My Bratty Wife
Chapter 47 - Forty Seven

Chapter 47: Chapter Forty Seven

The air crackled with unspoken tension as they remained tangled on the bed. Suzy’s chest rose and fell rapidly beneath him, her cheeks flushed a fiery red. Ryan, trapped between his own body heat and the close proximity of hers, felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

"What are you doing in my shirt, Duchess?" he finally growled, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

Suzy swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "It’s... well," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, "I wasn’t expecting us to share a room."

She blurted out the truth in a rush, hoping to explain herself before his anger flared. "I packed my usual nightwear, but you... well, you don’t seem particularly fond of those," she added, a hint of defiance creeping into her voice. "Those flimsy things that barely cover anything."

Ryan’s jaw clenched slightly, his eyes narrowing. The memory of those transparent garments flashed in his mind, a vision he’d tried to suppress.

"And?" he prompted, his voice a low rumble.

Suzy crossed her arms defensively. "And," she continued, her voice gaining a touch of steel, "the thought of enduring another one of your lectures about what to do and what not to do frankly wasn’t appealing tonight. So, I borrowed your shirt."

He remained silent for a moment, his eyes searching hers. He knew about the scandalous nightgowns she favored, a source of annoyance and frustration for him at times.

"Besides," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I was planning on putting everything back in order after my bath. I just..." Her sentence trailed off as she realized he wasn’t paying attention.

Ryan leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. His voice, when he spoke, was a low, husky command. "Take it off, Duchess."

Suzy’s eyes widened in surprise. The audacity of his request, the raw possessiveness in his voice, sent a jolt through her. "Wh-what?" she stammered, her voice barely a squeak.

"Take it off," he repeated, his gaze dropping to where her hand clutched the flimsy fabric of his shirt. "Now." There was no room for argument in his tone.

Suzy stared at him, her mouth agape in disbelief. "Take it off?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "But... but what will I wear?"

Ryan remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he held her captive with his intensity. He didn’t answer her question, the unspoken command hanging heavy in the air. Suzy felt a wave of heat flush her cheeks, a mix of anger and confusion swirling within her.

Suddenly, a sharp movement startled her. Ryan shifted his weight, his knee pressing firmly against the inside of her thigh, gently spreading her legs open. A gasp escaped her lips, her eyes widening in shock. This wasn’t the stoic, controlled Duke she was accustomed to. What had gotten into him tonight?

He leaned closer, his warm breath tickling her ear. His voice, a low baritone that sent shivers down her spine, spoke directly into her ear. "Don’t," he murmured, the single word laced with a dangerous edge. "Don’t touch my things again without permission. Consider this a... warning." He paused, his voice dropping to an even lower register. "And this time only."

He lingered for a moment, the heat of his breath warming her skin. Then, as abruptly as he had moved in, he pulled back. He stood up, his tall frame casting a long shadow over her. Without another word, he turned and walked towards the bathroom, leaving Suzy flushed and flustered on the bed.

The door shut softly behind him, leaving Suzy alone with the echo of his words and the confusing jumble of emotions within her. His unexpected command, the way he had pinned her down, the sensuality of his touch – it all left her breathless and bewildered.

"What just happened?" she whispered to the empty room. She ran a hand through her damp hair, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

She pulled the oversized shirt tighter around her, seeking comfort in the familiar scent of his linen – a scent that now seemed tinged with something more potent, something that awakened a sense of longing she hadn’t acknowledged before.

As the minutes ticked by, the silence in the room grew deafening. The sound of water from the bathroom was the only sound that broke the tension. Suzy couldn’t help but steal glances towards the closed door, her mind replaying the events of the past few moments.

The cool rush of water from the bathroom did little to quell the lingering heat in Ryan’s body. He emerged, drying his face on a plush towel, only to find Suzy fast asleep on the bed. Her breathing was soft and even, the white linen shirt still clinging to her slender frame.

