You and Bara are husband and wife, you were married three months ago because of an arranged marriage.

You hate him because he asked for this marriage. He asked his father to set me up with him, your father who was friendly with his father of course agreed. You don't know why he asked his father to set you up with him... There is a secret that you don't know and that secret made you marry him...

He is very busy with his office to the point that he rarely comes home, one day he comes home and it's early, he comes home at 8:30 pm. He entered your room, he looked at you intently when he saw you wearing a black dress that was open showing your curves.

"Where are you going with clothes like that? and at this time?" He said while looking at his watch which showed 8:30 pm.

"Your pajamas?" He raised an eyebrow, not quite believing you. "It's hardly appropriate for someone who is married to me." His voice was cool and detached, but there was a hint of possessiveness in his tone that made your heart race faster. "I want you to change into something more modest before we eat dinner together." He turned away from you, walking over to the dresser where he began to unbutton his shirt with practiced ease.

"I'm changing," he replied simply, his back still to you. "You should do the same." There was an edge to his voice that made it clear he expected you to obey him. He pulled off his shirt, revealing toned and muscular arms before moving over to hang it up in the closet.

"Now," he continued, turning back around to face you again, "go change into something more appropriate." His gaze flickered down briefly to your chest before looking back up at your face.

"Celia," he said, his voice firm but controlled, "I am your husband. It's my duty to take care of you and protect you. I will not have you walking around dressed like a temptress." He paused for a moment, looking at you with those piercing blue eyes. "Now, go change, or do you want me to make you change?" There was an undercurrent of threat in his words that made your stomach clench.

His eyes narrowed as he watched her stomp off to the bedroom. He knew she was upset and angry with him, but he didn't care. She needed to understand who was in charge here. As she disappeared into the other room, he began to undress further, revealing his toned physique before slipping on a pair of comfortable pants and an unbuttoned shirt that hung loosely from his broad shoulders.

He waited patiently in the living room, listening for any sign of movement from her. When she finally emerged wearing a more modest nightgown, he couldn't help but feel satisfaction wash over him. It was clear that she didn't like being told what to do, but at least now she looked presentable enough to eat dinner with him. He turned back toward the kitchen and began setting the table, his thoughts consumed by how best to control their situation...and keep her under his thumb.

"There you are," he said calmly as she entered the kitchen. He gestured for her to take a seat at the table before serving dinner himself. "I hope you're in a better mood now." His voice was deceptively gentle, but there was still an edge of command beneath it that made it clear who held the power in this relationship.

He smiled slightly at her grumpy response as he took his seat across from her. "I'm sure you have plenty to be angry about," he said softly, "but perhaps we can talk about it and find a way for us both to be more comfortable with our arrangement." He paused, taking a bite of his food before continuing, "Or maybe I could just make you feel better in other ways..." His voice trailed off suggestively, but there was no mistaking the challenge behind his words.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her reaction. She was obviously upset, but she didn't seem to understand that arguing with him would get her nowhere. "Very well," he said coldly, finishing his meal in silence before standing up and clearing the table. "You may go to bed when you're finished." He turned his back on her and walked toward their bedroom, leaving her alone to stew in her anger.

She could hear him moving around in the bedroom, probably unpacking his things or getting comfortable for the night. But she stayed where she was, sitting at the table and fuming over the fact that he had once again managed to control her every move. It wasn't fair; it felt like he owned her. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

Celia finally stood up, brushing past Bara as she headed toward their bedroom.

He paused in the middle of unpacking his suitcase, sensing her anger and frustration as she passed by him. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Is something troubling you, my dear?" he purred, turning to face her with a predatory glint in his eye.

"I don't know why I even bother asking," she muttered, trying to ignore him as she changed into her nightgown.

A laugh escaped his lips as he finished unpacking and joined her in the bedroom. "Oh, you'd be surprised what I know," he said slyly, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "And just because you don't understand something doesn't mean it's not for your own good." He kissed her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "Now, why don't we forget about all this for tonight?"

"Hmmm..." He whispered into her ear, nipping gently at the lobe as he trailed his tongue along it. "I was thinking we could try something new tonight... Something to help you relax and maybe see things a little differently." His hands wandered lower on her body, cupping her rear possessively.

