Marco looked like he was seconds away from passing out. “No. No. We arenotskipping over this. A piercing? There is no way?—”
“Oh, there is a way,” I said sweetly. “A dick piercing, a slutty thigh tattoo, and a wife who saidyes.”
“Wife,” Callum whimpered under his breath. My pussy spasmed at the sound of it coming from that perfect Scottish brogue, all rough and sensual.
Kimi, bless him, just grabbed the last wine bottle and refilled everyone’s glasses with quiet dignity while Lucy clutched hisarm in horror and delight, still blushing so hard she could’ve powered the lights in the whole vineyard. She wasn’t even trying to play it cool. She perched on a barstool as Kimi moved to stand behind her, one hand resting on her hip, the other casually braced on the counter beside her glass.
Then he leaned in and smiled into her neck, whispering something to her.
Not a teasing smile or his usual grin that was reserved for podiums and pranks and grid gremlins chaos. No, this one was softer, like he'd already decided she was his and didn’t feel the need to announce it.
It was the kind of smile that meant he was ruined for anyone else. I knew that smile, probably better than anyone.
And when Lucy tilted her head to the side and leaned back into him, like it was the most natural thing in the world?
Yeah. They knew. They both knew.
We all did.
I arched a brow at them but let it slide. They were going to have their own shitstorm blow their way if that relationship ever went anywhere. There were enough secrets tangled between the six of us to weave a whole new tartan.
Callum’s fingers shifted further under my dress, trailing lightly along the edge of my lace panties beneath the table. High enough to make me bite my lip, but not quite high enough to satisfy. His wedding ring brushed against the inside of my thigh. A reminder that I was his now, bound in every capacity.
“You’re lucky you’re such a good girl, Mrs. Fraser,” he murmured in that gravelly hushed tone that had me melting. Reserved just for me, quiet enough no one else could hear. My name in his mouth.My name.
No, not mine.His. Ours.
I almost blacked out.
“And if you’re not,” he went on, wicked and unhurried, “I have a spreader bar with your name on it the second we get back. One punishment for every time you disobey yourhusbandtonight.”
Heat roared up my spine. I blinked slowly, mouth parted, breath hitching as I curled deeper into his lap, legs shifting under the table. That word—husband—rattled something loose inside me. Something primal.
Submission settled into my bones like marrow.
The spreader bar.
We used it two nights ago. Not for punishment, but for pleasure. For worship. For the way he’d knelt at the edge of the bed and kept me open for his mouth, his hands, his filthy praise. For the way he made me weep with how tender he could be—while still wrecking me completely.
And now he wanted to use it topunishme?
Putain.
Yes please. Immediately, sir.
“Bloody hell,” Ivy muttered. “Can you two at leasttryto look like newlyweds and not…” She gestured at us, lips curling in mock disgust, “whatever the fuck that was?”
“What evenwasthat look?” Lucy whispered. “I feel like I need a holy water spritz.”
Kimi took a sip of wine. “I feel like I need a cigarette.”
Marco smirked. “I feel like I need a pen and notebook.Some of us are trying to study greatness.”
Callum let out a dark, amused breath. I tried not to shiver as it fanned over my skin, but it just made my clit pulse instead.
“You need Jesus,” Ivy told Marco, plucking a cork off their table and tossing it at him.
“I need a tutorial,” Marco countered. “With diagrams and possibly a harness.”
