Fingers clutching into the sheets, I meet my husband’s thrusts. I’m telling myself to shut up, but my entire body is a tell. As my walls prepare to clamp down, holding his cock hostage, I scream, “I’m about to—”
Leith’s powerful dick pulls out. His fingertips stroke the slick perspiration across my hips. Now, I’m angry. I curse his name until his lips slide where his cock once loved.
“I hate you. I hate—” My emotions burgeon, love blossoms between us, and my hips begin to rock and roll, delving into the sweetness only he can offer. When he comes up for air, Leith flips me around and grapples me like an MMA fighter on the mat.
“Shit,” I hiss when he thrusts into me.
Our tongues cease their wrestling as he groans, “Hen, ye will cum at my command.”
“What about now?” I ask. Blood pulses through my veins in a wild, uncontrollable beat. “Let me cum now, please!”
With his skillful dick bruising deep inside of me, Leith grips a hand along my throat. “Nae. All this arse and hips and bloody feckin’ attitude. I’m gonna make ye work for it.”
Leith positions me all over the room, fucking me hard until the sun comes up. On the back of the lounger, on the floor. We’re standing up against the wall. My leg drapes over his forearm, and my palm rests on the dresser. I cum harder and faster each time. Even with me bouncing on his dick, straddling him at the edge of the bed, Leith is in a position of dominance. He owns the night, and he owns me.
The evening before Leith drives out to Silicon Valley for the workweek, I labor in the kitchen, creating his favorite meal. Scottish salmon lays on a mountain of mashed potatoes in the center of an aqua blue plate. For Mia, there’s a tinier mountain of macaroni and cheese. She will push her side of broccoli along the circumference of her plate until we give her an ultimatum—the broccoli or the salad I also made. Forcing the Minion’s hand occurs every night at dinner.
As I pour a crisp wine, I ask, “Are we still moving to the valley?”
Though I’m not observing him directly, Leith’s eyes flit. A shiver of disappointment runs through me, disturbing my concentration.
“Aye, Chevelle. Just maybe next year is all. Wit, hen?”
After a few beats, I’ve swallowed the unwavering lump in my throat. Acting perplexed, I ask, “Hmm? What?”
“That’s what I asked ye, lass.” Holding the stemless glass of wine, he has the nerve to look compassionate about my feelings. Leith’s steadfast gaze reads, “Ye can tell me anything.”
“Mommy,” Mia jumps in her seat. “More macaroni!”
Like a kangaroo, I’m out of my chair as Leith reprimands our daughter. “My wee wean, wit are ye supposed to say, eh?”
“Pleaseee!”
Beneath my husband’s piercing gaze, I grab Mia’s purple plastic plate. Half the contents are on the colorful placemat. At the stainless-steel range, every thought fades from my mind except for one thing—he lied to me. My husband fucking lied to my face. Mia’s in the background, a worthy cheerleader, begging for more cheesy goodness. I pluck up the wooden spoon and scoop more of the gooey mac onto her plate.
Leith gets up. His beautiful gaze searches over me. My mouth pulls in pensively. His attractive face becomes stony, challenging even as his patience ebbs. “I said, wit, Chevelle? What else is on yer mind? Tell me.”
“Nothing.” My strength evaporates. I’m so preoccupied with my thoughts that I continue heaping more macaroni onto Mia’s plate.
“Ya do.” He removes the wooden spoon from my hand. His thumb is at my jaw, assessing me with a gentle, possessive touch.
Though I lack the nerve to say a word, my glower speaks volumes. Sure, Leith’s told innocent white lies, like how I looked absolutely gorgeous at nine months pregnant. At the time, I’d been donning a two-piece swimsuit Justice swore I had to buy—swollen ankles and all. Or like the time he was dying to watch the rom-com I had asked him to watch with me on his short weekend home. And how he’d chop his own finger off if he fell asleep and snored during the said movie. The bastard owes me a few fingers.
But a big lie?
Never.
I’m a fraud. I’ll argue with Leith until all the air expires from my lungs, and death is impending. But when it really counts, I cave.
With our own personal soundtrack in the background—an impatient Mia—Leith and I stare at each other.
Chewing my