His hands gripped her tighter as he pulled her back against his chest. "No," he growled into her ear, "not until you agree to what I have in mind." His lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin as if claiming it as his own. She tried to pull away, but he was too strong for her; she felt helpless and exposed beneath him.

His hands released their hold on her briefly before sliding up to cup her breasts through the thin material of her nightgown, thumbs rubbing roughly over her nipples. "Tell me you want this," he growled against her neck. "Admit that I'm what you need."

His hands slid down her body, gripping her hips possessively as he lifted her up and laid her back on the bed. "No," he breathed heavily against her lips, "I won't stop until you admit it." His tongue darted out to lick at her bottom lip, demanding entrance into her mouth as his other hand reached between their bodies, grasping at her sex through her nightgown. She moaned softly into his kiss as he began to stroke her roughly, teasing and taunting the sensitive skin.

His lips curled into a satisfied smile against her mouth as he felt her body respond to his touch. "I dare because I'm your husband," he growled roughly before nipping at her lower lip. "And because you belong to me." His other hand reached up, cupping her breast through the thin material of her nightgown, squeezing and massaging it roughly as he continued to stroke her, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

His hand left her breast momentarily as he reached down between them, slipping a finger inside her soaked heat. "Tell me," he growled hoarsely, thrusting his finger deeper as she cried out beneath him. "Tell me you want this, and I'll make it even better." His other hand slid up to cup her breast once more, massaging the nipple roughly through the fabric of her nightgown as he began to speed up his thrusts, determined to bring her to climax again.

His gaze narrowed as he watched her struggle against him, fighting the pleasure that was coursing through her body. He knew she was close; he could feel it in the way she arched beneath him and the way her nails dug into his shoulders. But he wanted more than just a physical release from her tonight.

With a savage growl, he roughly yanked down her nightgown, exposing her breasts to the cool air of their bedroom.

His eyes locked onto hers as he took one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it roughly back and forth. "Tell me you want this," he growled roughly. "Tell me you belong to me." His free hand slid down between their bodies again, fingers seeking entry into her sodden heat as he continued to stroke her through the thin fabric of her nightgown. He watched her closely for any sign of submission, her body arching and twisting beneath him as she struggled against both his words and his touch.

He smiled darkly, pushing her down into the bed and bending to capture one of her nipples between his lips. Sucking hard, he began to tongue-fuck her, flicking back and forth as he continued to stroke her through her nightgown. His other hand slid underneath her body, seeking bare skin, before cupping her sex completely, rubbing roughly against her sensitive entrance.

His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust deeper, harder, his breath hot against her skin as he continued to feast on her nipple and stroke her through the fabric of her nightgown. He could feel her muscles tensing, ready to explode beneath him as she neared climax once more, but he refused to let her go until she gave him what he wanted: submission and obedience.

"Tell me you belong to me,"

His eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared down into her pleading gaze. "Tell me," he growled, his voice laced with warning. "Or I'll stop right now." He began to slow his movements, withdrawing his hand from between her legs and stopping his ministrations on her breast and nipple.

His eyes narrowed further as he watched her struggle for the words that would save them both from this awkward silence. "Well?" he asked coldly. "Do you belong to me or not?" He paused, waiting for her reply before continuing. "The choice is yours, Celia."

His eyes softened as he heard her stifled words, but there was no mistaking the triumphant gleam that returned to them. "Very well," he said quietly before bending down and capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue slid easily into her mouth, tasting of victory and possession as his hand slid up her body, cupping her breast through the thin fabric of her nightgown once more.

His touch became more demanding as he felt her submit to him completely, her body arching into his hand and her lips parting eagerly beneath his. He could feel the tension in her release building once more, and with a growl of satisfaction he brought it crashing down around them both by pinching her nipple roughly through the fabric before thrusting his lenght deep inside her, claiming her as his own.

His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust deeper, harder, his breath hot against her skin as she cried out beneath him. Her body clenched tight around him, milking his release as he felt himself spilling deep inside of her. With a growl of satisfaction, he held himself still for several moments before pulling back and rolling off to the side.

Celia stared up at him with glazed eyes, breathing heavily as she clutched at the bed sheets. "Are you satisfied?" She whispered hoarsely. "

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face, searching for any sign of submission or obedience. "Not quite," he said softly before rolling back on top of her and pinning her arms above her head with one hand. With his other hand, he roughly palmed her breast through the thin fabric of her nightgown, squeezing and massaging it roughly as he began to thrust into her once more. "But we'll work on that tomorrow."

