Marriage with my daughter's father: Darling please be gentle - Chapter 242

Chapter 242: Chapter 242:No, I’m your wife

By the time dinner was over and they made it back to their room, Serene, their ever-wise little advisor offered her father a nugget of golden advice.

“Papa, you should convince Mama the way I do,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Just pepper her with kisses and tickles until she gives in.”

Kalix had never received such straightforward counsel before. It sounded almost too simple. Kisses? That was easy—he’d been doing that religiously, sneaking them in every chance he got. But tickling? That was foreign territory.

Having grown up in a world where affection was a luxury and laughter a rare sound, Kalix’s childhood had been filled with the scent of gunpowder, not giggles. Playtime meant target practice. Toys were replaced with weapons. Smiles were earned through survival.

He was a man built for strategy, precision, and dominance. Teasing he could do—especially the kind that involved licking her senseless or driving her wild with his fingers. That was his language. But playful tickles?

That was a whole other beast.

Kalix glanced at his wife across the room, who was casually selecting her nightclothes. He sighed, shaking his head at all the quiet praise he’d given himself for being clever and capable. And then—mischief sparkled in his eyes.

Without another thought, he stalked toward her with purposeful steps.

Winter, too engrossed in deciding between silk or cotton, froze when she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist. She blinked once. Then twice. And then Kalix… poked her.

Right in the waist.

She stiffened, her hand still hovering near her folded nightgown, and slowly turned her head, confusion clouding her features.

“What… are you doing?” she asked, arching a brow.

Kalix paused, caught mid-act. His hand still hung awkwardly at her side, fingers hovering like he was disarming a bomb. And then, almost proudly, he said, “Tickling?”

Winter stared blankly at him.

He blinked at her. She blinked back.

“That’s not going to work, Kalix. If that’s your plan, you might as well stop now,” she said flatly, brushing past him to grab the last piece of clothing from the bed.

“But… Serene said it always works,” Kalix replied, trailing after her like a confused puppy, genuinely baffled by his failure.

Winter stopped at the bathroom door and turned to him with a look that said seriously?

“That’s because I’m not actually ticklish,” she admitted coolly. “I just let her think she’s winning. It’s the cuteness. I surrender to that, not the tickles.”

Kalix’s expression crumbled. He looked like a man who’d just been personally betrayed by science.

Winter couldn’t help it—she almost laughed. Almost. But she was supposed to be upset, or at least pretending to be. So, she schooled her expression into impassivity, not letting even a twitch of her lips betray her.

Then, with all the dramatic flair of a woman who knew the power she held, she stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind her with a loud thud, leaving Kalix staring blankly at the wood.

Dumbfounded. Defeated. Still processing the reality that tickling wasn’t a one-size-fits-all strategy.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Winter leaned against it, pressing her palm over her mouth to muffle the laugh that threatened to escape.

Tickling?

Kalix?

She could still see the look on his face. So earnest, so confused, as if her lack of reaction had personally offended him. As if a man who could terrify a room full of underworld criminals was genuinely heartbroken that his tickles hadn’t worked.

Winter exhaled a silent laugh and turned to the mirror, her reflection catching the sparkle in her eyes. So much for staying mad.

But he didn’t need to know that just yet.

The truth was, she hadn’t even been that angry. Maybe mildly annoyed. Maybe bruised in places she wouldn’t admit out loud. But seeing him flounder over a bit of fatherly advice? That had completely unraveled her sulking mood.

Still… he deserved a little punishment. A playful one.

“Tickling,” she muttered to herself with a smirk, pulling her hair up into a loose knot. “Is that what we’re doing now, Mr. Andreas?”

Winter rolled her shoulders, feeling the silk of her robe brush against her skin as she changed. A plan began forming in her mind, one she knew would drive him absolutely insane—not with frustration, but with anticipation.

Because if there was one thing Kalix hated more than losing… it was not knowing what game he was playing.

