Two

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“We should bath together,” Brandon says for the third time.

We haven’t had time to do any talking since we got back inside the house. I can tell his temper is hanging by a thread with the way his jaw clenches but it doesn’t stop me from shaking my head in the negative. I feel shy.

I am standing in nothing but a yellow lace bra with matching panties. Ma gifted it to me for my honeymoon night. She claims the colour brings out my beautiful melanin skin in a way no other colour can and I need to look my best for my husband. I cringe. I hope I can get used to saying that word.

My breasts threaten to spill over in this—this barely-there lingerie and I cover my chest with my arms. Brandon is standing naked by the bathroom door, unashamed as he strokes his dick lazily and I avert my eyes.

“I will say this one more time, as long as we are a couple, we will bath together.” There is an edge to his voice that I do not dare disobey and my head bobs up and down of its own accord. This man scares me.

His lips twitch like he is fighting a smile and he leads the way for me to follow behind.

The interior of the bathroom leaves me gaping in awe. It is bigger than my living room, tastefully furnished than his master’s bedroom that looks like a bachelor’s crib. When Brandon settles into the bathtub, I tell myself that the floor to ceiling windows are made with one-way glasses or he simply doesn’t care. I hope it is the former.

“Come.”

I quickly dispose of my underwear, joining him in the large tub. My teeth chatter at the contact of cold water against my skin and he pulls me closer to himself, letting me go when the water becomes warm.

Taking a look at the window that shows our reflection, I catch him staring at me. I turn to face him and my breasts rise above the water. My nipples harden under his gaze and without a thought, I push myself up till we are locked in a passionate kiss.

He breaks away from the kiss first, mutters inaudible words under his breath and reaches for the body wash. I bite my lips to stifle a moan when he runs the loofah over my nipples and sticks a finger into my vagina but it edges him on to add one more finger and another till I’m crying out.

When my eyes finally open, he is staring at me with an arrogant smirk and his hands are no longer inside me. I feel empty and angry at his withdrawal, the need to pay him back pushing me to roughly caress his balls. He doesn’t flinch or act like anyone is touching him and I retract my hand.

We finish bathing without any more drama, both of us keep to ourselves. As soon as we step into the room, I hurry to change into a new set of lingerie which is also all thanks to Ma. She filled my bag with them.

“No. Don’t do that.”

Brandon attempts to grab the lingerie from my hunched frame; when I don’t give it immediately, he sends me a glare which earns him an eye roll from me.

“Stay here,” he commands, leading me by the hand to the foot of the king-size bed.

“You have a beautiful body, you should flaunt it,” he adds when he sees me trying to cover my breast and feminine area.

I’m not one to take orders from people but hearing them from Brandon makes me excited, wet even. When he asks me to lay on the bed with my legs spread open, hands above my head, I willingly oblige him.

He lowers himself to the floor until his face is directly in front of my vagina, blowing air into it. His fingers lightly graze my clit, making me shiver in anticipation of what is to come. He inserts two tiny balls into my wetness, motions for me to stop squirming when the thing begins to vibrate. But I cannot stay still. How can I?

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