Obi looked out at the garden which was awash with rain. His lips curled into a smile of wry amusement as he looked at the greenery of the garden. The completely unexpected downpour had inhibited him from going out to the office and had likewise compelled his totally rebellious wife to remain in bed after she had cancelled her morning appointment with her belly dance choreographer and the group of female dancers she intended to use in her much-anticipated upcoming single that she had released a lot of teaser videos for and which had her legion of fans waiting with bated breath for her to send the video out to the world to see.
He knew that she considered her life to be simpler when she had not married him, and she often told him that she would never have the time to think about him, or to trust him. She had told him that their marriage was one huge disappointment, one that was given the green light by the media who adored them wherever they went.
As he spent time with her, he'd gained considerable insight into the psychological makeup of her life. She was an extremely stubborn woman, and she resisted him in every way possible_ it was as if she was bent on making their time together as unprofitable as possible. He'd let her have her way sometimes, but when it related to sex, she was more than compliant to him with her body and her sexual affections. In bed, she was a completely different woman, and what she did to him whenever they were naked and engaged in hot sex, often made him smile in the mornings and forget his sorrows. She was an expert in the art of lovemaking, giving him small tasty bites that often had him begging for more. There she would be, licking at his body with her tongue and eating his cock with her lips, sucking and licking his balls, fondling him, teasing him until he was almost at the point of release, and then she'd withdraw from him, smiling at him teasingly and calling him a bad boy in that voice that was like a caress to his senses.
She was also very strong-willed and opinionated, a very a stubborn and independent woman with beauty and brains to boot, a roaring flame who was swift to say what she wanted to say, when she wanted to say it. He was thoroughly fascinated by her; the flash of humor in her eyes when she engaged in stimulating talk with his mother_ Hope still lived with them, though in the east wing of the huge house_ his wife had bluntly refused that the woman would leave her matrimonial home for other lodgings, and he was grateful to her for it. But what he really wanted was to make her his, to break down the barrier that separated them. He wanted to claim her love just the way he'd claimed her body. He knew she didn't love him; the unmistakable flash of hostility and anger in those bewitching luminous eyes of hers pointed to it unwaveringly. He hoped to one day make her love him and care for him the way she loved and cared for her children and those around her.
He pondered to himself what it would be like to be loved by a woman like her, and he was often so aware of her that he could think of nothing else. The black hair that gleamed like spun silk ,the smooth, fair skin, the long legs she loved showing off in her short skirts she enjoyed wearing because she knew how they teased his cock, the way her long body moved with the grace and effortless flow of a model. He often felt an urgent desire to own her, to touch her and never stop, to be closer to her, to be the bane of her existence, and none of her petty scheming would deter him from achieving his objective.
Crossing over to the master bedroom from his vantage point, he eased the polished door open and walked into the room to find his wife lying on the bed, her body posed seductively like the cover model of a magazine. He felt a stab of desire, and he was sure the woman was aware of the effect she had on him, for he felt the stiffening of her body and the hardening of her eyes. She had been reading a fitness magazine, and she put it down, and the look she plastered on her face was one of indifference. It was what he invariably called her poker face.
'Obi, my dear, I thought I begged you to stay out of this room, that I'm battling with an onslaught of headache because of the hectic schedule I'd had to put up with this week because of my new upcoming video,' she said, and there was an undertone of annoyance in the well-modulated tones of her voice. She fastened a basilisk glare to his face, which merely amused him at how hard she fought him, how hard she tried. 'Now please leave,' she continued dryly, 'and while you're at it, would you please fetch me some aspirin from the kitchen cabinet? I need it desperately.'
'On the contrary, my dear girl,' he replied, 'I'll leave when I please, and I'm just not ready to leave yet. I think now would be the best time for us to talk.'
She laughed, and there was malice in her eyes as she said, 'Oh, but we have nothing to talk about, and I wouldn't deign to listen to your ranting. You'll just be talking to yourself, dear.'
