Wedlock

"I want to have sex with you," he said, wrapping his right hand around my waist and looking into my eyes.

"What?" My eyes widened in disbelief as I blurted.

He said it again, his lips quirkily curving into a smug smile: "I want to have sex with you."

My mind raced, trying to believe and accept that he was saying that for real and that it wasn't some bad dream. "But we don't love each other," I protested, my voice barely above a whisper, the fear of the unknown creeping in.

He scoffed, "Who said we had to love each other to have sex?"

"Hawww...I thought you were a gentleman, a good boy," I replied with my palm covering my mouth, which is wide open.

With a nonchalant shrug, he retorted callously, "I never thought wanting to have sex with my wife would turn me into a bad boy."

Panic rose within me, my mind scrambling for words. "But we're not..."

In an instant, he enveloped me in an overpowering hug, the strength of his embrace suffocating me. I recoiled, my heart racing as I struggled to comprehend his sudden shift in demeanour.

"Think about it." He pecked on my cheek. With that, he walked away, leaving me standing there shocked and my thoughts spinning in confusion.