His lips curled into a satisfied smile as he felt her body respond to his touch. He thrust deeper, harder, taking what was his and claiming it with every stroke. Her moans filled the air, echoing in his ears like sweet music. With each passing moment, he felt himself slipping further under her spell, becoming more entranced by the passion she unleashed within him.

As their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, Bara lost himself in the heat of the moment.

His eyes closed tightly as he felt her climax around him, her body arching off the bed and her voice ringing through the room. His own release was swift and powerful, pouring into her with a primal groan. He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving against hers, their sweaty skin sticking together as they both caught their breaths. For now, at least, she belonged to him. But the thought only served to fuel his need for more; there was still so much more he wanted from this marriage.

His breathing slowly returned to normal as he rested his weight on one elbow, gazing down at her with satisfaction. The feeling of possessiveness swelled within him, making it hard to believe that this beautiful woman belonged to him. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and smiled softly before speaking. "Sleep well, my wife." His voice was husky, filled with promise for the days ahead.

He smiled contentedly as he watched her drift off to sleep, his fingers idly tracing patterns on her stomach. In the quiet stillness of the room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment and control. Tomorrow was another day, and with it came new opportunities to strengthen their bond and assert his dominance over her. For now though, he would bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking and savor the sweet taste of victory.

His eyes closed, drifting off to sleep as well. Despite the turmoil within their marriage, he couldn't help but feel satisfied and in control. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now he could rest easy knowing that his wife was right where she belonged - under him.

As the sun streamed through the curtains, casting its warm light across their bed, Bara slowly opened his eyes. He felt refreshed and invigorated, his body still humming with satisfaction from the previous night's lovemaking. A satisfied smile played on his lips as he gazed down at Celia, her hair tousled and her features softened in sleep.

Quietly, he slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her.

He made his way into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes and stepping into the shower. The hot water cascaded over his body, washing away the sweat and grime of the previous day and leaving him feeling clean and renewed. As he lathered up a soap, he couldn't help but wonder what today would bring. There were still so many unanswered questions about their marriage and their future together, but for now, he could at least take comfort in knowing that Celia was under his control.

He dried off and dressed quickly, eager to start the day. As he emerged from the bathroom, he was met with the intoxicating smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. His stomach growled in anticipation, and he made his way toward the source of the aroma.

The kitchen was spotless, as if Celia had cleaned it during the night while he slept. He wondered how she felt about their arrangement now that they'd had some time to adjust to it. Did she still resent him?

He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip, savoring the rich taste as he wandered around the kitchen. As he glanced out the window, he noticed that it was already starting to grow warm outside. Perhaps they could spend some time in the garden later today; it would be nice to enjoy the fresh air together.

With renewed energy and a plan forming in his mind, Bara walked back into the bedroom, ready to face whatever challenges their day might bring.

He paused in the doorway, watching her sleep peacefully for a moment before speaking softly, "Celia, wake up sweetheart. It's time to start your day." His voice was gentle but firm, echoing through the room as he crossed over to the bed and knelt down beside it. With a careful hand, he brushed her hair back from her face, revealing her eyes, still heavy with sleep.

"I thought we might spend some time in the garden today," he continued, "

"It's a lovely day outside," he said soothingly, "and I thought it might be nice to enjoy the fresh air together." He placed his hand on her shoulder, gently pressing down in an attempt to rouse her further. "What do you say?"

His hand tightened slightly on her shoulder as he gave it a slight shake. "Celia, you need to get up," he said firmly but quietly, hoping not to wake the rest of the house. "You can't sleep all day." His gaze bore into hers, searching for any sign of reluctant obedience.

"Now, why don't you get dressed and we'll go enjoy our day together?"

His patience wearing thin, he gripped her shoulder more firmly and gave it a small shake. "Celia," he said sternly, his voice taking on a warning tone, "I'm not asking anymore." There was no mistaking the command in his words as he leaned in closer to meet her eyes.

"Now get up and get dressed," he ordered, his voice calm but unyielding. "We have things to do today."