'My dear girl, listen to me; you owe me ten long years, and now is my time to collect. Did you think I forgot all about you after we met at that club? I just couldn't get the image of your body and your lovemaking out of my mind at that time, and you were supposed to come to my house the following day; I waited for you. Why didn't you come to me like we agreed?'
She pushed herself to the extreme corner of the bed, and there was anger and sheer annoyance etched in her face as she looked up at him. She snapped, 'I do not have the time to sit here and listen to your ranting about something that had happened over a decade ago. Can't you just let sleeping dogs lie? And then, now that mention it, did you think I've been blind? Did you think I never notice the way you flirt around with whores who have no brains underneath all their hair and their bodies?'
'I know that you're not blind, but what I do with my spare time is none of your bloody business. I am a man, a virile man with a healthy libido, and I can go to any woman I want and satisfy myself with her. You should have more sense than to talk such nonsense.' He wanted to tell her that he yearned for more than what they had together. What they had between them was nothing but pure sex, the clash of burning hormones which had nothing to do with love. He knew that she loved her manager and friend, the godfather of her kids; Dan. But what he wanted to know was whether that love transcended mere friendship, whether she loved Dan in that way.
'But why would you dare to do it in places where you can be seen by other people? If you knew you had to go out and have your fun, why would you choose to be seen in the public so people who can put two and two together? Have you no code of morality? Do you willfully choose to be so blatantly decadent?'
Face oozing with anger at the sheer audacity of this woman who had sworn to make their marriage a living hell; he raised his hand to strike her. It was the first time he had ever raised his hand with the intention to willfully slap a member of the fairer sex. But this woman had the ability to incite him to such anger, he often felt like committing murder, and she didn't even flinch at the prospect of having her beautiful face slapped or battered by his fists. Her eyes were burning with indignation, and she was staring at him with a cold, controlled fury that matched his, and he could see that she seemed to be enjoying their verbal sparring. Her burst of anger totally amused him, and he was thinking to himself how very beautiful she looked in her anger, like a feral goddess.
Quelling the urge to compliment her on how stunning she looked in her anger, he commented grimly, 'You've suddenly become jealous of my women and that makes me wonder if you've not started to fall in love with me, hence the possessiveness and jealousy at the thought of seeing me with other women. You are too proud to admit it, of course, and I know I'm right.'
RAGE WAS ERUPTING WITHIN ADAMMA, and she was feeling the strong urge to strike the face of the man who took such wry amusement in taunting her, and, inwardly, she was turning a shade darker than she was. She was furious, and she would never allow that anger to burst forth from her because it would give her husband a warped sense of victory over her.
As she looked at him, she felt such anger at him, such disgust at his stupid antics. And he thought she could ever fall in love with a conceited, manipulative man like him_ men are so stupid and terribly naive, she thought to herself.
She said coldly, 'I have suffered in life, Obi. My parents died before I could grow up and be the lawyer they wanted me to be, and then my sister also died. It was one tragedy after another, and I was then forced into the streets to go and fend for myself or have myself gobbled up by the society. I was a hungry girl, who never had enough for me no matter how hard I tried, but then, Fortune smiled on me and I rose to staggering fame and fortune. I have everything I want, but, surprisingly, the only thorn in my flesh is my husband_ you. You are despicable, my dear, and I would gladly do anything I can to be rid of you.'
She could see he was laughing at her, making fun at her expense. But it was his next words, uttered with such carelessness and mockery, which made her temper snap. 'You're such a flaming piece of ass, and believe me when I tell you that I'm happy to be married to one of the greatest whores in the business; at least I get to have a free fuck whenever I want it.'
And she snapped, her fury erupting within her like a volcano. Her feet dragging her off the bed of their own accord, the magazine she'd been grasping firmly flying out of her hands, she hauled herself at her husband, her clenched fist shooting out to deliver a well-aimed blow to his face. Effortlessly, he slapped away her fist and then he hauled her back to the bed as if she weighed no more than a feather pillow.
