My husband gives his head a little shake and gestures for me to come closer, not caring if I overhear his conversation.
“It’s happening on Tuesday,” he says as I set the plate on the desk. Rather than sit across from him, I sit in Julian’s lap when he scoots back, giving me room. His hand lands on my hip, and I rest my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent of cedarwood and leather, and nothing feels better than the warmth of his body holding mine.
Okay, I lied.
The orgasms this man has given me over the past week areincredible. He knows my body better than I do, and hasn’t been shy about taking me wherever he wants me. Kitchen, piano, outside on the patio under the stars ... nothing is off limits.
And I’m lapping it up like a kitten with cream.
“Tuesday at midnight,” he confirms, and kisses the top of my head. “Forty million. You heard me. I’ll have six men there. Yes, just six. Draco is heading this, and he’s the best I have, next to Jack. He’s got it handled.”
He hangs up and sets the phone down before wrapping his arms around me and hugging me to him.
“Did you have fun today?” he asks.
“Yeah, I think Lulu is actually my friend.” I blink up at him. “I really like her.”
“Why does it surprise you that she’d be your friend, Angel?”
“Because I don’t have friends. Well, except for you. I was never allowed to get close to people. So, this is new. And I like it.”
I might have said too much. I don’t want my husband to pity me.
“You were a prisoner, not part of a family,” he says, shaking his head, and then he sees the bandage on my finger and scowls. “What’s this?”
“I shredded my finger instead of cheese.” His eyes jump to mine, and I offer him a little shrug. “Now I know not to do that.”
“I don’t like you being hurt,” he says before he kisses my finger, right over the bandage.
That comment makes me giggle, and he narrows his eyes at me.
“You torture men for a living, and my little cut makes you uncomfortable?”
He tips his head to the side, considering my comment, and then he simply nods. “Yes.”
I laugh and kiss his cheek. “I brought you cookies. I helped bake them, and I’m pretty sure they won’t kill you.”
“Onlyprettysure?”
I press my lips together, enjoying this lighthearted side of my husband. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure.”
“I try not to put myself in danger at home, but I’ll risk it for you.” He reaches out to grab a cookie and takes a bite, and his eyebrows climb in surprise. “Delicious. And all mine. We’re not sharing these with anyone.”
With a smile, I brush my fingers into the hair at his nape. “They’re all for you, greedy man.”
“Mm.” The groan is full of satisfaction as he returns the uneaten portion to the plate and then moves it to a side table, clearing the top of the desk. Standing with me in his arms, he sets me on the desk. “You know what’s even more delicious”—he presses his lips to my neck—“and also all mine?”
“What?” My eyes close as I tip my head back, giving him more access. Iloveit when he bites my neck. I have all kinds of marks on me from the past week, and I love every single one.
“My wife.” He grazes his nose along my jawline as his hand cups my pussy through the leggings I’m wearing. “And this pussy.”
Suddenly, the crotch of my leggings is ripped, and cool air hits my already heated core just as his finger brushes through my slit.
“Fuck, baby.” Julian sits in his chair, scoots forward, and with his hands on my ass, he pulls my pussy to his face and licks me, from entrance to clit. “Better than cookies.”
“Oh God.” I’m resting back on one elbow and plunge my hand in his hair, holding on as he works me over. “You’re so good with your mouth.”
He hums, his fingers dig into the globes of my ass, and I know they’ll leave bruises.
