The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 127: Feisty Wife

Chapter 127: Feisty Wife

Her lips quivered slightly, as if his words held the ability to reflect in the physical realm immediately he said it, it felt as if his words were a proclaimed promise, full of enticement and lustful desires.

For a split moment, she lost her voice until she felt his iron grip on her arm, pulling her gently toward the washroom. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around the bedpost, halting her feet firmly on the floor to prevent moving.

"Let go of me, I can wash myself, I’m not handicapped!" She snapped with angry eyes as she held onto the post like her life depended on it.

"Stop being so strong headed, Rama." He drawled, his voice calm and neutral as he spoke, he didn’t seem irritated about her obstinate nature, but his crimson eyes squinted.

She shook her head vigorously, her brows creased as she shot glares his way while clutching her arms around the bedpost.

"If you try to pull me away with force, you’ll rip my arms apart." She pointed out.

He stared at her for a moment, face blank until a scoff escaped his lips in amusement. His lips twisted seductively into a smirk. She saw his free arm lunge toward her with sharp fingers elongating, her face turned pale with horror and a yelp escaped her lips as her intrusive thoughts had presumed he was about to claw her guts out.

She braced herself for his claws to disembowel her, which she as well presumed was a ridiculous thought and doubtful it was going to happen, but her intrusive thoughts just kicked in.

With an eerie grace, he stretched out his elongated claws, each one resembling a gleaming dagger. With a swift and deliberate motion, he struck the bedpost, the wood splintering and shattering under the force of his supernatural strength. The room filled with the echoing sound of destruction as his sinister laughter resonated through the air.

Rama screeched in stupefaction at his reckless and bestial behaviour, but either ways, her hands were free now.

"What is wrong with you, you psychotic maniac!" She snapped with widened eyes, her chest heaving heavily both from the anxiety she had felt and the jump fright.

"Why are you so shocked? I’ve always being a psychotic maniac." He said with a drawl, and before she could yell more at him, he swept her off her feet, swinging her up as he hung her on his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Hanging upside down with her hair falling over her face, she shrieked with flailing limbs as she sent futile punches into his hard back, screaming "Let me down! Let me down!"

"From a feisty princess to a feisy wife." He muttered with a sigh under his breath as he moved into the washroom.

After a short moment of movement, he put her down to stand on her feet inside the washroom, a tub filled with steamy water seated at the middle of the room waiting for them to occupy it.

Her veins popped in her forehead, eyes blazing with anger, he always had a knack to somehow press her buttons and enrage her.

"If you lay a finger on me, I swear I’ll...I’ll..." She stuttered as she trailed off, clueless on how to complete her threats.

Unable to say anymore, he approached her with stealth, sleek movement in an intimate position, she could feel the heat emanating from his body as he stared down at her fragile figure with a smoldering gaze.

His face was now hardened, his chiseled jaws appearing more sharper than before as the mischief in his eyes disappeared to be replaced with a distant coldness.

"You’ll do what?" He asked, his voice a dark low rumble that made the air ripple with charged intensity.

Silence echoed back to them as her gaze wavered, her lips hesitating to spew out any more threats.

"What will you do if I touch you Rama?" He queried again, his timbre voice sating the air with a pertrifying aura, she felt goosebumps rise on her skin.

His cold fingers rested below her chin as he tilted her head up for her eyes to meet his.

"The only thing you’ll do if I touch you is moan in pleasure, so save your empty threats." He said, his husky tone floating into her ears as a sarcastic smirk tearing through his lips, his stern countenance suddenly taking a switch as mischief gleamed in his eyes.

Okay, now she was embarrassed because he was right.

Realizing he wasn’t in the least offended by her remark and was only teasing her, she was about to give him a snarky remark until she heard his commanding tone resonate in the air.

"Strip off." He commanded, leaving Rama with enlarged eyes.

"What?"

"Strip or I’ll do it for you." He said, his voice less commanding but rather persuasive like honeyed poison contaminating her mind.

It seemed like she had an option but she had none, if she refused, he would undoubtedly strip her clothes himself, after all he was her husband, it wouldn’t be barbaric but instead typical of him.

