He hated her.
Her arrogance, her smart mouth, her ability to not need him as much as he needed her.
He would say he loved her. Parts of her, not in her entirety. But he was too stubborn to admit it.
He made her dinner. It was his turn; don’t think that love motivated him.
Because malice was growing in his guts, spreading tender tendrils in his soul, a few twined around his heart and trailed up to his brain. Causing him to add just a bit of a spice to the soup that he knew she was allergic to.
But just a bit, not enough to make her cry. Or need to go to the ER.
Smiling, he ate. Loaded the dishwasher with cheer and one eye on the clock.
Instead of sitting up with TV, he suggested they go to bed.
He always wanted to fuck, so she didn’t think twice about it.
She was reading and distractedly, began rubbing her right elbow. He watched with interest.
She began to rub her neck, her shoulders, behind her knees, and her left eye. She did not connect the dots but he did, as it looked like little paw prints were springing up in a red trail across her skin.
He slyly got the handcuffs from beneath his pillow.
As she finally put her book down and realized that she was having an allergic reaction, he straddled her and deftly cuffed each wrist to a bedpost.
She worriedly told him that now was not the time for sex; she needed her pill and her cream.
His erection was so strong and hard, it took his breath away.
He began lightly scratching the inflamed places on her skin. Knowing it helped yet made things worse. Knowing that she was being driven crazy with the stinging itch.
Hovering over her, watching the shock spread to her eyes was almost enough to make him cum right then.
Almost, but not enough.
He licked her nipples, then her cunt, as she pleaded for him to help her.
He only stopped to scratch her hives, and went back to tonguing her.
When he heard tears choking her voice, clouding it so sweetly, he spread her legs apart and entered her, sinking balls deep.
He was hoping her pussy was itching, as he slowly drove in and out of her.
Her face was turned away from him but he made her look at him, made her focus her eyes on his face.
Looking at her, knowing she was helpless, was what he wanted. She needed him. For everything.
He was not able to hold on to that feeling for long. His body took over and he plunged in and out, faster and faster until her head was knocking against the headboard. He jerked, once, twice, emptying into her.
Sitting back on his haunches, breathing heavily. Enjoying her soft weeping.
He got her a glass of water, a pill and her cream. Because he loved her.
But he made her beg for it and lick his sack and her juices off his cock, before he gave them to her.
Because he hated her, too.