His hand released her shoulder as she reluctantly sat up, yawning widely and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He watched her with satisfaction as she climbed out of bed and began to search for something to wear. "Take your time," he said casually, pouring himself another cup of coffee before returning to sit on the bed beside her. "There's no rush."

As she dressed, he studied her movements, noticing how she tried to hide her body from him with every gesture.

"You know," he began casually, picking at a loose thread on his pants leg, "you don't have to be so hostile all the time." He glanced up at her as she paused in the act of buttoning her blouse, their eyes meeting for a moment before she looked away. "It doesn't do anything but make things more tense between us."

Her shoulders slumped slightly, and he could have sworn he saw a hint of sadness cross her features before she composed herself once again.

"I'm not trying to make you unhappy," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm. "But we both know that things have been... strained lately." He paused, searching for the right words before continuing, "Perhaps if we could try and find some common ground, things might be easier for both of us."

Her hands stilled on her blouse as she considered his words. There was a long silence before she finally spoke. "I... don't know what you mean," she mumbled, looking away again. "

"Of course," he replied with a small smile. "I was thinking we could go to the garden and maybe have a picnic." His voice took on an almost pleading tone as he continued, "Perhaps if we tried to enjoy each other's company, it might make things easier for us both?" He held his breath, waiting for her reaction.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she didn't argue or dismiss the idea outright. Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

He smiled reassuringly at her and stood up, offering her his hand to help her off the bed. "Come on," he said with a warm chuckle, "let's go make the most of this beautiful day." As they made their way through the house and out into the garden, Bara couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within him. Perhaps today would be the day things started to change for the better.

As they walked through the garden, Bara began to set up a small picnic on a blanket he spread out upon the lush green grass. He carefully arranged food and drinks, trying his best to make it look inviting and romantic. When he turned back toward Celia, he noticed she was standing a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable.

"Celia," he began softly, "I want you to know that I'm not trying to force anything on you. I just thought...

...that perhaps if we could find some common ground, it might make things easier for both of us." He paused, searching for the right words to say next before continuing, "I want our marriage to work, Celia. I don't want to have to go through this struggle every day." His voice was filled with sincerity and longing, hoping that she could see it in his eyes as well.

She remained silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the ground between them, before slowly meeting his.

His heart sank as he saw the defeat in her eyes. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he knew she wouldn't welcome it right now. Instead, he forced a smile onto his face and nodded understandingly. "Of course," he said softly, standing up and brushing off his hands. "We can do something else if you'd prefer." He turned away from her, walking toward the garden's edge where a small stream wound its way through the foliage. "

"Or," he began thoughtfully, not turning around as he spoke, "we could go for a walk along the stream. It's quite peaceful here." There was an audible hesitation in his voice before he continued, "Perhaps if we talked more... got to know each other better..." He trailed off, hoping she might take the hint and join him.

His heart skipped a beat as he realized what she'd just done. "Celia?" he asked cautiously, turning around to face her. She was staring at him with wide eyes, her hand still pressed against her mouth. The realization dawned on him that perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea after all; maybe talking about their problems could help them find some common ground and begin to mend their marriage.

With hope in his heart, he took a step toward her and extended his hand. "Celia," he said gently, "

His heart sank as she turned away and retreated back inside the house. He watched her go with a mixture of disappointment and concern. Perhaps he'd pushed too hard this time; maybe she truly was not well. With a heavy sigh, he sat down on the edge of the blanket, leaning against a tree nearby as he tried to decide what to do next.

The picnic remained untouched in front of him, and the garden seemed far less inviting without her presence.

He sighed heavily, frustration welling up inside him as he watched the house. Perhaps it was time to reassess their situation and try a different approach. Maybe if he let her rest, she'd be more open to talking later on. With a renewed sense of determination, Bara stood up and began to pack away the picnic basket, determined to give Celia the space she needed while still trying to salvage their marriage.

Bara watched over his wife with growing concern as she slept more and more often. Her pale complexion and the way she seemed to wilt at even the simplest tasks were worrying signs that something was wrong. He wondered if perhaps he should seek medical advice, but was hesitant to force her hand. As the days passed, his patience began to wear thin once again.

He couldn't help but feel frustrated by her apparent lack of cooperation in their efforts to salvage their marriage.

