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“Anything, baby.”
“Have you all ever … y’know—”
He raises his brows. “Have we ever shared a woman?” I nod. “No. We’ve had offers, but we’ve never done it.”
My scowl could burn through brick. “Offers? From whom?”
“I had a life before I married you in Vegas.”
“Really? I thought yours only began when you met me.”
“When you proposed to me,” he corrects, and I roll my eyes. That night was a blur of cocktails, kisses, and Elvis. At this point I can’t remember who proposed to whom.
“Either way, your life began with Silence.”
He smiles. “My Silence in a loud world.”
Kiss-ass. But I’m still grinning like a teenager in love as I run him through the rest of my dream.
As always, he stays with me while I get ready. Not saying much, just watching everything I do. From brushing my hair and applying lotion, to forgoing the makeup that I’ll sweat off during my shift, Zayden Silver watches me like I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.
This has always been our routine. Since the morning after we married, he would sit and watch me get ready. At first, it was just dressing, then it was showering, applying mascara … when I asked him why, he said, “I just like watching you.”
It’s the same for me. When we’re out in the world, Zayden is a pillar of strength, silence, power. He commands rooms in the way someone would command an army, and he does it with simply a look. So, when we’re alone, I feed off the moments that are just for me. Watching him shave, brush his teeth, even iron his shirts. He’s meticulous, and I devour every drop of him.
“I’m going to make a coffee. Do you want one?” he asks, standing from the bed and coming to the vanity table. I nod, and he leans down and sweeps my hair aside, kissing my neck. I angle my head to give him more access, and he kisses behind my ear. “I liked your dream, Silence.” His voice is its own aphrodisiac, and I close my eyes as he dips his hand into my robe, skimming his fingertips over my nipples. “Do you think you’re ready for that? To have someone fuck you while I watch?”
We’ve been married nine years, but it’s only been in the last two that we’ve explored this side of ourselves. We stumbled upon it, really. Zayden had booked us a hotel in the city for our anniversary, and he was running late. While I waited at the bar, a man flirted with me. I was polite, answered a few innocent questions, and had texted Zayden, teasing him that I’d replaced him.
His returning text had surprised me.
ZAYDEN: Make him think you want him.
Excitement had shot through me. I’ve always been faithful to Zayden, and him to me, and although I can appreciate an attractive man, I’d never even thought about being intimate with anyone but my husband since the night I married him.
But this … this was exciting, and new, and scary.
So, I did as Zayden asked. I flirted. Bit my lip. Leaned suggestively closer.
I drank up every drop of attention and tried not to feel too bad when Zayden arrived and smugly took me away from my new suitor.
We hadn’t bothered with our dinner reservation. Didn’t even make it to our room.
Zayden had fucked me in the elevator as I told him every detail, and I’d never come harder in my life.
Later, we’d talked about it. A lot. What it meant, or if it meant anything at all. We passed it off as an exciting experience, but I longed to do it again, and when I admitted that to Zayden, he said he did, too.
The heat between my legs increases as Zayden runs his fingertips down my stomach and between my legs. “I—I don’t know if I’m ready. Are you?”
“Yes.” He bites my earlobe. “I want to watch you come on another man’s cock.”
Desire blasts through me, and I angle my head to kiss him, to devour him, to have him fuck me over the vanity until I—
I pull back from the kiss abruptly. “Not your brothers though, right?”
Zayden grins. “Whatever makes you come hardest, baby.”
I tut and shove him away playfully.
