Page 71 of Corruption
I hesitated for a moment, curiosity gnawing at me. Despite my apprehension, I couldn’t resist asking, “So, what role am I supposed to be playing?”
A dark smile curled on his lips, and I sensed that I might not like his response. He stepped closer, his mouth mere inches from my ear. As he brushed my hair aside, his lips grazed the skin on my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
“My wife,” he whispered.
Chapter 31
-Alison-
My eyes widened, convinced I had not heard him correctly. As I spun to face him directly, he pulled back, a self-satisfied grin still etched across his face. I shook my head in outright denial, but his smile remained unwavering.
“No!”
“Yes,” he countered, his satisfaction evident.
“Why?” I asked.
“Practice.”
“Practice for what?” I questioned, my anger seeping through my voice. I had no intention of playing the role of his wife. It was worse than dressing up in my old school uniform and pretending to be obsessed with him. In fact, it was worse than any of the other scenarios he had subjected me to. I would have willingly worn the skimpy maid outfit over this, for Jared wasn’t just invading my mind. He was encroaching upon a role I had perfected. He was infiltrating every facet of my being by trying to make me his wife. It was simply too close, too much for me, and I vehemently disagreed, but Jared paid no heed to my protests. His fingers danced lightly over my shoulders as he moved past me, an air of superiority surrounding him, knowing full well that I couldn’t defy him.
“Hurry, wife, I’m hungry,” he chuckled.
“Don’t call me that!”
“I can call you whatever I want!”
I wanted to chase after him, to continue the argument, but to what end? He would either bend me over the nearest surface and spank my ass until I relented or hunt me down through the long hallways, ensuring I complied in the end. I was bound by an invisible force, my name on that cursed piece of paper forcing me to yield. So, after taking a deep breath to quell my anger, I walked over to the stew that was simmering. I tasted it, adding a pinch of salt before ladling it into two white bowls and placing the freshly toasted, glistening bread beside them. I grabbed the bowls, returned to the dining room, and, down the hallway, entered to find Jared seated at the head of a long brown table, his back to me. I took another deep breath, reminding myself that “accidentally” spilling the stew all over his pants would only worsen my situation, even though the temptation was undeniable. Embracing my role, I approached Jared, setting the food down before him and the chair beside him. The other set of knife and fork lay there, indicating it was meant for me. As I set my bowl down, I leaned slightly forward, feeling a hand sneak up my thigh. I turned my head to see a playful grin on Jared’s lips as he parted the slit in my dress, attempting to venture further underneath.
“What are you doing, Master?” I questioned.
“Jared,” he corrected this time, surprising me more than his attempt to peek under my dress. He knew I was naked, so why was he doing this?
“Why are you doing this, Jared?” I pressed further, and he smiled as his hand moved up my backside, applying a gentle squeeze.
“Just checking to see if my wife was wearing underwear tonight, or if she chose to tease me.”
I see, I thought. We were already playing our roles. It filled me with determination because if he desired a show, then I would certainly provide one. I never shied away from a challenge, no matter how peculiar this one seemed. I knew he was trying to infiltrate my mind, but this roleplaying was undeniably odd. Did it not bother him to even entertain the thought of being married to me? And what exactly did he mean by “practice”? As Jared’s hand slid down and out from under my dress, I was finally able to take my seat. As I turned to observe him, I couldn’t help but notice the uncharacteristic serenity that had settled over him. It left me feeling bewildered. Shouldn’t he be more on edge, considering he was supposedly married to me for the evening?
“Master—”
“I don’t think that’s what you call your husband unless we are in the bedroom,” he remarked as he began to eat his food.
“Very well, husband,” I responded with a touch of irritation, which seemed to please him. “So, what exactly is this? Are we just having a meal?”
“Isn’t that what a married couple does after a long day of work?” he inquired, his tone suggesting a genuine question.
“Yes. I mean, if they had children, they would probably enjoy a family dinner too, unless it’s date night.”
“Then let’s say it is, and we’ve put the kids to bed.”
His words painted a strange picture, causing my heart to flutter uncomfortably. I coughed, feeling a bit uneasy, before nodding, gaining a better understanding of the scene we were creating.
“Very well. So, how was your day?” I asked, hearing him chuckle, initially appearing confused, but then he grasped the purpose of my question.
“Long. Boring.”
“At least it pays well, or we wouldn’t have this house,” I quipped.
