Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

The hot water was clear to the bottom, and though the rising steam offered little concealment, it at least allowed Vivian to relax somewhat. Alajos noticed Vivian’s cautiousness but said nothing; only after she was fully immersed in the water did he hand her the second glass of wine for the evening. Vivian knew she couldn’t refuse and accepted it.

Toasting with her, Alajos drank down his wine and then gazed up at the starry sky, appreciating the pleasant weather that made many stars visible. His attention shifted away from Vivian’s nearly bare body, easing her tension. She took a sip of the wine, feeling the alcohol’s warmth embolden her gaze toward Alajos.

She admitted to herself that Alajos was the most handsome man she had ever met, and he was a gentleman-no amount of hot water could hide her exposed skin, nor could it conceal the desire evident beneath Alajos’s underwear. Vivian thought Alajos would be eager to tear her clothes off.

If only he weren’t a Capo, she lamented. Then she could confidently seduce him and pursue a relationship with Alajos, trusting in her own charm.

But such allure was nothing before a Capo with steadfast beliefs.

Vivian lay back comfortably in the tub, the stars in her view growing increasingly blurry. She felt herself falling asleep and must have done so for a good while, as she had surely soaked in the hot bath for a long time. When Alajos’s hand touched her skin, her whole body felt like it was melting.

Alajos?

Vivian awoke with a start to find herself lifted out of the bathtub, cradled by Alajos who was supporting her from beneath. “What are you doing?” she asked, one arm wrapped around his neck for fear of falling, the other hand pressing against his sparsely hairy chest, resisting the intimacy of their skin-to-skin contact. “Put me down first.”

“You fell asleep and nearly drowned,” Alajos teased, carrying her steadily into the larger bathroom and setting her down by the edge of the grand bathtub. Vivian’s kicking and pushing were to no avail, and she was left fuming.

“Then let me drown,” Vivian crossed her arms defiantly.

“That won’t do. A bride drowning on her wedding night would be too terrible a tale,” Alajos joked, reaching to lift the hem of Vivian’s nightgown. “Take off your wet clothes; we need to take another bath.”

“No,” Vivian, realizing his intent, held down his hand. “I can do it myself.”

Alajos frowned, clearly seeing Vivian’s resistance. He could tolerate it momentarily, but she needed to understand that she was now his wife, and any further futile resistance was foolish in his eyes.

“You’ve already refused me many times tonight, Vivian,” Alajos said sternly. “Don’t try to challenge me; you can’t bear the consequences.”

“I… I just…” Vivian swallowed nervously, trying to appear less frightened. “Please… give me time to adapt. Let me go at my own pace, okay?”

Vivian’s eyes were timid, pleading, which softened Alajos momentarily. He said nothing but released the grip on her nightgown and stepped back. He remained in the bathroom, watching as Vivian slowly lifted her nightgown, removing the lace garment to reveal her beautiful, sensual body. Alajos’s breath grew heavy as he watched her nipples stiffen through the process.

Vivian unconsciously squeezed her legs together, hurriedly covering her breasts with her hands as she tossed away the wet garment, embarrassed by Alajos’s scrutinizing gaze, feeling like a beautiful object or a delectable meal.

Alajos considerately prepared the bath with warm water and scattered rose petals in the bubbly tub before lifting Vivian and easing her into the water. She let out a sigh of contentment as the comfortable temperature enveloped her, sliding deeper into the bath, the bubbles obscuring Alajos’s view and giving her a sense of safety.

This feeling of security was short-lived. She soon heard the sound of fabric rustling and turned in shock to see Alajos’s bare back as he removed his underwear, his firm buttocks facing her. As he straightened up to turn around, Vivian quickly averted her gaze.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

Alajos stepped into the tub behind her, disturbing the water with his presence. Vivian moved forward, biting her lip to prevent a protest from escaping as a scream. Alajos’s strong arms encircled her waist and pulled her back against his chest. To maintain balance and to not impulsively knock away his hand that reached for her breast, Vivian had no choice but to rest her hands on his thighs.

The solid muscle of the man did little to ease Vivian’s tension; she stiffened, feelingAlajos’s caresses from her breasts to her abdomen and down to her thighs. She could feel Alajos’s persistent hardness against her lower back, rising slowly to press along the crease of her buttocks. Vivian’s body began to tremble uncontrollably, her hands resting on Alajos’s wrists as he explored between her legs. She didn’t dare to pull away, her voice quivering with a plea, “No…”

Alajos’s movements paused, and for a tense minute, neither moved. Then Alajos withdrew his hand slowly, the crisis averted, and Vivian breathed a sigh of relief.

She then heard the sound of a bottle cap opening behind her, tensing again until the familiar scent of shampoo filled the air. Alajos wet her hair, gently applying shampoo, his massage skilled enough to intoxicate any woman. Vivian couldn’t fathom why such a mundane action as washing hair could create such an intimate atmosphere.

The comfort that flowed from her scalp made her want to prolong the moment, wishing Alajos’s fingers would linger longer in her blond tresses. She took deep breaths, her nails slightly embedding into the flesh of Alajos’s thighs, moaning uncontrollably as she felt a deep yearning, an itch both physical and emotional.

Her body craved him, but her remaining sense told her no. Their marriage was a transaction; he didn’t love her, she didn’t know him, and she couldn’t give herself to him unreservedly, even though he was now her husband.

Alajos laid her flat to rinse her hair, the water cascading from his hands through her locks as she cooperated by closing her eyes, feeling his fingers combing and untangling until her hair was deemed clean enough. He then helped her up, and Vivian exhaled in relief, not resisting as Alajos pulled her back into his arms-her resistance would be futile anyway.