“We can share a bed. It doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you.” I glanced down at her again. “Unless you beg me.”
“I’m not sure…”
I set her down gently and couldn’t believe how I had tossed her on the bed on our wedding night. She sank into the mattress. Her glazed eyes studied my room.
“You can do whatever you want with our bedroom, just don’t paint it pink.”
“Kirill, we need to talk about this, but not right now.” Her shoulders drooped. “I need to put my head down.”
I crouched in front of her so we were eye to eye. “Sleep.”
Her eyes squinted. “You’re not going to take advantage?”
I offered her my blandest look. “I may be many things, but a pervert I’m not.” Then I smirked. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try and seduce you.”
She missed my not so thinly veiled threat. “You should have taken me to my room so I could be more comfortable.”
I liked seeing my suit jacket warming her up, and I couldn’t wait for more of my clothing to touch her skin. It was one of the reasons I brought her to my room. I got up and walked over to the dresser and grabbed an old faded tee.
My sister, in one of her ramblings about romance, revealed to me that a girl wearing her man’s T-shirt was extremely romantic. Aralina might have blackmailed me into watching a rom-com at that time. My sister was sweet, but she could also be manipulative. And I couldn’t believe I was relying on my past conversations with her to determine what I should do with my wife.
Lucy was already curled up on her side. My eyes tracked the outline of her body. Her skirt had ridden up under her ass. I was very tempted to slide my hand between her thighs and touch her in a place I had only ventured once before. The taste of her during our engagement dinner was seared into my brain. But I blocked the memory of her delicious cunt for my sanity.
Not anymore. I was going to fuck my wife.
Sadly, not while she was drunk. Not for the first time, at least. Not until we’d established that a physical relationship was going to be part of our marriage.
She popped one eye open. “I’m comfortable.”
“No, you’re not.” I was thankful for my forgiving trousers because my cock, which had been semi-erect on the ride home, was rapidly thickening. I helped Lucy into a sitting position once again.
And with clinical efficiency, I removed her top.
She gasped and crossed her arms over her tits, but I quickly slipped my shirt over her head. Then I snapped the hooks of her bra behind her before I stood her up.
While she slipped her bra out of the armholes, I unzipped her skirt and pulled it down.
“You’re an expert at this.”
I chuckled. “The bra part maybe.”
And then, for my sanity, because Lucy was looking very soft and alluring, I guided her under the blankets.
“Oh my God, this feels so much better.” She propped her cheek on her clasped hands.
“Told you.” I squared my shoulders and thought about something else other than crawling in beside her. “Do you want water?”
“Please.”
I texted Sorcha to bring up a pitcher of water while I walked to the mini-bar for something stronger. A drink that would knock me out so I wouldn’t end up balls deep in my wife while she was asleep. Somnophilia had its appeal, but I’d rather my partner was aware what was going to happen.
I wasn’t going to fuck my wife while she didn’t have full control of her faculties unless we’d discussed this kink beforehand.
A tap on the door let me know Sorcha had arrived. When I opened it, my housekeeper peered behind me.
“I put her shoes in her room,” she said.
I reached for the tray carrying the pitcher. “I’m not about to defile an innocent virgin, Sorcha. You can wipe that look off your face.”
