“Luca, why do you keep—”
“Does it arouse you, wife? Does it make your cunt wet?”
“Yes.” The word is a rushed, breathless confession. I feel my pulse spike as I react instantly to the sound of her surrender.
Heryes.
“But I hate that word,” she whispers, her chest heaving.
“You don’t like it when I say cunt?”
She shakes her head. “I do not.”
“What word do you prefer, my love?”
She’s nervous now. I can see the goosebumps blooming across her skin, tracking down the elegant line of her neck.
“Use your words, Aspen,” I command, my voice dropping into a low, vibrato growl that vibrates in my chest. And my dick. “Speak.”
She swallows hard, her eyes finally locking onto mine with a raw, unfiltered honesty. “My pussy. It’s...Mypussy. And yes, it’s wet, husband.”
“Bloody hell,” I ground out through gritted teeth, the sheer bluntness of it making me un-fucking-well. “Then why are you standing so far away?”
“Because—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupt, my gaze locked on hers. “You can say it.”
She shifts, her fingers twisting restlessly at her sides as if she’s trying to ground herself. “How do you even know what I’m going to say?”
“Funny thing about us, Ms. Mysterious,” I murmur, a ghost of a smirk pulling at my lips. “I swear I could feel you through that pod wall in Vegas. I could read your body from across the wall without even seeing your face. Your skin calls to mine, Aspen. Your body whispers for me. It always has.”
She takes a shallow, shaky breath. “And now? What is it saying to you now?”
“Come here,” I command. “Stand in front of me.”
She obeys, and it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. My wife, finally surrendering her ground. She’s wearing a red jogging suit that clings to every curve, giving me a vivid map of everything I’ve been denied, but it’s not enough. I need to see all of her.
“Strip,” I say shortly. “Take off your clothes.”
She pauses, her eyes darting toward the hallway.
“The cameras are gone,” I reassure her, the grin spreading across my face. “No one is watching.”
I’ll tell her about the security feeds inside the apartment some other time. Right now, I only care about the view in front of me.
“But…the windows,” she whispers, gesturing toward the floor-to-ceiling glass that surrounds my apartment. “There are so many.”
“Does the idea of being watched scare you, Aspen?”
“I don’t want to be watched. I don’t want anyone to see.”
I reach for the remote on the side table and click a button. Instantly, the motorized blackout blinds descend from the ceiling, sealing us into a private, dimly lit oasis.
Her eyes go wide as the room plunges into shadow. “I never knew those were there.”
“You never asked.”
“Are there any other secrets you’re keeping from me?”