"Fine, I’ll do it but please....look away." She said with a timid voice, hanging her head low as she stole a peek at him beneath her lashes.

A chuckle escaped his lips, amused by her playacting of innocence.

"Your little facade show is bad. The only trait you do not possess in your personality is innocence or naivety." He pointed out, tilting his head in amusement as a sheepish grin cut through his lips to reveal his glistening fangs.

"I am innocent, I’ve never been touched by any other man and we haven’t consummated the marriage yet." She said defensively, emphasizing on her words as she pouted her lips at him with creased brows.

"My sweet feisty princess, innocence doesn’t equal virginity, you’re everything but that, now it’s time for our bath, I’m sure you won’t like it if the water gets too cold now, would you?" He said, while unzipping his pants as he proceeded to take them off. Rama, with widened eyes and a gasp escaping her lips, she turned her back on him startled.

The dark air he emitted around her cleared and in the next moment, she heard a water rippling sound which indicated he was in the water. Anxiously, she veered around to see him in the water, his back facing her while his dark hair floated atop the water.

Her eyes narrowed to the dragon tattoo concealing every pale skin on his back, every ink embedded with darkness, making it seem as if the dragon was alive.

The black dragon tattoo sprawled across the entire expanse of his back, an intricate and malevolent masterpiece of ink. Its obsidian scales glistened with an almost supernatural sheen, appearing as if they could deflect light itself. The dragon’s sinuous body coiled and writhed, framing his form with its serpentine grace.

Its eyes, golden like smoldering embers, seemed to bore into anyone who dared to gaze upon them, radiating an eerie, fiery intensity. Jagged obsidian horns jutted from its skull, adding a menacing touch to its already fearsome visage. Its immense wings unfurled across the Devil’s son’s shoulders, a testament to the tattoo artist’s skill in capturing the essence of dark power.

"You’re wasting my time love, want me to do it for you instead?" She heard him speak with a lazy tone, without turning around, bringing her out of her reverie. Realizing what he meant, she frantically but prudently peeled the frail dress off her body, while making sure he wasn’t peeking. True she wasn’t innocent or naive, but fluster and anxiety, he made her feel a lot of that.

Covering her chest with her arms, she immersed herself quickly into the water for it to conceal her nakedness. She sighed subconsciously at the soothing feel of the warm moisture against her skin.

Sitting on her bottom, she pressed her knees against her chest, covering as much skin as she could.

He mechanically turned around to look at her, making her gaze dart back and forth between himself and the water. Ignoring him, she took hold of the scrub and resorted to taking her bath as quickly as possible. It didn’t seem like a good idea staying in the water with him for too long especially when she was prone to his touch.

Immediately she started scrubbing her arms, the water rippled with a graceful movement as he approached her with a gliding motion. She paused with narrowed eyes at him as they were in close proximity.

Her eyes subconsciously narrowed to his body, taking in the gloriousness of his muscular frame that covered her entire one as he loomed above her, wet tendrils of his dark hair falling over his hard shoulders and taut chest.

"What is it?" She queried with a small voice as his siren eyes holding her hostage under his gaze struck her with dark fascinations stirring in her stomach.

He suddenly grabbed the scrub from her hold, a slight smirk tugging the edge of his lips up.

"Why scrub yourself when your husband can do it for you?" He said, his voice smooth and low like a sultry caress, she could almost feel his cold fingertips grazing her warm skin. She didn’t want to admit, but her cheeks flushed when he called himself her husband, what a strange feeling but she liked it.

There was no sort of mischief in his eyes nor that glint that suggested an underlying meaning in his words, it seemed as though he only wanted to scrub his wife.

Gently, he grabbed her arm and started scrubbing in circular motions, his pressure delicate on her skin as if she were a fragile porcelain glass that would break if he applied any more pressure, technically in his arms she was.

In stark contrast to her feisty personality, she silently enjoyed his delicate touch as he scrubbed her, even a mere action just as scrubbing her seemed suggestive and sensual, it elicited fluttering butterfly wings not just in her stomach, but also between her legs.