The force of the impact stunned her, and she lay there panting like an angry tigress, then flew up once again and launched her body at him. This time, he allowed her fist to connect with his hard chest, and then he twisted her around with a speed and force that knocked the breath from her lungs. He grabbed her by her hair which now hung in disarray around her shoulders, and she gasped and struggled against him, her fists pummeling at him. But it was as if she was fighting a brick wall, and he didn't let her go.
It was a small voice which spoke from the doorway that froze the both of them into immobility and made her emit a low moan of pure anguish. 'Daddy, let go of mummy,' their daughter's voice said with such anger and precision that Obi released her abruptly, making her lose her balance and topple flat on her face.
As she struggled to her feet, she had a glimpse of Obi as he controlled the expression on his face and turn to smile at the girl. But Adamma knew that her daughter would never fall for that trap; Helen was too perceptive to be fooled by fake smiles. 'My darling,' he said, addressing the girl in a cool voice that would've charmed even a snake, 'aren't you supposed to be with your grandmother, playing scrabble? I know that you love that game.'
'Do not call me a darling!' Helen hissed in an angry voice that was very unbecoming of her sweet face and customary angelic disposition. She scowled angrily. 'I saw what you were doing to my mother. You were about to hit her, and yet, whenever I ask you if you love her, you claim that you adore her.'
Summoning the last shred of her dignity because she knew she would definitely need it in order to be able to tackle her daughter, Adamma barely managed to infuse a semblance of coolness into her voice as she addressed the furious Helen. 'Your father was not hurting me, my dear. If he was, then I'll surely beat him up. Now apologize for your rudeness to him right now.'
But the girl was adamant. 'No,' she said resolutely, completely undeterred by her mother's look of silent plea. 'He was trying to hurt you. But that's not why I came up here. Dan called you, mother. He asked me to tell you to get ready, that you're going to attend the St. Matthew charity party tonight.'
Adamma was in no mood for Dan's infectious sense of humor and also be the recipient of that look of adoration which was intermingled with sadness whenever he looked at her, so she opened her mouth to tell Helen to call Dan and cancel the invitation, that she had other social obligations encroaching on her time, but she thought better of it. Why not go out with the handsome record magnate who was as good a friend and as loyal as a dog and make her husband die of jealousy? Why not indulge in a little dalliance with the man and watch what her husband's reaction would be? It would give her a kick to see the look of murderous rage on his face.
She told the little girl to call Dan and respond in the affirmative, and, as she dismissed the girl from the room, she threw a scathing glare at her husband and saw that he was frowning at her. She plastered a mirthless smile on her face. 'Surely the best father in the world, aren't you?' she jeered at him, her voice dripping with heavy sarcasm. 'Remind me to nominate you for an award for Best Lying Father of the Year.'
Obi towered menacingly over her as she got back into the bed, his eyes blazing with black fury. 'What was Helen talking about?' he demanded angrily. 'You're going out with another man even though you're married to me?'
She smiled lazily at him. 'Yes, and is something wrong with my choice? Well, I never knew you could be so jealous. That shows just how you much you care. Anyway, do you think my strapless Amy McBride gown will be suitable for the date?' She was now enjoying herself. 'Help me choose a gown, darling. And please do not try to impose a moral code different from the one you adhere to on me.'
Obi stared at her as if he'd never seen her before. He thought she had lost her mind. 'Cancel that date or I'll do it myself,' he warned in a cold, hard voice that would have sent the nearest mice scurrying for cover. He was now perilously at the end of his patience, and he knew that he could easily throttle his wife to death in a moment of insanity. What gave her the heightened guts to try and flout his orders, he couldn't possibly conceive, and even more disturbing was the wave of emotions and intense anger and jealousy that ripped through him like a tidal wave at the mere thought of his wife going out in the company of another man. Could this be that he was infatuated, possibly in love with this rebellious woman who took such perverse pleasure in taunting him?
Quelling the urge to laugh at his stupid imaginings, he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. He knew Adamma was itching for a fight with him, but he wouldn't pander to her wishes. 'My dear girl, I am not in the mood to argue with you, so I'll let you go to the charity whatever it is you want to go to, but you must steer clear of that man, and also refrain from looking too provocative. That's an order.'
