A yawn escapes me, I blink to clear the rest of the sleep in my eyes with the back of my hand going over my mouth to prevent another yawn from slipping out. I swipe at the errant strand of hair over my face, putting my messy curls into a bun with a few tendrils falling out as I move into a sitting position to observe my environs. This is a new place.
The lighting of the place is off, the room is smaller and the walls are strange. They are brown. This is not home. Home. The word leaves a sour taste in my mouth and I jump off the bed at the fear that sweeps through me. I may dislike that big, empty house but at least, I am safe there. No harm will befall me other than sexual starvation.
"You cheated on me."
Hearing that thick accent causes me to tumble back to the bed and I let out a sigh of relief with a hand over my chest when I trace the voice to my unsmiling husband.
Brandon is seated on a plush single sofa in front of the bed with his legs crossed at the knee like a godfather who is about to unleash hell on a rival gang, unimpressed by my clumsiness and I sneer at him. He looks ruggedly handsome without making efforts.
A near-empty flute of clear wine is perched between his fingers, he takes a sip from it before his gaze comes to rest on me and the events of today come rushing back.
Sophia. She touched me. I touched her too. And I enjoyed it, not as much as his touch but close enough. Do I like women now? No. But if it's only a woman who will touch me, then I will take what I can get until I can find a man who will take care of this barrier called virginity. My eyes lower to Brandon's long, white feet, where do we stand now?
Now that I am well rested and my head is clear, I am not sure I can go through with my threat of asking Brandon for a divorce. I only said it in the heat of the moment. He's a powerful man, influential too, it will be a quick battle that will not end in my favour. Plus, I also cheated and that makes us even but I hope he doesn’t make a habit of it.
For mine and my family's sake, I have to stay married to him. I will be on the losing end if I leave, our prenuptial agreements have already made sure of that. I get nothing of his and I have nothing to my name except a tiny, rented apartment I share with Clarissa, then scholarships that have kept me in school up until this moment. We are dirt broke.
"You cheated on me, Elna Amahle Stark."
His mention of my full names doesn't go unnoticed by me, I love how my new last name sounds coming from him but I don't dwell on it. No shame to my parent’s name but this one sounds better, I love it and will bear it with pride. I chuckle at the silly thought, the smile on my lips dying when I meet Brandon steely gaze and I straighten up.
On cue, I say, "You cheated first." My chin raises in defiance as if expecting him to deny it. He doesn't speak, instead, he takes one look out the window. We are still flying.
The knowledge makes me sick, my head begins to pound, a wave of dizziness hits me and my stomach knots. I don't enjoy flying or any form of travel. "How long until we land?"
Brandon empties the content of the glass cup into his mouth, dumps the flute on the floor and begins to flip through papers in the small folder on his laps. His lips pull into a straight line as his eyes scan line after line until his fingers stop at a certain page.
Clutching the hem of my robe, I move to sit on the edge of the bed. "What are those?"
"Divorce papers, they need your signature."
My heart stops racing for a moment, I look up to his face, he's dead serious. My eyes lower to his unbuttoned shirt, the hairs scattered all over his chest and his tiny pink nipples. His abs are hard, inviting, my fingers itch to touch them and I realise it’s the first time I am seeing his body. I blink and shake my head; I can't sign that document.
"Brandon..." I trail off, "you don't mean it." My heart quickens at his grave expression and I start spouting unwanted details, "We only touched each other, it's not cheating."
"I'll not have a wife who touches people in our matrimonial bed. I'll not have that form of disrespect in my home," Brandon says.
The way his eyes zero in on me by the time he's done talking has my hands falling from my robes and onto to my laps. He's serving me divorce papers? I can't sign it. My family needs his money; they depend on it to survive. I suck my lip and shake my head again. I can’t sign those. I will do anything he wants but that, our marriage is barely a week old.
I should have thought of my parents first before doing what I did but I was too carried away, I have never been touched by a female. Brandon is the first man to finger me and if he had done what I asked, made love or even fucked me senseless, I would not have lost my wits around Sophia. She is pretty, bold, a woman who knows what she wants.
"Sign the papers, Elna," he says in a bored tone like he's reading the news headlines.
"No, I won't. You left me no choice," I say with my voice going a few octaves higher. I pull my robe around myself, feeling smaller under Brandon's stare. "You caused it."
Brandon uncrosses his leg and sits up with his eyes narrowed. "I bring my sick wife a doctor and the moment I leave you two alone, you get all touchy with each other in the name of this bullshit of an excuse!"
"You never brought her for me," I shout and stand, pointing a finger at him. "I saw you two together," I close my eyes briefly to let the images pass, "all cosy and touchy with each other." I straighten up and smile. "So, I did what I had to, I took my only chance."
"Bullshit. That's a whore's excuse," he growls out and my palm connects with his cheek the moment that word leaves his lips.
