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.

He smiled slyly and walked closer to you, his hands caressed the exposed skin where the dress opened up. "Don't tell me it's not my business when my wife goes out dressed like a whore." His voice was deep and possessive as he continued to touch you, his fingers trailing lower on your back.

"I want you to go change into something more... appropriate," he murmured against your neck, nipping at the skin there before starting to kiss his way up towards your earlobe. "

He chuckled darkly at your futile attempt to escape him. "You don't want me to see you like this?" he asked, moving closer still until his face was mere inches from yours. His hands slid up under the dress, cupping your breasts through the lace bra you wore. "Or maybe," he whispered hoarsely, "you do?"

His thumbs brushed across your nipples, hardening them into tight peaks as his fingers dug deeper into your flesh, possessive and demanding. "

He leaned down, his lips just barely grazing yours as he murmured against your skin, "Do you want me to stop?" His fingers held you tightly, bruising almost as they pressed deeper into your flesh. "Or do you want more?" he breathed, his hot breath fanning across your sensitive nipples.

His hand slid lower still, finding the hem of your dress and tugging it upwards, baring your thighs to his view.

His fingers slid between your legs, finding the wetness that had welled there even though he hadn't touched you yet. "Do you want me to make you feel better?" He asked, his voice low and husky as he continued to stroke her, teasing her sensitive flesh. "Or would you rather I left you wanting more?"

With each word, his touch became more demanding, more possessive. His thumb found her clit, circling it roughly before pressing down hard, driving her closer to the edge.

He smiled cruelly, enjoying the way you squirmed and tried to get away from him. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked again, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. His fingers continued to torment your sensitive flesh, his thumb relentlessly pressing down on your clit. "Or do you want more?"

The truth was that he would do whatever it took to make you his completely, body and soul. And if that meant breaking you in the process...well, so be it.

His smile widened, cold and cruel. "No," he growled, leaning down to capture your lips with his own. His tongue thrust roughly into your mouth, possessing you completely as his fingers relentlessly stroked and teased. He felt the tightness in your core growing, heard your soft moans muffled against his lips as he brought you closer and closer to release. And when he finally let go, it was with a triumphant cry that echoed through the room.

He chuckled darkly and climbed off you, watching as your breathing began to slow down. "Don't pretend this didn't feel good," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He sat down on the bed beside you, his gaze fixed on where his hand had been moments ago.

"Now, why don't you tell me what you were really doing dressed like that at such a late hour?" There was a dangerous glint in his eye as he waited for your response, daring you to lie to him.

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "A meeting? At this hour?" He paused, his expression sly and knowing. "With who?" he demanded, leaning closer to you, his body practically radiating heat.

There was a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes that he couldn't help but notice. It only served to fuel the fire of jealousy burning inside him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before speaking again. "You know what?" he said at last, his voice low and dangerous. "

He leaned in even closer, his warm breath fanning across your cheek as he growled, "Don't lie to me." His hand reached out, cupping your face roughly as he forced you to meet his gaze. "I know something is going on and I want the truth." His voice was harsh and commanding, leaving no room for argument or denial.

His expression darkened further as he waited for you to finish your sentence. He could feel the tension building inside him, the need to control and possess you growing stronger by the second. "What is it?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me now."