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I pondered over the question, letting it run loops in my mind as I lay curled naked into my husband’s side. My cheek on his warm chest, slumber called to me, but I fought the exhaustion.
Too engrossed in this moment, I wasn’t ready for tomorrow.
I never knew lovemaking could be so feral yet romantic. We spent hours in his dungeon. Zeno ate my pussy like it was the only nourishment he’d ever need before turning me to my hands and knees for the hardest fuck of my life. We tried all sorts of positions and he made good use of the toys available to him, making me try new things for the first time so he could learn everything that made my body sing.
I was so thankful to have broken my rule.
I was completely addicted to my husband and he to me.
After showering, he put ointment on the places where the candle wax and flogger touched me and kissed every expanse of my skin.
Now we lay together in bed.
Zeno refused to go to sleep until he finished reading one more chapter of my book.
“What’s your favourite story of mine?” I fondled his hard abs and kissed his tattooed pec.
Zeno’s hand curved over my side, stroking my ass absentmindedly. “I like them all,bella. I can’t pick one.”
That was the best compliment a writer could receive, knowing every work was appreciated. I grinned and he continued reading my story in his gruff voice, my signed paperback carefully balanced in his palm. “I think we should recreate this scene.”
He was at the part where the hero threw all his things off the desk and bent the heroine over so he could fuck her doggy style.
“Sounds good.” I turned his face towards me and nuzzled his lips with a series of pecks. “I want you to narrate all my audiobooks. You have such a deep, masculine voice. It’s soothing and sexy at the same time.”
Like a luring lullaby enticing you to cross over to the dark side.
He chuckled almost boyishly and it transformed his face. “You want me to?”
“Yes, I do.” I was joking and I loved that he played along.
“Sounds good,” he returned, kissing my forehead.
“Zeno?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“What’s your favourite colour?”
We’d been married for over two months and I still knew little about him, besides the few things he’d shared. I said I wanted to know all his secrets and I meant it. But I also wanted to know everything else in between. His favourite books, foods, movies, shows, and so on.
“What’s your favourite colour?” he countered.
I ran my fingers over his jaw, feeling his crisp stubble. God, he was so handsome with that half-mast look in his brown eyes, his black hair tousled, and his tanned face sculpted in concentration as he awaited my reply.
“I used to really like green growing up, but now I have an affinity for red.”
He hushed against my lips, “Then red is my favourite colour, too.”
Be still, my heart.“What’s your favourite meal?”
“You.”
I swatted his chest playfully and he chuckled, swiftly yanking me over his warm, muscular body. I stretched out like a feline on top of him. “I’m serious, Zeno. What’s your favourite meal?”
He clicked his tongue, pretending to be exasperated. “Shh. You’re bothering me and I’m at the part where he’s about to fuck her.” He smacked my ass, resuming his reading with an overdramatic voice, “And he burned for her—for the flesh between her legs. He couldn’t waitany longer, ripping her thong with desperate fists and shovinghis tongue straight into her—”
“Zeno!” I laughed against his jaw, tugging on his gold chain. “Tell me!”