Brandon's head swings to one side at the impact of the slap, my hand goes to cover my mouth and his jaw tenses. I just slapped my husband. I slapped Brandon. My heart quickens and I bite the inside of my lips.
"I... I... Brandon. I didn't mean to."
When his cold, amber eyes return to mine, his face is blank and a chill creeps up my spine. "What you saw was Sophia forcing herself on me. Now, sign the papers, Elna."
The papers in question come flying at me, I take steps backwards until my legs hit the bed and shake my head. My eyes sting as I try to replay the events in my head in slow motion. I saw them together; she was naked except for that sorry excuse of a pantie.
She touched him. I sigh. He never touched her. I shake my head again. He did; when he grabbed her wrists. But to save her from my flying shoes. My shoulder sags. The cheating spouse is not Brandon, it's me.
"Please," I say and lift my eyes to his. "I can't sign it; my family needs me to stay married. Please. I will do anything you want me to."
His gaze on me forces my eyes to return to my fingers on my lap. "Why did you do it?""Because..." A sigh leaves my lips and I start all over. "I know you won't touch me and when she offered, I could not say no, my body wanted it. I need to feel like a woman."
Once the door of the private jet slides open, I am blessed with a view of the limousine waiting for us. The chauffeur in black suit is standing by the side, a hand on the door handle, ready to open up. I chuckle at the sight, I have never had a chauffeur, I don't even have a car and I can't help but think about how much my
No words leave my lips after that and he seems to find it okay. We step into the building and I see it's a hotel, a big, fancy hotel with no one in the corridor except for the pretty receptionist. Her face lights up in a smile as she walks over to hand Brandon a key card without a word spoken to me or an acknowledgement of my presence.
Silence descends over us, the tension in the room is thick, each passing second leaves me feeling dumber for voicing out such an awkward request. What do I know about sex, let alone being a submissive? My eyes raise to meet Brandon's, my lips part open to tell him to forget anything I said but he cuts me off with a soft glare and a sigh."Sex in my world is different," he finally says. He runs his fingers through his hair, letting some of the brown locks fall over his forehead. I palm his cheek, the pad of my thumb caresses his prominent cheekbone."You can teach me; you can show me how."Brandon's hand comes to the small of my back, my legs tangle in the sheet when I try to change position to straddle
We stare at each other for a bit before I pull my shirt over my head. My breasts point at him, my nipples stand at attention but I make no move to touch him, neither does he try to touch me. I bite my lips and wait. Whatever happens next is up to him, he's the teacher and I am the willing student.
"You quit what?" Brandon asks in a voice that is so low I am surprised I can hear him. I wrap my arms around myself, shiver and sink my teeth into my lips as the distance between us disappears. "Quit what, El?""Being your sub," I reply without meeting his gaze, afraid to see the disappointment swimming in them. "I'm sorry, I can't do it."Water from my hair streams down my back and I shiver again. I make sure to keep my eyes on the floor; I don't want to see that part of him that's responsible for this embarrassing situation. I tried, I did try to swallow but I could not. This is not a movie where the female lead swallows the man's cum like it is her f
Giggles spill from my lips at the distress in his voice, my eyes shut and I pull the duvet over my head. He owes me an apology, after that, I might let him in on the location of the pillows, maybe give him the beddings and join him on the bed. A tug on the material causes me to pull it down and my lips move into a scowl when I see Brandon standing by the side with a similar scowl on his face.He says, "I need the pillows and bedsheet.""Say sorry, apologise first," I reply.His nostrils flare and he crosses his arms over his chest. The muscle of his biceps ripple, I am tempted to touch them, see if they are as firm as they look. Light brown hairs are scattered all over his chest haphazardly, trailing a line down to his stomach where they disappear into the
"Elna!" I jump in fright at the sound of the voice, eyes wide open and lips pulled into a frown as I turn around to face whoever thinks it fun to shout out my name on a warm, beautiful evening. "Get away from there.""Goddamit Brandon, lower your voice," I scream back at him and push away from the railing. "You are screaming like a crazy banshee whose wife left him a day after their wedding and now his life is a mess."What am I even saying? I offer Brandon a sheepish smile, thankful to see that he finds my statement funny. "Sorry," I murmur. This is what I become when my best friend is upset with me, a swearing mess.
"You promised," he whispers. He lets go of me to run his hands through his hair. "You promised me, Elna. Your beginning, middle and end." Jumping to his feet, he folds his hands behind his head and murmurs, "You promised. You can't leave me. Baby, please."Unable to look him in the eyes, I bury my face into the pillow and continue shaking my head. I know the answer to his question now, I am so certain of it. Do I still want him? Yes, I will always want him, more than I have ever wanted anyone but I can't have him.Murder is murder and he killed his brother.And it hurts.It hurts every fibre of my being. I love him so much it hurts to think of a future without him. I don't think I can stop loving him but when I look at him, all I see is a killer. If I cannot look past his sins then I shouldn't be in his life. It will be our secret, it's not in my place to tell other people and I am fine with that. I wi
It is hard.Really hard.
