Aryan's Lethal Obsession

Aryan

Adah froze in her place.

"And here I thought of surprising you," I said, walking towards her.

She turned abruptly, face pale as if she had seen a ghost. Her startled demeanor didn't surprise me, nor did her lips parting at seeing me.

"Aryan...." she whispered with a heaving chest and pressed herself to the closet.

"I know I scared you, but I thought you would be happy to see me," I stopped before her, cupping her cheek.

Breathing a shuddering breath, she gaped. Placing my palm beside her head, I dropped my head over her shoulder and nuzzled my face into her neck, welcoming her Lavender scent. It hadn't been 24 hours, and I inhaled her scent like an addict getting his next dose.

"N-No, I thought ... .I..." she mumbled and gasped when I kissed her throat.

"That I'm your imagination? No, temptress, it's me in flesh and blood."

Fisting her hair, I trailed my lips from her throat to her jaw, hovering over her face, "You don't look happy."

"No, I'm surprised," she said in a low voice, eyes flitted around.

"H-how come you here? D-Didn't you say a week?"

"Tareq said you were not feeling well, and looking at you, I'm glad I came early," I replied, which only made her eyes connect with mine.

"M-Means?" she stuttered.

"Hardly a day, and you already missed me to the extent you feel sick," I smiled, caressing her cold cheek.

"Yes," she smiled awkwardly.

"So what's my reward?" I asked, holding her bridal style and carrying her out of the closet.

"What do you want?" she mumbles, tightening her arms around my neck.

"Will you give me anything I asked?" I teased.

"Y-Yes."

"Think again, temptress," I stared into eyes and continued, "You can't go back."

I felt her body tense, and she lowered my eyes, biting her lips. "You have everything. What else can you want?"

"you have something I've wanted since the day I saw you," I whispered, biting her reddened lobe.

"I'm already.... yours," her voice broke when I placed her on the floor.

I caressed her icy skin and replied, "No, you are not. Not yet, at least."

"W-What? I.....we.....slept together..." she stammered.

I turn my back on her, removing my jacket and tossing it on the sofa. Working on my tie, I faced her, looking almost at the verge of crying. I know I hit the nail on the head, but I wasn't in a hurry. I would unravel a new part of my wife and plan to savor it slowly.

"Yes, we have sex, but because I ask for it, Adah. I never saw you taking the initiative and demanding me with the same passion," I sat on the armchair, tilting my head.

Lost in thoughts, she bothered her lower lip again, and I clutched the armrest to stop myself. It was true that it was always me who initiated the sex, but somewhere, I always fantasized about her taking the lead.

After a long contemplation, she whispered, "I....what do you want me to do?"

She fidgets under my intense stare. "Show me you are mine. Not by words but by your actions."

She blinked, and her breathing turned uneven. I know that would be her reaction. We have crossed every line when it comes to sex. I have taken her in the bathroom, on the bed, in my study, during the broad daylight, and almost did it on the dining table. Yet my wife flushes when discussing intimacy that requires her to take the lead.