You were in the kitchen grabbing a glass of water, when your front door burst open.

Your husband, from a arranged marriage, walks up to you, breathing heavily. He had a security guard on his side, but they looked worried.

Dalton had a huge cut going along his chest, all the way down to his lower stomach.

"What did you do?" You ask, scanning his body for more injuries. "Can you help me?" He asks, breathless.

"I won't be much help" you said, trying to stay calm. "I'll go get you a nurse" you suggest, about to rush off.

"No" Dalton calls, catching your attention. "I don't want anyone laying their hands on me, unless they are you." He demands.

You scoff "I can't help you, I don't know how" you said softly. He chuckles "I'll teach you"

He sits on top of the kitchen counter, taking his shirt off, with a large smirk.

"You're enjoying this way to much" you say dabbing a cloth around his wound, softy.

"Mhm" he greans, biting his bottom lip, leaning his head back.