From the beach bar, I walked back to our room as my husband trailed behind me, calling my name, which caused me to quicken my pace. We’ve been separated for six months and he thinks this vacation will fix everything. I knew this wasn’t going to work.
When I reached our room, I tried to shut the door in his face but he was right behind me and pushed it open before slamming it behind him.
“What?” he yelled. “What is it?”
I asked, “What do you want from me?”
“I want what we had when we got married,” he said, stepping up to me quick. “I want you to look at me with love in your eyes. I want Valentina back.”
“She’s gone.”
“Not entirely. She’s here,” he said, placing his hand on my breast and the hardening nipple underneath.
He kept me in his intense gaze as his hand moved down to my stomach where he reached down to grab my crotch.
I said, “You told me once that rape isn’t your thing.”
“I’ll never take you without you wanting me back,” he said, with that all familiar lust. “But I’m a man who wants to see my wife naked. Take off your clothes.”