She dabbed a touch of her favorite perfume behind her ears, deliberately slow, deliberate in every movement. The same perfume that made Kalix tilt his head and close his eyes like he was being drugged. She remembered the way his fingers always tightened when he caught a whiff of it on her skin.

Let’s see if he’d rather tickle or beg.

Winter slipped into her softest nightwear, nothing too obvious but enough to remind him of exactly what he’d be missing. Then she picked up the silk robe, tied it tight at the waist, and turned toward the door.

She’d walk out calm, unaffected. Maybe even yawn.

And when Kalix reached for her, thinking it was safe to try again?

She’d lean in close. Let her lips graze his ear.

And whisper something that would light his blood on fire.

But then, just as his hands started to wander, she’d pull away with a smirk and say something cold and casual, like

“Oh, don’t get distracted, Kalix. Weren’t you trying to tickle me?”

Winter smiled to herself, fully satisfied with the idea.

Let him think he’s in control. Let him scramble a bit. Because when it came to this game, Kalix Andreas was always one move behind.

She opened the door and stepped out into the room, a picture of cool elegance and mischief in disguise.

“Let the teasing begin.”

***

Kalix was still standing exactly where she’d left him, staring at the closed bathroom door like it had personally betrayed him.

Tickling. He really tried.

Serene had made it sound so foolproof.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply as he turned away, only to freeze when he heard the soft click of the door opening behind him.

He turned—and almost forgot to breathe.

Winter stepped out slowly, a vision of understated elegance. Her silk robe cinched snugly at the waist, the subtle scent of her perfume hitting him like a drug. Her hair was twisted up carelessly, a few strands falling loose around her face, and her skin was still dewy from the warmth of the bathroom.

But what really caught him? What made something inside him tighten was the glint in her eyes.

She was up to something.

Kalix narrowed his eyes. “You’re not mad anymore, are you?”

Winter blinked innocently. “Who said I was ever mad?”

“Oh, come on, Winter. You slammed the door like you wanted to exile me from the bedroom.”

She yawned delicately and walked over to the bed, fluffing the pillows like nothing was amiss. “I was just tired. You overthink everything.”

Kalix folded his arms, watching her. “So, we’re back to pretending, huh?”

“I don’t pretend, darling,” she replied coolly. “Unlike you, trying to poke me like I’m some stuffed toy. Tickling? Really?”

He grunted. “It worked on Serene.”

Winter gave him a slow, knowing smile as she perched on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs. “That’s because Serene’s five. I’m not so easily broken.”

Kalix stepped closer, his voice dipping. “I don’t want to break you, Angel. I want to unravel you.”

Her eyes gleamed. There he is, she thought. That familiar intensity. The man who wanted her even when she pretended to ignore him.

Winter tilted her head, as if considering. Then, she stood up and took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

“I have a challenge for you,” she said softly.

Kalix arched a brow. “Oh?”

“You want me to give in?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded slowly, his hand already lifting to rest on her waist.

She leaned up on her toes, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, her breath warm and intoxicating.

“Then earn it,” she whispered.

And just as he went to grab her, mouth already reaching for hers, she pulled back and smiled sweetly. “But be careful… I don’t surrender to tickles. I surrender to pleasure.”

Kalix stared at her, stunned for a beat.

Then he groaned. “Angel—”

But she was already turning away, crawling onto the bed with feline grace, tucking herself under the covers like the conversation hadn’t happened.

“Goodnight, husband,” she said over her shoulder, her voice laced with amusement.

Kalix clenched his jaw, trying not to laugh and curse at the same time. “You’re evil.”

Winter turned her head just enough to give him one final smirk. “No, I’m your wife. Which is worse… depending on how badly you want me tonight.”

And with that, she turned off the lamp on her side and settled into the pillows, leaving him standing there hard, hungry, and completely at her mercy.

Kalix exhaled a frustrated breath, running a hand down his face.

“Fine. No tickles,” he muttered to himself. “Tomorrow, I’m bringing out the big guns.”

From under the blanket, Winter smiled into her pillow.