A gentle breeze rustled the heavy curtains, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Ryan sighed, frustration bubbled within him. He had intended to voice his displeasure at her earlier defiance, but the unexpected turn of events had left him feeling disoriented.

He stood beside the bed for a moment, watching her sleep. Her breathing was soft and even, her features relaxed. He noticed a stray strand of hair clinging to her cheek, and he reached out instinctively, brushing it away.

Then, reality struck. He cursed under his breath, realizing he was practically standing guard over a sleeping woman. He needed sleep, and this oversized bed, unfortunately, was the only option.

His eyes narrowed as he saw Suzy sprawled across the entire expanse of the luxurious mattress. There was barely enough space for a cat, let alone another person.

"Duchess," he called out gently, his voice barely a whisper. "Duchess, wake up."

She remained blissfully unaware, her sleep undisturbed by his soft pleas. Ryan decided to shift her gently towards the edge of the bed. He reached out, his hand hovering over her shoulder for a moment before placing it down lightly.

But as he attempted to move her, she let out a soft murmur of protest and instinctively rolled closer to the warmth radiating from his body. He froze, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air. Did she... No, surely not. Exhaustion must have clouded her judgment.

He tried again, this time a little more firmly, but she only snuggled deeper into the soft bedding. A frustrated groan escaped his lips. This was proving to be more difficult than he anticipated.

Defeated, he surveyed the remaining space on the bed. It was enough for a small child, perhaps, but certainly not a grown man. With another sigh, he resigned himself to his fate.

Glancing at the plush armchair near the fireplace, he made his decision. He wouldn’t disturb her sleep any further. The armchair, though not the most comfortable option, would have to suffice for the night.

As he settled into the chair, the sound of crackling fire filled the silence.

The plush armchair, while comfortable, wasn’t designed for a man of his stature. He tossed and turned, the image of Suzy sprawled across the bed a constant reminder of the disrupted night.

Just as he was about to succumb deeply into a restless slumber, a faint whimper pierced the silence. He sat bolt upright, his senses instantly alert. The sound came again, a soft, mournful cry that sent a shiver down his spine.

He strained his ears, the sound clearly coming from the bed. A wave of concern washed over him, battling with the remnants of his annoyance. He didn’t like to be woken, especially not by... crying?

Hesitantly, he rose from the armchair and moved closer to the bed. The whimper grew louder, and as he peered down at Suzy, his heart lurched. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her brow furrowed in distress. She was mumbling incoherently, the words "Mom... Dad..." escaping her lips in a heartbreaking whisper.

He wasn’t a man of emotions, and this display of vulnerability felt... awkward, to say the least. He had seen Suzy as strong and stubborn, a fierce spirit beneath her defiance demeanor.

He rubbed his temples, his mind racing through possible solutions. Should he wake her? Leave her be? He knew nothing about comforting someone in distress, especially not someone who triggered such conflicting emotions within him.

Just as he was about to turn away, her hand shot out, blindly grasping at his robe. "Mom... Dad... I want to go home ..." she murmured, her voice thick with tears.

Ryan let out a long sigh, a mixture of frustration and a strange protectiveness washing over him. He couldn’t just leave her like this, not when she was clearly having a nightmare.

With a resigned shrug, he pulled off his robe and climbed onto the bed. He positioned himself carefully at the edge, leaving ample space between them. But the moment he settled in, Suzy, seemingly sensing his presence, rolled closer, her face burrowing into his chest. In her sleep, she wrapped her legs around him, clinging to him like a lifeline.

He froze, his body tense. This was not how he envisioned spending the night. Yet, as the warmth of her body seeped into his own, a strange sense of calm washed over him. Her whimpers subsided, replaced by a soft, even breathing. He let out another sigh, this time one of weary acceptance.

"Why do you always make me do things I don’t want to do?" he muttered to himself, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite the situation. He reached out a hand, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. His touch was light, feather-soft, almost afraid to break the fragile peace that had settled between them.

He closed his eyes, the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing a lullaby in the quiet night. Sleep, for the first time that night, finally claimed him.