Discomfort

When they stepped out of the elevator, Desmond guided her towards the entrance of the penthouse.

He punched in the code to unlock the door. "6789."

"Huh?"

"6789 is the code to unlock the door," he remarked before walking inside the apartment.

"Why are you telling me that?" Elsa followed him inside.

Desmond opened his coat and tossed it on the couch. "Because you are my wife, you should know these things."

"I am not your wife yet," she mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

He raised his brows. "So you want me to wait until our wedding to tell you about things like this? Fine, erase it from your memory. I'll silently pass you a note after I put my ring on your finger."

Elsa rolled her eyes at him. "A*sshole," she mumbled.

Desmond raised his brows as he watched her walk into the penthouse. "Did you cuss on me?"

"Why? No one ever told you the truth?"

He crossed his hands in the front. "And what would that be?"

"That you are an a*sshole." Elsa tossed her purse on the couch.

Desmond chuckled. "You know I like how you don't think before speaking." He walked towards her. "Especially when you are at my mercy."

"Your mercy?" She scoffed.

"Well, you are in my penthouse alone with me and you have nowhere to run." When he approached her, Elsa took a step back. "Your family knows you are with me, they won't look for you."

She gulped as her back hit the cold wall.

"I can do whatever I want and no one will say anything." He smirked and trapped her in between his arms. "Elsa Marino, you are at my mercy."

Though Elsa was flustered, she tried to remain calm. He was right, she was indeed at his mercy but that didn't mean she would surrender to whatever he says or does.

"You wish," she scoffed. "You will not touch me."

"And how are you so sure?" Desmond tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before inching closer. "From what I remember, you were the one who told the Longhart guy that I could touch you whenever and however I want."

Elsa pursed her lips. She told Ferdinand that because she wanted him out of her hair. She didn't want him to bother her. But who would have thought that Desmond would end up heating it.

Desmond was enjoying the look on Elsa's face. It was rare for her to look flustered and drop the brave expression she always tries to maintain.

But his happiness did not last long.

"Well, according to you many men have touched me so it won't matter if you do it too." As the words left her lips, Elsa felt a pinch in her heart. Desmond's words had deeply hurt her.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

She expected him to walk out without saying anything but what he did next surprised her.

"I am sorry." Desmond looked straight into her eyes. "I shouldn't have said that but you have to understand that I didn't mean it."

When Elsa scoffed, he grabbed her arms and pulled her closer. "Look, I am not proud of what I did, I know you aren't a—" He couldn't bring himself to mention the word again.

When he paused, she snapped, "What? You can't say the word now? It's okay, you have said it before, you can say it again."

Before Desmond could answer, his phone started ringing. He reluctantly let go of her to grab his phone from his coat pocket.

He glared at Elsa once before answering the phone.

"Greg, what's the update?"

"Everything seems to be under control but for safety and pleasure reasons, I think you should spend the night at the penthouse with your wife." Greg grinned. "So, did you get any action yet?"

Desmond scoffed at his best friend's question. "You have way too much free time, don't you?"

"Oh come on, I have men scattered all over the area and building to make sure no one disturbs you both tonight," he added. "Even the Marino guy sent over his thugs. Who by the way looks very scary."

"Let me know if anything comes up." Desmond ignored his question before hanging up the call.

What action could he and Elsa possibly get when both of them couldn't even stand each other.

They had met a couple of times in the last seven days and had ended up arguing or fighting both times.

He looked at Elsa who was still standing with her back pressed against the wall. How were they supposed to spend their entire life together when they couldn't even talk to each other without snapping?

"I'll sleep on the couch." Elsa took off her heels and tossed it aside before walking towards the couch.

Desmond grabbed her arm. "Take the room, the couch will be uncomfortable."

"That's alright, I would rather sleep in discomfort than rolling on your bed." She tried to free her arm from his gras

p when he tightened his grip.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He frowned.

….