footsteps padding toward the door.
I glanced up.
Genesis stood there, holding a few books against her chest. She hovered near the doorway, eyes flickering from the floor to me, almost like she was waiting for permission.
"Come in, Genesis," I said.
She nodded and stepped inside, her movements quiet and unsure. She walked to my desk, stopped in front of me, and placed an open exercise book on the table.
I glanced down.
A spelling test—7 out of 10.
She wanted me to see it. My chest warmed, a soft smile tugging at my lips before I could stop it.
I stood slowly, and she turned, her back resting against the desk as I stepped closer.
So adorable.
The thought hit me out of nowhere, and I stiffened slightly. But it was true. She was adorable. There was no denying it.
I leaned in, one hand bracing the desk beside her, the other resting gently on her thigh.
"You did well, little wife," I murmured, voice low and sincere.
Her cheeks flushed instantly, her eyes widening just a bit. I leaned in and pressed a small kiss to her cheek.
Possessive.
That was how my hand felt on her thigh—like I didn't want to let go.
And the worst part?
I didn't.
I wanted to keep her. Keep her close. Keep her mine.
And that… that wasn't a good thing.
This shouldn't be happening.