Chapter 15 Henry
Chapter fifteen
I’m sitting at my desk as Linda drones on and on about the upcoming annual charity gala that the company puts on the day before Thanksgiving.
She’s going over seating arrangements when my mind wanders to the memory of Katarina and me in the bath.
The memory that’s been playing on repeat for over a week.
“Katarina?” I call out. My wife is the first thing on my mind as I walk through the door.
When I don’t get an answer, I walk up the stairs and check in her room, only to find it empty.
Deciding to rinse off after a long flight before I go looking for whatever my wife might be up to, I head to my room.
I never used to mind traveling, but I haven’t been away overnight since Katarina moved in, and it almost killed me to be apart from her.
It feels so good to be home. However, the problem of her not sharing my bed remains.
I’ve half a mind to say screw it and just tell her how I feel instead of playing the potential long seduction game.
Undressed, I walk into the bathroom, my focus on taking off my watch. Looking up to grab a towel, I’m met with the mouthwatering view of the woman I’ve been thinking about nonstop for the past three days.
“Katarina? What on earth are you…”
Goddamn, she looks like pure sin in her black string bikini. I can feel my erection growing with each passing second.
The next thing I know, she’s in my arms, straddling me in the bath, massaging my head as she washes my hair.
This is much better than the cold shower I was planning on taking.
I can't help but touch her. I want to pull the scraps of cloth from her perfect, perky breasts.
Despite the hot water, her nipples peak out from under her bikini.
I want to see what shade of pink they are.
I want to pull them into my mouth and suck until I leave them marked with bruises.
Bruises that trail from her perfect breasts to her…
“All done,” she breathes, “Time to rinse.”
I lean back, and the new angle forces my cock closer to her hot little cunt. If we weren’t already in a tub of water, I know I would feel how wet she is.
All I’d have to do is slide this flimsy strip of material over, and I would be lined up at her entrance. I could drive inside of her right now and officially make her mine. Consummate this marriage right here, right now.
She’s so close to me, our eyes locked, and she’s moving closer. God, I want to kiss those lips again. The kiss we shared on our wedding day wasn’t long enough. I want her to open up for me.
But I can’t. Turning at the last minute, I kiss her cheek.
I was such an idiot. She left that night, and things haven't been the same since. I wasn’t rejecting her.
If she hadn’t left, I one hundred percent would’ve fucked her in that bath.
If she had just let me explain…I don’t kiss women.
It’s not her or something she did. I just don't. It’s written into every contract I’ve had as a dominant.
Our kiss on our wedding day felt like a once-in-a-lifetime lightning strike, but I know now that it completely shifted my perspective on the act.
It’s an intimacy I haven’t allowed myself to indulge in, but I would learn for her.
I want to kiss her. I want everything with her.
I would’ve done it that night in the bath.
It’s just my first reaction to deflect. I should’ve gone after her that night.
I should’ve burst into her room and kissed her so fervently that she would never mistake my desire again.
If she knew how rare it was for me to allow touch, for her to wash my hair so intimately, she wouldn’t have felt the rejection of her kiss quite so acutely.
But that’s my fault, once again, for not expressing myself clearly.
The gala will be the perfect opportunity to show her how proud I am that she’s mine, and just how much she owns every ounce of me.
“Mr. Sinclair?” Linda’s shrewd voice brings me back to the meeting.
“I’m sorry, what is it, Linda?”
“I was just asking if you were going to bring a plus-one.”
“Of course I’ll be bringing a plus-one,” I say, lifting my left hand to flash my ring.
Linda rolls her eyes, her attitude peeping out more and more as of late. “I just didn’t know if you were planning to bring your child bride.”
Suddenly, my attention is completely directed at her, my predatory reflex kicking in at her insult. Before I can say anything harmful, she speaks up again.
“You know what I mean, it’s a very important night for the company.
I know she is an extraordinary piece of eye candy to have on your arm, but you’ll be dealing with tycoons in the industry, and she is so young.
I would hate for them to think poorly of you because she just doesn’t have the proper schmoozing experience… ”
My sudden outburst of laughter stops Linda from her rambling. “If you’d ever had a conversation with my wife, you would know how absurd your statement is.”
The anger in her eyes is impossible to miss, and I know if I don’t shut this down quickly, it will turn into a nightmare.
“Linda, please make sure Mrs. Sinclair is properly documented as my plus-one. For this event and everyone moving forward. You’re excused.”
