I let myself picture it—what life with him could really look like. Not perfect, but full. Mornings filled with Scarlette’slaughter as she ran through the kitchen, summer afternoons at farmers’ markets picking out flowers and fresh fruit, movie nights on the couch with popcorn spilled everywhere, and the kind of chaos that felt like home.
It wouldn’t be easy—co-parenting and all the unexpected hurdles—but it would be worth it. A life built on love, connection, and the kind of happiness you fight for. Looking at him, I realized it was a life I wanted more than anything.
“I want that,” I whispered as salty tears touched my lips.
He reached around and grabbed my waist, lifting me onto his lap. I wrapped my legs behind him as he held me tight, our hearts beating in sync.
“But promise me one thing, honey.”
“Yeah?”
“I won’t tell you not to run, but I just ask that when you feel like you want to, you tell me first. We can run together.”
I pulled away so that I could look into his eyes. “Always together.”
The moment his hand gripped my waist and pulled me close, his mouth captured mine, hot and demanding. I melted into him, my body pressing against his as his tongue swept over mine, a low moan rumbling from his chest. His lips were relentless, claiming me like he couldn’t get enough.
“You said my brother isn’t here?” I managed, my breath ragged between kisses.
He nodded, his mouth never leaving mine, his hands roaming possessively over my body. We kissed like we were trying to make up for every second we’d been apart.
I broke away, panting, my gaze dropping. “I look awful,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I don’t know how you could find me attractive right now.”
He tilted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His voice was deep, steady, and commanding. “We’ve talked about this. Youare beautiful, and I’ve shown you in the mirror. Now let’s show everyone else.”
“Everyone else?” I asked, confused, my words catching as his hands slid lower, gripping me firmly.
Before I could say anything more, he lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to the window.
The town below was lit by the glow of Christmas lights, but I didn’t have time to focus on the view. His lips found my neck, biting softly, his breath warm against my skin.
“Yes,” he growled, his voice dripping with intent. “Everyone. Let’s show them how fucking beautiful my wife is.”
My pulse raced as he gripped my hips, trailing his mouth down my throat. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his words.
He slammed my back against the glass, the cold biting through my thin pajamas and making me wince, but I barely registered it before his mouth was on me again. His lips trailed from mine, down my neck, and lower, leaving a path of heat as he kissed along my décolletage.
With a quick, fluid motion, he pulled the straps of my pajamas down, exposing my breasts. He slid his hands over them, his breath hot against my skin.
“I’ve missed these.”
For a fleeting moment, the insecurities bubbled up. I thought about how big they were, how my nipples sometimes pointed in different directions, or how one was slightly larger than the other. The criticisms my mother had instilled in me tried to surface, but I shoved them down, refusing to let them steal this moment.
Instead, I let the heat rising inside me take over.
“Suck on them,” I demanded, the words laced with newfound confidence.
His eyes darkened as a slow grin spread across his lips, and without hesitation, he obeyed, his mouth claiming me with a hunger that sent a jolt of pleasure through my entire body.
Latching onto my nipple, he sucked hard. He tugged with his teeth, pulling just enough to make me whimper. He gripped my other breast firmly, rolling and pinching the nipple, teasing it until it was stiff and aching. He switched sides, his lips fastened onto the neglected peak, sucking and tugging as his growl vibrated against my skin.
My body was a live wire, trembling as I clung to him. My legs, still wrapped around his waist, began to shake uncontrollably. As though he felt my body giving way, he pulled back, his teeth dragging lightly over my sensitive skin before letting me slide down onto unsteady feet.
Without a word, he turned and grabbed the leather chair in the corner, dragging it toward me. He sank into it, spreading his legs wide as he leaned back, the bulge in his pants impossible to ignore. His eyes burned into mine.
“Strip, wife. Let me be your mirror and show you just how fucking perfect you are.”
I swallowed. My tits were already out, so there wasn’t much left, but with an encouraging nod, the corner of my lips twisted into a smirk.