And she was smiling at him in triumph, and she stood up to face him and look him squarely in the face. He turned his eyes down so he would not have to look into her face_ there was a magic about her that captivated him and trapped his senses. It was painful to look at her face; that magical face that had thrilled millions of fans from Lagos to the Federal Capital Territory, from the shores of West Africa to the entire continent; from Europe to the glittering fashion capitals of the world: Spain, Paris, New York, and even Asia. And when he looked into her beautiful face, something inside him snapped. Darn, he'd fallen for this woman like a sack of potatoes, and being this close to her, her nearness doing things to his body which had his cock tingling with desire, without being able to do anything about it, was pure torture. She was a vision of ecstasy, and he thought that if she ever held him or touched him at that moment, he'd become more alive in her arms, his fantasies soaring to the high heavens.
He turned resolutely to go because there was something bewitching about being here in her presence. 'I have to go, Adamma,' he told her shakily, his body trembling. 'I think I'm becoming crazy, all thanks to you, so I think it would be better for me to leave you alone now. Thank you for all you've done_ making me crazy, that is.' Bending forward, his arms encircled her neck, he planted a kiss on her cheek, thinking that she'd pull away and hit him. But she didn't; she wasn't that malicious.
She held him, and returned his kiss. Then she pulled back, and he saw a strange light in her luminous eyes. He couldn't claim to be a good judge of thoughts through a person's eyes, so he couldn't quite fathom what her strange look meant.
'At least I did something good for you,' she said quickly and smiled. It was a flash of white against the light brown of her face, but he couldn't tell whether there was humor in it or not. He looked up to face her, and he stood a head taller than she was, even without his shoes on. 'That counts for something, yes?' she continued, and then she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips.
It was a mere brush of her luscious red lips against his in what could be called an innocent friendly gesture, but it got his blood heated up instantly. Before she could pull away and dive back into the relative safety of the bed, he held her by her trim waist which she contrived to keep that way through rigorous exercises and a sometimes strict diet, particularly when she had to go on one of her famous tours; his dark eyes searched hers for any sign of withdrawal or revulsion at his touch. He expected it since they were always fighting each other and quarrelling and squabbling over nothing and everything.
He stood taller than she was, he was muscular and physically imposing to look at, but he felt a little uneasy holding her there, inhaling her heady feminine scent, afraid she'd pull back or hit him with her fist. She was even into boxing, and so, could quite pack a blow. She did nothing; instead, she continued to look up at him, fire in her eyes, waiting for him to make a move, to take the lead, and at that moment, he began to feel an erection. Slowly, his cock began to rise, straining against the thin fabric of his underwear.
'I'm not sorry about this,' he murmured, his voice laden with desire. 'It's just that you're standing so close to me, and touching me, and making me aware of you as a woman, and not just an ordinary woman, but a dangerously sexy woman who has a lot of sexual power over me . . . I wanted to run away at that club on that night as you stared at me with these incredible eyes of yours which can grab so much, and give so much when you wish to give; I had wanted to run away from you before you hooked me too tightly. But when you came at me in that corridor, and subsequently, I ran into you again after all those years had been spent hoping and praying that I would meet you again. . .'
'Say it,' she challenged, smiling wryly.
'You have hooked me too tightly,' he responded softly, pressing a thumb to Adamma's lower lip which looked extremely sexy and kissable. She sucked in a breath, and then he knew that the desire swirling around the air was not in any way one-sided; she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. There was a passionate side to her, one that could not be stifled even by their fights and quarrels which they both seemed to thrive on as if it was their own aphrodisiac. He continued. 'You are a flame, one that burns in my loins. . .' In my . . . heart? My soul? . . .
'Should I be glad or terrified?' she asked with a mischievous glint in her warm luminous eyes.
