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Of course it matters, the fuck?
I sat up, pulling the luxurious sheets with me to cover myself from his hungry eyes as he looked to me for an answer to his question.
Iwashungry, but hesitated to say yes, because who the fuck knew what that would entail?
“Nala… you good?”
“I’m fine,” I snapped, but he was already striding in the direction of the bed, dick swaying in front of him with every move.
He pressed his hands to the bed as he leaned onto it, getting into my space. “You sure? ’Cause you seem a little grumpy and I thought I’d already fucked all of that out of you.”
I rolled my eyes, moving away as he laughed. “Trust me, I’ll always find some vexation fromsomewherejust for you,husband.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“How in the world else should I be?” I asked, looking back to find he’d fully climbed on the bed now and was barely inches away from me.
“You could settle in and get comfortable. Take advantage of the perks.Relax.”
“Last time I thought I could relax, I ended up having to get married to keep something that was supposed to belong to me anyway,” I reminded him.
He sighed. “Okay. I get that.But… you don’t have to worry about that kind of shit now. Nobody is fucking you over while you belong to me.”
“The fact that Ibelong to youis part of mycurrentfucking over, are you crazy?”
“You’re surrounded by luxury and peace, with an unlimited bank account at your disposal, and have a man willing lick any and all parts of your body at your discretion. A lot of people would kill to be ‘fucked over’ this way.”
I rolled my eyes.
Again.
“Is this the billionaire’s wife version of ‘there’s a kid in the world starving somewhere while you complain about the meatloaf’?”
He grinned and nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Sterling. It is. Now, I ask you again, before I go downstairs to prepare something for myself,are you hungry?”
He held my gaze, unwavering, while moisture built between my legs again.
“Yes,” I answered, more to get him away from me than anything.
Before he smelled the arousal on me and pounced.
I ignored his whistled appreciation of my naked body, hurriedly closing the door behind me once I’d successfully made it to the bathroom. And it took entirely too much effort not to smile.
Literally disgusting.
I took my time in the bathroom, showering away the smell of him, brushing the taste of him from my mouth. The lingering feeling?
I couldn’t do anything about that.
Once the rest of my routine was done, I took a little inventory of my hair.
It would’ve been so much simpler to keep it pressed.
I couldn’t front though, his admiration of that particular featurehadbeen thrilling in those moments. Yet another reason to be disgusted with myself.
Instead of leaving it out, I braided it into two thick cornrows to pin up at the back of my head.
Petty?
