Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
I leaned in to kiss Fiona before she said anything else.
She responded to the kiss immediately, like she always did, no matter how pissed off she was.
“I’ll be making some more rules once I get this cat’s shit from your car,” I informed her, cock already hard.
Fiona’s eyelids fluttered. “You’re not the boss of me.”
I grinned. “We’ll see if you say that in twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes later…
“Who’s the boss of you, baby?” I grunted as I pounded into my wife’s velvet pussy.
Her cheeks were flushed with arousal and fury, her eyes on fire as she glared at me. “Fuck you.”
My cock pulsed inside her. “Who’s the boss of you?” I repeated.
She kept her lips pursed shut.
I stopped moving.
She let out a groan.
“Who’s the boss of you, Fiona?” I asked for the last time.
She continued scowling at me for a handful of seconds. “You’re the boss of me, husband,” she shot back, anger lacing her tone.
“Good girl,” I murmured.
“Now fuck me,” she demanded.
And I did what my wife ordered.
Because she was the boss.
twenty-one
Partners
fiona
My days working at the café were numbered. Even now my hours had drastically reduced. But I still hung out there as often as I could.
Especially since there was an abundance of pastries, cakes, and all the delightful sugary food I could stomach, which was an impressive amount.
My body was changing rapidly now as I was officially in the third trimester. All my checkups and tests had been going wonderfully—all of them attended by Kip. I had plenty of reasons not to worry. In fact, an argument could be made that I barely had any reason to worry. But that wasn’t how that shit worked.
Kip had many of his own reasons to worry, too, yet the man in question did not seem worried or tortured. We hadn’t mentioned his late wife and daughter since the big blowup the day his mother arrived. Nor had we revisited the big blowup. I couldn’t decide whether I was still mad at him. Some stubborn part of me wanted to be, just on principle, to make it difficult, maybe. It was only a small part of me, though. Most of me had gotten over it. Most of me was enjoying the sex, the doting husband, the cat he had successfully trained to go to the bathroom outside, the upcoming arrival of our daughter.
Maybe I’d be ‘nesting’ if Deidre hadn’t already decorated the entire nursery and didn’t have new baby items arriving every day. Nora was often at our place, helping me unwrap things, put them away, explain what half of them were.
Our baby girl’s room was perfect. All the walls were white, except a feature wall of woodland wallpaper, complete with branches, swallows, and butterflies. The crib was wrought iron, and there was a midcentury changing table, a floral rug, and a large, comfortable rocking chair facing the window and the ocean for nursing. I often sat in there, rubbing my stomach while staring at the waves and letting myself believe I’d be holding a little girl in my arms in a couple of months and that Kip would still be here and be my husband.
And he was acting like my husband in every possible way. My real husband. He fucked me every day. Sometimes twice a day. My hormones were out of control, and I only got hornier the bigger I got. I worried that my growing size would turn him off, not to mention the human inside me. But he made me feel sexier than I ever had, and apart from the one time he freaked out when she kicked him pre-orgasm, he was able to separate me from the baby during sex.
Then there was all the food he was cooking me. And our friends. We’d had a couple of dinner parties since Kip and I… reunited—if that’s what you wanted to call it—and he’d cooked at both of them. Everyone was impressed. Even Tina had grumbled about his lasagna being the best thing she’d ever tasted, and she was the last one holding on to her grudge with him. All of my other friends had forgiven the man now that it was clear he was making up for lost time.
Nora hadn’t pried a whole bunch into the nature of our relationship beyond telling me she was happy for me. I was happy for me too.
We’d closed up for the day, and Nora had yelled at me when I tried to help her clean. I’d yelled back telling her I was able to wipe a fucking counter.
She’d relented because I guessed my temper was pretty scary. Granted, it was a force to be reckoned with before I got pregnant. But Kip was the only one brave enough to go up against me these days, and I was pretty sure he only did that as a form of foreplay because I always got what I wanted.