3.

~ This was so easy. So easy to fall back into his wife and family, Arthur wondered what kind of life he had been living without them. He had missed his convenient wife and daughter terribly, but he wondered now how he had found his way through day to day existence without them.

Ariadne felt more wonderful than he remembered. Her hair, her body, her lips were like returning to some pleasing food he had needed to live. His blood snapped hotly in his body as he lowered her onto the bed and she protested weakly as his hands wandered down to the sensible slacks she was wearing.

"I see you've become even more of a modern woman." he teased as he tried to find the zipper that pulled them apart.

Ariadne was too much perfection with her everyday blouse off and her lacy slip covering her delicate body as he finally found the seam to her pants and unzipped them.
"Arthur." she said as his hands were pulling her free of clothing and he could feel her unbuttoning his shirt in turn.

It was like something had been restored. Something he had learned to do without for a long time and now that it was finally back, it was like the first time.
"I want you." he whispered as her body felt perfect under his.

He could already feel his own excitement start to build for her and wondered if it would be unseemly to press his hardness onto her. Let her know exactly what he wanted. Perhaps she might respond favorably, or fly into a rage. He never knew with Ariadne.

"I'm still mad at you." she was saying as he kissed her.
"I know." he agreed as her hands wandered up to the collar of his jacket. Pulling it off him.

He allowed his jacket to shed off him like the useless fabric it was just now.
"I just..." she mewed as he knew just how to distract her. He had to distract her. Get her to stop being so angry with him and remind her of all they had; all they could have again.

"Arthur..." she panted hotly as he was kissing her over and over again. His lips, unable to stop.
"Wait." she breathed.

She tried to push him off, but his hands were over hers in an instant. Easily pinning them down as she stared back at him defiantly.
"This doesn't solve our problems." she said breathlessly. Her cheeks pink from all their kissing and removal of clothing.
"It can solve a few things." he decided. And went to kiss her again.
"Stop." she said.

Arthur halted his advancement, gave her an amused look and kissed the delicate flesh of her wrist. Just below where his hands were holding her down.

She let out a long sigh and looked helplessly up at him. Her eyes larger than normal as she seemed especially vulnerable just now.
"Alight." he capitulated and moved off her, letting her arms go.
"No!" she gasped in horror and pulled him back.

A title wave of self satisfaction rushed over him as he moved back over her. His body molding neatly on top of hers and his hands encircling her wrists again.

Ariadne looked relived to be back in her captive position as he examined her pretty face.

Two hard and difficult years had gone by, but she was still his wife. Still the girl in that gray traveling suit with a ridiculous hat that he had married. Still the woman he had bedded and still Olivia's mother.
"I want you back." he whispered. "I want my wife and my daughter back."

He wasn't prepared to let them go again. Ariadne could be stubborn, but he would not allow another second to pass without them.

"No." she whispered.
"I'm your husband." he insisted and kissed her as she lightly resisted her restraints.

"No... I... I won't marry you." she told him.

"Yes, you will." he told her.
"No, I won't!" she said and tried to keep the laughter from her eyes.
"You will." he told her and kissed her again.
"Arthur, stop." she panted as he lingered on her neck and ears the way he knew she liked.
"Say you'll be my wife again." he said as he felt her body squirm deliciously under him.

"No." she panted as she obviously enjoyed his torments.
"Say you'll marry me or I'll stop." he threatened and pulled away from her slightly.
"Arthur!" she cried out and refused to let him leave.

He felt full of pride that he had some power over her. That he could manipulate her just as she did him. Although her powers tended to bewitch him to the extreme.

"Arthur, why have you allowed your factories to be run so badly?" she asked him as he settled himself over her again.

Arthur had to stop and look at her. He wasn't expecting that question at all.

"What?" he asked.
"I read in the papers about the rioting and how you're abusing the workers." she told him.

Arthur moved away from her then and she looked at him intently.

"Who's running your factories and why are you letting them do that?" she asked.
"No one runs my factories but me, madam." he said coldly. "No one forces my workers there. I pay them the money they agreed to work for before they were hired. They agreed to work these hours. They have the freedom to quit any time."

"You pay them slave wages!" she accused.
"They are free to find other jobs!" he said feeling defensive. "The war means there is a lot of money to be made. When there is money to be made, that means there is jobs for immigrants. That is why they come to this country!"

"But you don't pay them enough! You've been hording profits for yourself!" she said angrily.
"If I turn a profit, the company profits and grows. More jobs, more growth. The workers will profit as the company profits. You don't understand business, madam." he told her.
"I understand plenty, sir, and I don't want your money." she told him as she rolled away from him and searched for her blouse and feminist slacks.
"What?" he growled.
"I don't want your monthly allowance you've been sending to me. I thought it was a living expense from my late husband's estate. Not blood money from a soulless tycoon who makes his living off the hard work and suffering of the poor, all the while keeping them poor!" she accused.

"That money I send to you is for my wife and my daughter to live comfortably." he growled.
"I'm not your wife and we both know Olivia isn't your daughter!" she snarled as she threw on her blouse.
He glared at her. His eyes growing cold. A deep wound penetrating his body as a horrible hurt started to grow.
"Never say that to me again." he said in a voice a dark as pitch.

He could tell she wanted to say it again. Just to prove she could. But she knew it would be stepping over the line.
"Olivia is my child. She was born my child, she will die my child. She will never know about... that other man. Do you understand?" he growled.

Ariadne refused to look at him.
"Think whatever you want against me, but you will not deny me my child, Ariadne." he threatened.
Arthur took a step back to collect himself.

He felt wounded by the truth of not being Olivia's real father. She was his. She was his little girl since the day she was born and peeked out at him through her blankets. She was his from the moment he saw her and was so scared Ariadne was going to die. So scared he would have to care for that baby alone.
"Olivia is my daughter, you are my wife." he said as he shrugged on his coat. "I have errands to run, but I'll be back for dinner tonight. You can tell our daughter I was away at work all this time, but I will see her."

Arthur tried to control his anger as he left his beautiful, maddening, idealistic, headstrong, irresistible, convenient wife alone.