His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 61

A sense of dread crept over Niamh, a primal urge to run making her heart race.

But as she spun around, Jonathan slammed the bedroom door shut behind her with a loud bang.

He hoisted her slender frame off the floor. Despite her desperate struggling, he flung her onto the bed.

Clutching her collar tight, eyes red-rimmed with fear, Niamh glared at him, wary and trembling. Jonathan couldn't help but laugh.

"Niamh, as long as we're still married, you're my lawful wife."

To Niamh, Jonathan looked like a starving predator. Wide-eyed, she watched as he shrugged off his suit jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"I don't want this! You can't force me!" Her cry was more a broken plea, her voice shaking despite her effort to sound fierce.

"Oh, but I can."

Without another word, Jonathan lunged for her.

Niamh curled up beneath him, shaking like a frightened animal, her toes digging into the sheets, her body taut with terror.

Three years of marriage, and she'd always gone along with him in the bedroom. Inevitably, it had grown stale.

But tonight, something was different. Her resistance only seemed to intrigue him more.

"So this is your new way of tempting me, huh?" he said, an edge of amusement in his voice.

Jonathan peeled away her clothes, one piece at a time. The helplessness, the panic—Niamh couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

"It's been a while, hasn't it? Let's hope you don't disappoint me," he murmured, brushing her tears away with his tongue—while his hands gripped her wrists hard enough to leave bruises.

—

The night passed in a haze of fevered intensity. By dawn, Jonathan was already dressed and ready, having called Prescott to deliver a fresh suit.

As always, Prescott asked no questions. He dropped off the suit and waited outside in the car.

When Jonathan finished getting dressed, Niamh was still asleep.

He glanced at her from the doorway. Even in sleep, her eyes were swollen from crying.

It was the first time, in all the years he'd known her, that he'd seen her break down like that.

Even as he took her, she'd wept—and though it had excited him at first, the feeling faded, leaving him oddly dissatisfied.

It wasn't as if this was the first time…

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