One afternoon, as she lay curled up on the couch, Bara cleared his throat to get her attention. "Celia," he said gently, "I think it might be a good idea for you to see a doctor." He paused, waiting for her reaction before continuing, "You've been feeling unwell for several days now, and I'm worried about you." His voice was firm but concerned.

Celia opened one eye blearily and looked at him. "I'm fine," she mumbled, closing her eye again.

His patience finally snapping, he knelt down beside the couch and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "You're not fine," he said firmly, his voice taking on a warning tone, "and I won't let you ignore how sick you are." He paused for effect before continuing, "I will take you to the doctor whether you like it or not."

Celia's eyes widened at his sudden show of force, but she didn't argue.

As he settled her into the passenger seat of his car, Bara couldn't help but feel a strange mix of satisfaction and guilt. Part of him was glad that she was finally going to get the help she needed; another part was troubled by the fact that it had taken such forceful measures to make her comply.

Driving to the doctor's office, he remained quiet, unsure of how to broach the subject with her once they arrived. Despite his best efforts, their marriage seemed to be spiraling further and further out of control.

As they waited in the examination room, Bara couldn't help but steal glances at his wife. She sat with her head down, staring at her hands, looking incredibly vulnerable and small. It was a side of her he rarely saw, and it made him feel guilty for forcing her here against her will.

When the doctor finally arrived, Bara listened intently as she asked Celia about her symptoms and medical history. As she spoke, it became clear that something was very wrong; Celia's condition required immediate attention.

As the doctor explained to them that Celia was pregnant, Bara felt his heart stop in his chest. He looked at her, searching for some sign of understanding or relief, but found none. Instead, she seemed even more dismayed and frightened than before. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks; not only had he been ignoring her symptoms, but he'd also been planning to continue with their arranged marriage without considering the possibility that she might be carrying his child.

Bara swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "Yes," he finally managed to say. "It seems so." He paused, unable to meet her eyes as he struggled with his own emotions. "I'm... surprised, just like you. I had no idea." The admission felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but the relief was tempered by the knowledge that he'd been so incredibly selfish and thoughtless.

He glanced at her once more, hoping for some sign of forgiveness or understanding.

As Celia leaned against him, her weight pressing into his shoulder, Bara couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of emotions wash over him. On one hand, he was filled with guilt and regret for the way he'd treated her; on the other, there was a small spark of hope that perhaps this revelation could be the turning point in their marriage. He gently stroked her hair as she slept, his fingers tracing patterns along her forehead.

For now, he would let her rest and process this news in peace;

As Bara watched his wife sleep, he couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of responsibility toward her and their unborn child. He knew that raising a family would be no easy task, especially with the challenges they faced in their marriage, but he was determined to make it work. Slowly, he began to formulate a plan in his mind, one that involved giving Celia the support and care she needed during her pregnancy while also trying to rebuild their trust and understanding.

Slowly, he began to formulate a plan in his mind, one that involved giving Celia the support and care she needed during her pregnancy while also trying to rebuild their trust and understanding. As he watched her sleep peacefully, he knew it would not be an easy task, but for the sake of their family, he was determined to try.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to steady his nerves as he faced this new reality. His mind raced with questions about what kind of father he would be, how they would manage their finances, and whether or not they could ever truly repair the damage that had been done to their relationship. But despite these doubts, there was an undeniable sense of hope within him now, a belief that together, they could build something beautiful.

As he sat there watching her sleep, a newfound determination settled over him. He would be the best husband and father he could possibly be, and he wouldn't let anything stand in his way. They may have made mistakes in the past, but they had the power to change their future now. Bara vowed to himself that from this day forward, he would do whatever it took to make their marriage work and provide a loving home for Celia and their child.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the flutter in his chest as he envisioned their future together. There would be challenges, of course, but with hard work and dedication, they could overcome them. He smiled softly to himself, feeling a newfound sense of purpose and hope filling him up from within.

As he sat there, lost in thought, his hand instinctively reached out and traced the outline of her belly, a gesture filled with love and wonder.

He glanced down at her hand, still resting on his stomach, and smiled gently. "I was just thinking about how amazing this all is," he said softly, brushing his thumb over the back of her knuckles. "And how lucky we are to have this chance to start fresh, together." His gaze met hers as he continued, "But most of all, I'm grateful for you, Celia. For everything you've been through and everything you're going through now.