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“You what?” I brushed my nose over his and grinned at him. “What do you want? Tell your husband.”
“Nothing,” he whispered too quickly. He was lying.
I hummed and twisted the nub of his nipple hard, and he keened, arching his back like the perfect little slut he was. “Wives shouldn’t lie to their husbands.”
He panted harshly and threw his head back, rolling his hips even though they were touching nothing but air. My gaze slid down to his crotch, and I took in the hardness that peeked out from the leg of his briefs. The tightness of his underwear left nothing to the imagination, and intrigue prickled at me. My fingers ached to reach down and touch him like I had last night, but I didn’t.
I twisted his nipple again, earning a moan, before I let go and stood. Pleasure simmered hot in the pit of my stomach and even lower, but I ignored it because the wait would make tonight more exciting. “Get up, get dressed, and put on your makeup. Then order breakfast.”
The reverie he was currently enjoying broke and the cloudiness in his eyes dissipated. He fluttered those dark lashes at me before his brain finally caught up with the conversation. He rubbed his nipple, the glare back. He didn’t argue, though. With a simple nod, he slipped off the mattress.
Pleased, I left him to do what he needed to do as I walked toward the craft room to check if he’d taken the tumbler, only to find he hadn’t. I made a mental note and headed back downstairs to the dining room. I grabbed my laptop from my den on the way past, and when I got to the table, I opened my computer and checked my emails. I texted Derek back, too, asking him where he needed me.
Derek: Come to the casino.
Quin took half an hour, and by the time he came down, he had a fresher face with the gloss he’d had on last night and some eyeliner.
“You should go shopping today.” I stroked my chin and stared at him. “Buy some more makeup and some dresses.”
“Dresses?” he echoed, coming to a stop beside me. His brown hair was pulled up into a bun and I enjoyed it. He’d always done that when he wanted it out of the way, and it made the sharpness of his chin and jaw visible to my hungry gaze. He was delicate yet had model-like features that I’d enjoyed looking at long before Bethany packed her shit and left.
“I want to see my wife in dresses, yes. Casual, evening wear, gowns. I want them all.”
He snorted and gave me a once-over. “If you like them so much, why don’t you wear them?”
I seized him around the waist and hauled him onto my lap, a leg on each side of my thighs. He yelped, but my grip on his already bruised hips tightened so he couldn’t escape. My cock throbbed, and his added weight only made the problem worse, blood rushing south to join the rest of it and make my dick harder.
He stared at me. “Um, hi?” The nervousness in his tone said he knew exactly what he’d done wrong.
My thumb slipped under his shirt and rubbed circles on the groove of his hip, where my fingerprint bruises were already vivid. If he wasn’t careful, I would add more right now. “Your smart-ass mouth won’t be tolerated, Princess. You’re my wife. You’ll be respectful and loyal.” I reached around him and grabbed my wallet on the table beside my laptop. I flipped it open and tugged out a credit card, passing it to him. “The card has no limit. Buy whatever you want, but if you continue your insolence, I’ll make sure you don’t get any more of my money again. Am I clear?”
He stared at the piece of plastic like it had grown teeth. “Okay?”
“You say yes, Husband.”
His gaze shot up to mine and he smiled, though not very genuinely. “Yes, Husband.”
I smacked him on the ass with enough force to drive him against me, and he froze, a gasp slipping from his delectable lips.
“Oh,” he whispered, a flush spreading across his cheeks. I didn’t miss the feel of his firm cock against my stomach and the way it jerked as soon as my palm met his asscheek.
Smugness curled inside me, but I held in the urge to show it to him. I refused to acknowledge his reaction. “Breakfast?”
He huffed and shoved to his feet, and I let him go, focusing back on my laptop screen.
“What are you doing?” he asked, stalking over to the kitchen counter where his phone was on the charger. I never understood why he left it downstairs, but from what Bethany had said, it was something to do with keeping distractions out of the bedroom while he slept. I assumed his nursing and mental health classes had influenced his choice.
“Work,” I answered simply, frowning at the casino profits chart in front of me.
“It’s a Saturday. You should be relaxing.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Now you do sound like a wife.” I glanced up in time to see him frown before his attention shot back to his phone.
“What do you want to eat?” He leaned against the counter and began to type on his phone. “We can have breakfast burritos. They’re really yum.”
“That’s fine,” I murmured noncommittally, yet I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Even dressed in a pair of tight-fitting black pants and a simple pink T-shirt that clung to his lean build, he was beautiful and feminine in all the right ways. I wanted to eat him all up now, but I knew that if I got started, we’d be stuck here all day. “Maybe if I have time, I could meet you later for clothes shopping. See you in some of those pretty dresses, hmm?”
He peeked at me and a flush stole across his cheeks again. He shrugged a shoulder before something passed over his face, almost as though his role was sliding into place. The perfect wife was back. “I’d like that, Husband.”
