“Drink the water and use the bathroom. Then meet me in your bedroom.”
I love how he ignored my question.
He tugs the t-shirt over his head and places it in my hand.
“What do you want me to do with your shirt?”
“Put it on.”
I chuckle. “No. I’m not one of your little women you fuck who can’t wait to wear your t-shirt.”
“Put it on or wear nothing. And don’t take a shower.”
“Nico, I’ve been dancing all night.”
He pulls me close and bites down on my shoulder blade. “I know. Tonight, I want to smell your delicious cunt, not your expensive soap.”
My thighs squeeze together at his words. “So just the water from the bidet?”
“Serenity, you’re so technical sometimes.”
I disappear in the bathroom. After I remove my clothes, I sit on the toilet and relieve myself. A moan slips past my lipsbecause it feels so good to pee. Then I turn on the shower, grab the wand, and douse my pussy with warm water.
The door flies open. His whiskey eyes drink me in.
“You could knock,” I grit out. I struggle to hold his gaze, fighting the urge to let my eyes wander to his hardened shaft.
I see he didn’t waste time getting undressed.
“I wanted to make sure you’re following my orders. Are you getting off on the shower wand?”
I smack my lips. “Not tonight. I’m washing away any remnants of urine.”
He growls, “I want my fix.” Nico snatches a towel off the rack. He pats my pussy dry then tosses it on the floor.
Tugging my hand, he leads me into my bedroom and grabs his t-shirt off the dresser.
“I’m not wearing your t-shirt, Nico.”
He halts in front of my bed and shoves the shirt over my head. He continues pushing my arms through the sleeves. Nico takes his time freeing my hair from the ponytail and fanning my straightened hair over my shoulders.
A scowl morphs on his handsome face. “Why did you straighten your hair?”
“To switch it up. I don’t want to wear it wavy or in curls all the time.”
He pushes the shirt up, exposing my large ass cheeks, hips, pussy, and thick thighs.
“Fuck, you're perfect,” he mutters under his breath.
“Only you think that.”
He meets my gaze. “I see and hear guys talk about your fat ass and thick thighs in passing. I want to shove my fist through their throats for lusting after you. They want to desperately know what it feels like to be between your legs. I won’t let that happen.”
“So they just want to fuck me because I’m not skinny and the lower half of my body is thicker?”
“I’m saying they want what’s mine,” he slurs.
I glance around his broad frame, noticing the bottle of whiskey on the nightstand. “Nico, what’s wrong?”
