Caged Nightingale

36-Atif

I dont know how I keep my hands off her, when I open the door and see her stood in my living room. She is stood infront of the TV flicking through the chanels and barely looks at me when I walk towards her. Something is off. I sense it straight away, in her stance and the way she holds the remote. Insolent.

I keep my own gait relaxed and turn towards the kitchen instead changing direction mid-stride.. I pull a bottle of water from the fridge and close it. a few seconds later I hear Zain walk into the kitchen with a couple of bags of takeout food. He leaves them of the worktop and leaves quietly.

I don't bother calling Saara. Instead I open one of the boxes, then another, . The fragrant smell of spicy chicken tikka and biryani wafts out of the boxes, and I know the aroma will bring her to me.

It does.

Like moth to a flame.

Quietly, She pulls out a stool next to me at the worktop and picks up the fork and plate I've left out for her. She smiles at me as she lifts the serving spoon and begins to load her plate, but it's a painfully polite smile, which I ignore and pretend not to notice- by not acknowledging it. If she senses something is wrong she doesn't show it, instead she continues to eat silently, chewing slowly, giving all her attention to the food, without looking my way.

I continue to eat and then without a word leave my used utensils and plate on the worktop and walk away

When I get up stairs, I see the mess in the dressing room has been cleared as much as possible. Unpacked bags are lined up under the low stool and there are a number of jewellery boxes placed on one of the shelves. one of the bins is full of crushed tissue paper. I move to the bathroom, unsure what to make of the dressing room and strip off before getting into the shower. looks like she's not bothered.

Something's spooked her. She is edgy and skittish. A completely different person from this afternoon. I try not to think about the woman sat at the table down stairs, on her own or the unreasonably elated feeling I got when I saw her- when i arrived home.

God only knows how women think. If she's pissed and I know the signs enough to know she's preping for a fight, then she will need time to calm the fuck down. I am no mood for any argument. There is only this uncompromising need and hunger to take her. This desire is without finnese or compromise. It wants to be satisfied. Its been simmering away ever since this afternoon and has been stretched to breaking point. Some distance might help diminish it a little. God knows what will happen if she tries to fuck with me now.
The darkness is clawing to get out.

I begin to soap myself down when I hear her enter the bathroom, her bare feet slap on the tiles softly. I turn to see her lounging languidly against the sink, eating a peach. She holds it up to her mouth and takes a bite slowly. The fruit seems to burst in her mouth and the amber juice drips down the side of her lips and down her chin. I watch mesmerised as she licks her lips and uses her fingertips to sensually wipe away the juice before sucking on each finger slowly without breaking eye contact with me. She looks so sanguine.

I grin at her and turn away, my heart thumping away in my chest as the adrenaline races through my body. My hard on hurting so much. I hear a knock on the glass door of the shower unit and turn to see her stood on the other side of it, head tilted and hand out to me, the peach dripping its juices around her finger and over the edge of her palms. she's offering it to me.

Fuck. It would almost be funny if my erection didnt feel like it was about to burst. i slide the door open and she extends the hand holding the juicy peach into the shower unit, up to me.

She gasps as I grab her around the throat and pull her into the shower unit as if she is nothing but a rag doll, looking down into her eyes. I want her to see the caged beast she is about to unleash. I want to see a flash of fear there, as she realises I understand the games she is trying to play with me.

But instead there is only challenge in her eyes and if anything; a flash of hunger that mirrors my own. The water cascades over her hair and shoulders turning her clothes transparent and I swear to god, wet, she looks fucking amazing. Like some sort of goddess. She glares into my eyes, chin up, shoulders back. Her nipples appear through the fabric and even without me touching them, I can see they are puckered.

With my hand still around her neck, I slowly walk her backwards till she hits the wall and i tighten my grip on her throat ever so slightly, knowing I'm choking her a little, tilting her head further back, wanting her to understand the power i have over her and more importantly i have over myself, in this moment.

'what do you want?' I ask her, leaning down until my face is a few centimetres from her. Purposefully keeping my expression hard, jaw muscles clenched and eyes as ruthlessly cruel as possible. Even the tone of the words is acerbic and cutting. Perhaps i want to scare her, show her the bastard i can be.

She closes her eyes and whispers 'I want to loose myself in you.'