He’s been loving me the way I need to be loved.
Our love languages have always been different, and we’ve built around that. His was always more physical touch above all others, than the gift giving. And mine was always acts of service. Our medium, however, has always been quality time—perhaps our favorite. Mixed into all of that is a lot of mind blowing, intimate sex that leads to calm quality time while we watch one of our favorite shows or movies, or we will talk until we are dead asleep.
I think I’m obsessed with him, I just haven’t determined if it’s healthy or not. It doesn’t matter anyway.
I park my Jeep behind his obnoxious McLaren and smile when I see the garbage bins out. I eye the recycling bins overloaded with boxes, but ignore it when I hop out the car. Inside, I feel an ache in my core growing from the desire to push Christian onto our bed and ride him.
Utterly insatiable.
“Baby!” I toss my bag aside and kick my sandals off. “Christian?” I jog through the house and I’m peeling off my t-shirt, tossing it aside. “Babe?”
Nearly half naked, I come to a short stop when I find him in the kitchen. “Um… What? Why…” Christian stops cleaning the floor. “What is…” I wave my hand around the different colored boxes on the kitchen island. “…all that? Is this why there are so many boxes outside?”
Christian smirks, his eyes roaming over my torso. “Well, this is different.”
I cover my breasts in the sheer, lace bra with my arm and shoot him a look. “Christian.”
“Okay,” he sighs, coming to me. “I know you don’t like expensive things…”
I snort. “Well, I don’tnotlike them.”
Christian chuckles. “But I have… The company has this thing in New York that I have to go to…”
I blink. “I thought you were taking a sabbatical.”
“I am, but I’m still CEO.”
My eyebrows waggle a bit. “Wow, I’m fucking a CEO.”
Christian growls quietly while I laugh, and his hand wraps around my throat. I’m smiling, biting my lip, and he’s staring down at me as he says, “You aren’t just fucking me, Lana, and you know it.”
I squeeze my thighs together. “Mhhm.” His lips are pressing into mine hard, his tongue parting them with a groan. When he pulls back, I’m still smiling and I lick my bottom lip just for another taste of him. “So what did you buy me this time?”
Christian steals one last kiss before his hand lowers from my throat. “I thought you didn’t like my gifts.”
“I do. Sometimes,” I tease. “Now that you’ve learned what I like.”
“You said you didn’t like the shoes,” he points out, “but you always wear them so…”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”
He smirks and sits at the island. “Come here, baby.”
I rush over and stand between his open legs. I throw my hands around his neck, and I’mobsessedwith him. “Okay, so about this event?”
“It’s kind of like a gala,” he explains, his hands on my waist, drifting up and down my skin. “And I want you to be my date. So, I just bought you some things you can wear during our trip.”
“You bought meclothes?”
I look over at the boxes.Tom Ford. Carolina Herrera.Versace. Saint Laurent. Gucci. Prada. MiuMiu. Oscar de la Renta. Jimmy Choo. Valentino.I’m gaping at the boxes, and then I’m gaping at him. “Christian,” I breathe. “I can’t accept all of this.”
His hands move down my backside until he’s squeezing my ass gently. “You can and you will. There are shoes, dresses, some bags?—”
I groan, tears welling in my eyes. “Christian…”
“There’s a custom made gown for you,” he says. “For you to wear to the event.”
My jaw drops. “Custom made?”
