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"I carried you instead; deal with it."
"And how did you know that I had to, you know—"
"Urinate?" He smirks. "You can say it. It’s a bodily function, just like fucking. Or would you prefer if I said fornicating?"
I scowl, "If you think you can throw clinical words my way to fluster me, then you are sadly mistaken."
"Good." His grin widens. He widens his stance and I don’t dare look straight ahead…because, uh! I am at the exact same height as his big, fat dick, that I know is standing to attention against his belly right now. Yeah, okay, I peeked. I couldn’t help it. It’s right there in front of me. Also, since we had woken up, he had pressed that monster shaft against me, so I am well familiar with its length and its—gulp—girth, which is bloody impressive, I’ll have you know.
"What are you doing still standing here?" I murmur. "I need tourinate."
"So go."I gape at his smirking face. "Not in front of you."
He folds his arms across his chest, and his stance indicates…he’s not moving. Okay, whatever, like I care if he sees me pee.
I close my eyes, try to relax…but hell, I can’t go. Not when Mr. Monster Cock is standing over me like Satan himself.
"Turn your back," I say through gritted teeth, "else I won’t be able to."
I sense him hesitate, then feel the slight breeze as he pivots around. To my surprise, I hear him move away. I open my eyes, and sure enough, the space is empty. I sigh as I settle into place, and almost instantly, my muscles relax enough so I can let go. I finish my business, flush, wash my hands and face, smooth my hair the best I can, then hesitate. I take in my naked body, so very pale, except for the thin streak of red in between my breasts.
In a way, we match, I suppose. Only, the wound I bestowed on him is much deeper. I raise my hand to touch the scratch and the ring on my finger catches my attention. It picks up the color from my dyed red hair, and damn it… It really does feel like it’s already part of me.
Why does he have to be so…so perceptive. Speaking of… I spin around, head for the door. "How did you know that I had to pee?" I demand. "I never told you that I wanted to."
Alphahole finishes stepping into his gray sweatpants, then turns around. "I guessed."
"You guessed?" I scowl. "How could you just guess?"
"It’s morning." He shrugs. "It’s natural to want to use the facilities after a night’s sleep." He grabs a bathrobe, then walks over to me and holds it out.
I stare at it, then up at him. "Shit," I blink, "you removed my clothes last night..."
"You only just realized that?"
"No, I mean, yes, I mean…" I shove my hair over my shoulder. I must have really been out of, it if I hadn’t even stirred when he’d undressed me.
"Your dress is safe. I’ve asked for it to be cleaned."
"Oh?" I blink rapidly at him. That’s thoughtful of him. Though why would he do that? Why is he being so nice to me?
"Relax," he laughs, "I know how much your creations mean to you and that dress was soyou… That I figured you’d want to keep it, and maybe, modify it and wear it again."
My mouth drops open. That’s exactly what I had planned to do, but how the hell is he able to read me so easily?
"Fine, fine," I grouse. "It’s what most women do—adapt their wedding dresses so they can wear them again."
"Is it?" He frowns, then raises a shoulder, "Good guess, huh?" He jerks his chin toward the dressing gown, and I slide my arms through the sleeves. I knot the tie around the middle as he runs his palms down the shoulders, in a gesture that is both soothing and possessive. Huh. What the hell is this man up to? I turn around and scowl at him, "Out with it, Mister. What are you planning now?"
"Breakfast?" He smirks. "Do you like pancakes?"
