Married to a man who thinks my virginity a sin, his words come as a surprise to me and I have trouble answering him. I missed him, too much. Our squabble didn’t change that. My mouth parts open, no words depart from me and I close it to avoid looking foolish.
Silence lends volume to his words. “I was at work and all I could think of was you.” My heart thumps my chest, I can barely make out his words when his his lips start moving again. “How was your day? Did you miss me?”
My head bobs so fast and hard, my mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, this conversation has rendered me speechless and we haven’t gotten started yet. He cocks his head, I lick my lips, forcing the words out.
“Yeah, I did,” I let out in a whisper. Rubbing my clammy fingers over my gown, I pull on a loose thread. “My day was okay, I missed you too.”
“Good cos I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”
One look at him in his well-tailored suit and my thoughts evaporate, I swallow. Too bad he is a human edible I cannot have. Or, can I? My heart flutters, he hasn’t left my mind either but he is giving me mixed signals.
Brandon dumps his jacket on a stand I didn’t notice earlier, struts to the bed and makes himself at home beside me. I shift to create distance between us but he covers it and clamps a hand around my wrist to stop my next attempt at running. What does he want?
My back connects to the headboard, he palms my cheeks with his thumb caressing my lips and I forget what it means to breathe. My traitorous tongue darts out to wet his fingertip, he smirks and the throbbing between my legs intensifies.
“You look good,” he whispers into my ear. I moan, this isn’t working. The hands I place on his chest to push him away turns into jelly, I lean into him and my head falls back when he nibbles on my earlobe. He tugs on the ribbon holding my hair, my curls tumble down my chest and he smiles. “Even better now.”
“Thanks,” I manage to say. “You look good-”
The speech I gave myself about not touching him fly out the window when he places a kiss on my lips, swallowing the rest of my words and I slip my arms around his neck to stop him from pulling away. His tongue thrusts into my mouth as a moan escapes me and our tongue fights for dominance which he asserts. Our kiss grows heated as he alternates between pinching my nipples and rubbing the entrance of my core through the front of my gown, I growl as waves of pleasure crash over me.
Heat builds up in my belly, I curse myself for listening to Ma as Brandon’s wandering hands squeeze my breasts. I want him, skin to skin. Still, I follow his lead. Smiling internally when he places my hand on his shirt, I unbutton his shirt slowly and a moan slips past my lips as he pinches my nipples.
My hands come in contact with rock hard chest, going to squeeze one of his nipples. I smile in confidence as he moans just a little, grateful for his cooperation as I help him out of his shirt.
Emboldened by his silence, I lift myself to place a kiss on his lips, then another on his collar, hoping to explore other parts of his body with my eager mouth. But his addictive lips draws me back in, it starts off as a chaste kiss which deepens into something less innocent. I pull away for us to catch our breaths with my hands hanging from his shoulders and our foreheads touch, I want my first time to be memorable.
Soft, slow, gentle and passionate.
“Found it,” Brandon says, leaving me to wonder what he is talking about as my eyes focus on his swollen lips. Mine must be that way too.
My thoughts come crashing to a pause at the sight of the necklace in his hands. When our gazes meet, I am drawn in by the barely concealed lust in those eyes. I want him too.
“This isn’t nothing,” he says.
He lifts it so I can also see it, squinting to read what is written on the pendant. The switch goes off in my head, I try to pry it from him but it’s of no use.
“Who gave you this?”
Anger laces his voices, lashes out at me and I grow wary. This man will be hard to please.
“It’s a gift.” His eyebrow shoots up, I hug myself and rock from side to side. “A wedding present from us,” I continue, “from the bride and her family to you.”
He takes one long look at the necklace and I wait for his verdict. “Bought with whose money?”
His questions demands an answer, a truthful answer. I breathe out, “Yours.”
Disgust spreads all over his face, taints his voice. He scoffs, I recoil when he says, “Since it’s my money you used, are you allowed to call it a gift?”
The words to defend myself die in my mouth, my breath hitches in my throat. Brandon has been taking care of all our expenses, even placed Pa on a salary since he can’t work. Pa told me all about this on my wedding eve, in addition to being nice to my husband because he is a good man.
Dangling it in front of me, he asks, “Is this still considered a gift?” My heart thumps. “It’s still my money.”
Words have power, I am sure he knows that and his callous self has mastered the act of breaking people with his words. He didn’t have to remind me of where I am coming from, I know why I am here, why we are married. My eyes moisten with unshed tears but I don’t let them fall, neither do I tell him I never wanted anything to do with him in the first place, he is the one who took advantage of Pa’s situation and forced marriage on me. I should be under the covers with my best friend, binge watching animations of her choices. Unmarried and happy.
When I think he is done, he continues, “I hate gifts but I hate jewellery even more.” I nod. “Don’t repeat this mistake.”
Closing my eyes to stop the tears threatening to fall, I murmur, “I’m sorry.”
My eyelids flutter open, I find him staring at me and my heart clenches. This is the man I am expected to spend the rest of my life with. I offer him a shaky smile and motion for him to hand me the jewellery, if he doesn’t want it, I’ll give it out. To someone who understands giving is all about the intentions behind the gift.
He pulls me up instead and says, “Lunch is downstairs.”