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"But I don’t want to sleep, I’d rather—" She rocks her pelvis into the crotch of my sweatpants. No surprise there. Of course I’m aroused. Doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it.
"This is about you, baby. I need to make up for all the times I’ve been an asshole to you."
"Hmm." She fits her core over the bulge, and my knees threaten to buckle. I manage to stay upright and try to school my expression into one of disapproval. She merely curves those beautiful lips, then pushes her breasts into me. Her nipples are little bullets of delight that threaten to tear into my flesh. A wound I’d accept gladly. "I prefer you be an asshole in bed. In fact…" She tilts her head. "Part of your appeal is that you are this mean, moody, glowering, grumpy alphahole."
I laugh. "Only, I’ve promised myself I’m going to change. You deserve to be treated like the queen you are. You deserve to have all of your wishes fulfilled. You deserve to have a life where you can get anything you want. I promise you, I’ll ensure no one ever hurts you again, including me. I promise to protect and love and cherish you, and keep you in the style you deserve. I promise—"
"To fuck me?"
I smile wider. "Not today."
Her lips turn downward.
"Let me indulge you, baby. Let me show you how good I can make you feel."
"Since you’re being so persuasive…" She hesitantly releases her grip on me, and I lower her to the floor. Then, I reach for her cardigan and slide it off her shoulders, followed by her T-shirt, then her pink sweatpants. When she stands naked in front of me, except for her bra and panties made of some frothy pink lace, I almost forget about my promise. Almost. This time, I’m not going to be greedy. This time, I’m focused on her to the exclusion of everything else. When I’m with her, my needs don’t count. The only thing that counts is her.
I nod toward her lingerie, a question in my eyes.
She swallows, then nods. I reach behind her and unhook her bra, which slithers to the floor. Then, I loop my fingers into the waistband of her panties and glide them down her silky, thick thighs. She steps out of them. I glance up at the prettiest pink pussy ever. I know now how it tastes. Know how it feels to have her tight hole squeezing down on my cock. Know how she makes those little noises when she comes. I lean in until my nose brushes her cunt. I draw in a deep breath, and my head spins. My balls tighten. If I smell her one more time, I will snap and take her right here. I rise to my feet, then scoop her up in my arms and into the bath. She sighs, then leans back against the special bath pillow I placed earlier to protect her neck.
Bit by bit, her muscles relax. "This is nice."
"It’s going to get nicer."
I head out and return a few minutes later with an ice bucket in which nestles a bottle of champagne. I place it next to the bath, then hand her Kindle over.
Her gaze widens. "Wow, you want me to read in the bath?"
"I believe it’s the one thing all of you readers agree on is the most relaxing thing in the world?" I pop the cork on the champagne and pour it into the two flutes I managed to carry, as well.
She takes the glass I offer. "You think of everything."
"Just getting started, baby."
We clink glasses. She takes a sip and makes a noise of satisfaction which goes straight to my cock. Sweat breaks out on my forehead, and it’s not only because it’s warm in the space. I take in her lush curves, how her nipples peek out through the bubbles, the flare of her hips and the flash of her thigh as she bends her knee, and it sends a pulse of such agonizing lust through my body that I have to shake my head to clear it. When I look at her again, she’s staring at me with a question in her eyes.
"You okay?"
I chuckle. "Never been better." I sink down to my knees next to the bathtub, then cup some of the water and pour it over her breasts. She shivers. I trace my finger down to her belly button, and she gasps. "I thought you weren’t going to fuck me?"
"Doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you feel good, baby. Part your legs for me."
She does.
"Now go back to reading." I jerk my chin toward her Kindle.
She blinks. "You’re kidding, right?"
"I want you to have the full experience."
"What’s that?"
"Having an orgasm and at the hands of your real-life husband, while you’re reading your spicy Dramione inspired fiction."
She swallows, and her eyes glitter with unshed tears.
"What’s wrong?"
