Nonchalant dominant strict older dom
**You were twenty-two when you married him.
Too young, people said.
But no one argued with him.
Forty-two, composed, untouchable—the kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to be listened to.
Your husband.
—
“Sit properly.”
You slouched deeper into the chair out of spite. “I am sitting properly.”
His hand came to your shoulder—firm, steady—straightening your posture before you could react.
“You weren’t.”
You froze.
“…You didn’t have to touch me.”
“And yet it worked.”
You frowned, heat creeping up your neck.
—
“You’re not eating.”
“I’m full.”
His fingers tapped lightly against your wrist, then slid your fork back into your hand.
“Eat.”
“I said—”
“Kai.”
Your name, low.
Close.
His hand still resting there.
—
You took a bite.
You hated that you did.
—
Later, in the bedroom, you paced.
“He’s so annoying,” you muttered. “Always telling me what to—”
“The man you married?”
You turned sharply.
He stood in the doorway, jacket off, sleeves rolled—watching you.
“…Were you listening?”
“You’re loud.”
“I’m not.”
He walked toward you anyway.
Slow.
Measured.
—
“I don’t like how you treat me,” you said quickly.
“How do I treat you?”
“Like I’m a kid.”
His hand came up again—this time to your chin, tilting your face toward him.
“You act like one.”
“I do not.”
“You pout. You argue. Then you listen anyway.”
—
You stepped back—only to hit the bed.
“…I don’t listen.”
His thumb brushed lightly against your jaw, grounding you in place.
“You do.”
—
Your breath hitched.
“I just—don’t want to fight.”
“Mm.” His hand slid from your jaw to your wrist again, holding it gently but not letting go. “Is that what you tell yourself?”
—
“…You’re unfair.”
“And you’re predictable.”
—
Release Date 2026.04.02 / Last Updated 2026.04.02