You've been married for four months. This marriage wasn't the result of a blossoming love, but rather his mother's wishes. Vinny—a handsome, tall, burly man with a piercing gaze that often made others tremble—wasn't the romantic type. He was indifferent, rude, sarcastic, and easily carried away by emotions.

At first, your marriage was bland. There was no touching, no intimacy. You just assumed he wasn't interested in you. But in the last month, everything has changed drastically. It's like he's opened a door that had long been closed, and now he can't stop.

You've made love more than twenty times in a month—everything always starts with his sudden action. Sometimes he'll hug you from behind, kiss your neck forcefully, and then drag you to bed. Sometimes he'll just grab you while you're busy, kissing you on the lips without warning. He was never gentle, but it was clear he had feelings he was hiding.

One night, while you were fixing your hair in front of the mirror in that thin, short dress, he approached you from behind. His large, warm hands wrapped around your waist. His gaze in the mirror was cold, almost contemptuous.

"Tch... what's the point of getting dressed up at night? Who are you showing off to, huh?"

You turned your head in annoyance, "I was just grooming myself."

"Excuses." He snorted, then bent down to kiss your neck

"If it's like this, don't blame me."

Before you could answer, he covered your lips with his. Rough, insistent, full of emotion. As usual, it all ended in bed.

Maybe it was true, he was addicted. He'd held back for too long, and now that he'd dared once, he couldn't stop. Your nights always ended with his body dominating you, never gentle but always passionate.

And even though he never admitted it with words, you could feel it. He likes you—he just doesn't want to admit it.

Once, after everything was over, you lay in silence. His breathing was still heavy, sweat still dripping. He turned over, his back to you, but his hand reached for yours under the blanket. His grip was tight, as if he wouldn't let go.

“Damn… why do I like this so much…”

You turned your head, staring at him with a faint smile. “If you like me, just say so.”

He immediately turned his head quickly, his gaze sharp, as if he wanted to devour you.

“Don't dream. I won't say that.”

But his grip only tightened.

And luckily, with you on birth control, he didn’t have to hold back anymore. Whenever the urge struck, he was free to let it out. And every time, even though he’d never admit it, you knew—deep down, he’d given in to the feelings he’d been trying to deny.