He doesn't regret it. But he feels bad. What does that mean? I race down the stairs as fast as I can, my car keys dangling in my hand. Hopefully, I look sane with the way I hurriedly dressed and left. I need to talk to Clarissa but about what? Do I want to tell her what Brandon said? What if she calls the police on him? Will she do that? She won't.
I wake to amber eyes staring down at me. I flash Brandon a sleepy smile, he presses a kiss to my hair and I giggle, he must love my new shampoo. "You slept well?" I ask.He nods, placing another kiss on my temple. "I did, you?" he says against my skin and I hum in response, loving the wet kisses he litters on
The next day, my phone is pinging with notifications. David shoots me a grateful text I don't reply, I am sure he doesn't expect one, we are not friends. My finger hovers over the delete option on his contact, I hesitate. It won’t hurt to have it so I save his number, something I had failed to do. Bored, I send Brandon an SOS and switch off my phone.Time to take matters into my hands.Bathed, shaved and clad in lace lingerie that barely holds my breasts and reveals my bump, I sit up, legs crossed while awaiting that click that will announce his entrance. He won't talk to me like a normal person and now, I am pissed. And horny. And frustrated.The click to signify his presence sounds, reverberating in the room. I shoot up from the bed as fast as a pregnant woman approaching her third semester can and saunter to the door, swinging my hips. Brandon eyes me from head to toe, the appreciative glint in his gaze is missing but I shrug tha
Curiosity kills the cat. Satisfaction brings it back. It has to. That is the reason I am in this café, waiting for David after I made the spontaneous decision to see him. I pull my oversized tracksuit over my belly, trying and failing to blend in with the scanty crowd.A wave of nostalgia hits me when someone passes with a tray of fish and chips. I need to call Clarissa. I don't understand how we let life, thesis and coursework pull us apart but we need to meet. Sending her a short text, I roll my lip between my teeth while awaiting her reply. If she replies before David comes, I will cancel our meeting. She comes first.I shouldn't be here.That seems to have become my new mantra and each time, things turn out better than I expect. I hope it's the case today. Taking a swig from the water bottle on the table while I wait for the first person to show up, I try to push the nagging thoughts out of my head.
Seconds of silence pass, when Josh doesn't seem to be leaving, I ask, "Who is Brendan?""Our brother, Brandon's twin." I blink, my head spins from the sudden information and my thoughts crash to a stop when he adds, "He is dead." Josh's smile is pitiful, I don't know when I move to stand beside him. I pat his shoulder. "He died in an accident."Brandon has a twin, a dead twin. It's all I can think while my hand meets Josh's shoulder in an awkward show of comfort. He pries my hand off him with a smile I don't comment on because of how fake it is. I rub my hand against my hip. Brandon has a dead twin.Seeing how shaken I am by the news, Josh pushes me into his seat, I sink gratefully into it. I shouldn't have asked. My husband should have told me himself. "When did he die?""A while ago."I snap. "How long is a while ago?""Five years," he rep
Josh catches up to me before I reach the house, he offers me a smile, I shrug. None of this is his fault. We take a seat by the kitchen window, staring at the trio seated inside the gazebo. From our position here, we can't see their lips moving but I can't help wishing they will start a conversation. Talk to each other even if it ends in a screaming bout."Do you think they will reconcile?"Josh snickers. He hops to the fridge like he pays rent and returns with a huge chunk of cake. The leftover I had saved to munch on later because I can't resist anything sugary and his family didn't let me enjoy it. Fleeting anger surges through me, I close my eyes."Nope. Not a chance," he says. I turn to see him dragging another stool close to me.The poise and gracefulness he was forced to adapt when we were outside vanish when he gobbles the cake. I smile foolishly, this is the Josh I know. Slapping his knee, I mot
The gazebo is deathly quiet and the tension promises to suffocate us. Everything is going well, if you count the curt greetings from Brandon's snobbish parents. Queen Elizabeth doesn't hold a candle to Brandon's mother with her prim and proper manners, wrinkles and white hair cropped short. All she needs is a crown and I'll genuflect before her.Brandon's dad is an older beardless version of him with thinning hair. He is so quiet, the kind of quiet that allows his haughty wife freedom to speak to people as she pleases. A minute after exchanging greetings and I can already tell it was a bad idea to invite them.Seated beside Brandon, muscles tight and frustrated at my lack of release, I drum my fingers on my legs hidden under the table. He didn't have to punish me this way. I am pregnant, he shouldn’t leave me horny. One look at him shows that's the least of his worries.He is as tensed as I am, maybe even more and a wave of gu