'Both,' he managed to answer, one moment right before his lips sought and claimed hers in a deep, intimate kiss that practically knocked the breath out of his lungs. He entwined his arms around her slim waist, drawing her closer to him. He could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her dress, and he moaned as her sexy lips shifted from his to trace an invisible line down his jaw, her kisses trailing down seductively to his muscled chest. . . And then her tongue swirled around his lift nipple, her mouth finding it even through the fabric of his shirt, moments before she sucked it into her mouth, making him to emit a gasp as the shock and pleasure of the electrical touch sizzled through him. She bit the taut brown nipple with her teeth.
'Ouch!' he gasped, blushing; he was sure his skin color had turned three shades darker. But still, her sucking his nipple had felt good; it had excited him further. Sometimes, he thoroughly loved a lot of sucking and licking during sex, and he was quite sure that Adamma's specially trained mind had latched on to that piece of information; her time as a teenage sex worker had enlightened her to a lot about the male erogenous zones and erotic preferences. She was smiling at him knowingly, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.
'Let me see to your utmost pleasure,' she murmured seductively, her voice a cat-like purr of pleasure that sent waves of pleasure slicing through him. Her breaths came in uneven gasps, and she was almost panting. 'Let me worship you. Let me worry about the numerous moves that are necessary. But we can't lose control in here, darling: this is my room, so it's most inappropriate for us to just strip off our clothes and have sex. I do not want to take you here; I want you to take off my clothes with your teeth and then take me on the table.'
And then she was smiling at him in that seductive way that had made her so famous, her fingers working on the buttons on her shirt; she was flashing her breasts which were encased in a hot-pink bra at him, and then she was leaning forward, her lips kissing him, her hands stroking his fully erect cock through his trousers. 'So huge. . .' she murmured approvingly as he ached and rubbed against her hand. 'You are magnificent. Now, take off that thing you're wearing; I want to really touch you.'
He obeyed her, and when he pulled his trousers and boxers down to his knees, his huge cock springing free from the confines of the material that had restrained it, she signaled for him to stop. Smiling warmly at him, she took the erect muscle in her hand and stroked it slowly, her fingers working from his pubic region and sliding up the full shaft of his cock to the head which she massaged masterfully, making him to shudder and gasp out her name. She then knelt before him and took the organ in her mouth, her tongue swirling around the extremely sensitive head of his cock.
'Baby, you're so good,' Obi gasped, throwing his head back and driving his hips forward slowly so as to have his organ buried deep inside her mouth_ as much of him as she could accommodate anyway. 'I want this to go on forever.'
And then she pulled her mouth free of him and rose to her feet, her eyes gleaming with cold triumph. 'Now that you're fully erect and rearing to go like a charged beast, let's see what you can do about your erection. As for me, I want to go and have a cup of tea, and then I'm going to play with my daughter and enjoy a new Tess Gerritsen thriller before I go out for my dance practice.' She turned and headed towards the door.
Obi stared after her, stunned. She had already thrown the door open. 'Wait!' he cried; she stopped. 'You can't just leave me here like this.'
She laughed. 'I can, and what's more, I will. What you do not know is that we whores really do know how to leave a man with an itch that'll drive him crazy. Let's see what you intend to do about that monster you've got in-between your legs.' She turned to look at him squarely in the face and then she blew him a kiss. 'Enjoy yourself, honey. Helen!' she called out, turning towards the door and throwing it open. She stepped out of the room and banged the door shut. 'Mummy is coming to play with you!' she called.
Obi balled his fingers with frustration and glared at the door in annoyance, and he knew that if he had a gun, he would surely use it on his wife. And for the second time in his life, he was forced to masturbate in front of his wife's picture which adorned the east wall in the huge room_ the first time had been the night when Adamma had failed to turn up at his apartment so they could enjoy a night of passion; that was ten years ago. As he stroked himself, he inwardly raved at her, and when he finally spewed out his ejaculation, he murmured her name and then he burst out laughing.
He'd give it to the woman anyway; she really did know how to exert punishment. But he'd get her for this. That was his promise to himself as he walked out of the room ten minutes later and slammed the door shut behind him.
/xx1