She gives a curt nod before leaving, and I rub away the tension headache threatening to form.
After all of the chaos of the past two weeks, I’m beyond ready for the gala and a chance to show off my wife. I can’t change the fact that Katarina felt rejected, but I can make sure she knows exactly how proud I am to have her on my arm.
Leaning back in my desk chair, I imagine what it’ll be like to finally have a plus-one to an event like this.
Although these galas are for a good cause, I’ve never enjoyed them.
I’m an expert in showing up, donating to whatever deserving cause there is, dancing with ladies of all ages with a smile on my face, staying an appropriate amount of time before sneaking off home or to the club…
but I’ve never had a confidant there with me.
Someone with whom to make wry observations about other guests, to hog all my dances.
These events can be a lonely business, particularly when it feels like everyone wants a piece of you.
I can’t stop thinking about my wife these days, and although I have another meeting in five minutes, my mind wanders to the gala.
Collapsing into giggles, Katarina leans heavily on me as we sneak into a hallway off the ballroom. Finding what seems to be an overflow storage room for disused holiday decorations, we sneak in and I sit her down on a table.
“My feet huuuurt, Henry. I knew these heels were a bad idea.” My wife slurs her words just a bit, showing off her champagne indulgence. By next year's gala, if I have my way, she’ll be drinking sparkling cider.
Kneeling before her, I hear her breath catch and can’t help but smirk.
Undoing the clasp around her ankle, I gently pull one platform heel off before moving on to her other foot.
Her thigh-high slit tantalizes me, but I have an easier path to pleasure for her right now.
Digging my thumb into her arch, she collapses back onto her elbows with an almost pornographic groan.
“Ohhh fuckkk, that feels good, Henry. Please don’t stop…”
“Language, Kitten. Just because we’re out doesn’t mean I won’t punish you.”
Moving my ministrations up her calf to her thigh, because I can’t help myself, I realize she’s been gallivanting all night with no panties.
“Mrs. Sinclair, have you had no panties on all night? That’s quite naughty. I think you might need to be punished.”
She pulls herself up off her elbows and raises one eyebrow defiantly.
“What are you going to do, spank me?
The harsh alarm on my phone jolts me back to the present, hard as a rock and late for my meeting.
It’s going to take me a few more minutes to cool down before I can walk into a conference room, but any time I can spend with Katarina is worthwhile, even in my imagination.
Perhaps we can recreate the scene in real life at the gala.
Thinking of how perfect her dress will be for clandestine touches all night, I ready myself for the last meeting before getting to leave for dinner and the relaxing comfort of home.
With Mrs. Potts and Katarina holed up in her dressing room finishing her hair and makeup for this evening, I admire the dress I’ve just snuck in to hang on the window’s curtain rod.
I told my wife that she could pick any of the gowns in her closet for this evening, but I lied.
From the moment I saw her in her dusky periwinkle swimsuit the first morning she came to the pool, I knew she needed a gown in this color.
And lingerie, and sweatpants, and a cocktail dress.
I may have gone overboard, but once I figured out the exact color code for the hue that makes her eyes sparkle, well.
It’s not my fault; it’s so easy to order custom colors of things.
The gown is a strapless satin, with a structured, corseted waist that tapers to the floor, accompanied by a slight train.
A showstopping thigh-high slit makes it dramatic and will show off her perfect legs.
Matching platforms, as comfortable as possible, and teardrop diamond earrings will complete the look.
She’s going to be magnificent on my arm, and her dress will only enhance her beauty.
My laughter when Linda expressed concern for Katarina’s ability to mingle with the rich and famous was sincere, as I can’t imagine anyone better suited to the role.
I can feel the hearts in my eyes as I think of how quickly she’s bewitched the staff, truly caring about their lives and making an effort to get to know them.
She knows precisely how to balance asking thoughtful questions of someone with subtly directing the conversation in any direction she pleases, and I can’t wait to watch her work the room tonight.
People will be eating out of her hand in no time.
A throat clears, and I turn from the dress to see the woman occupying my every thought.
She’s exquisite. Covered by a dressing gown, for now, her hair simple and out of her face.
Potts discreetly takes her leave, and I approach Katarina in a daze before reminding myself I have seduction to accomplish and can’t be caught off guard.
She’s eyeing me apprehensively, and I need to show her how proud I am to be hers tonight.
“You look beautiful tonight, Mrs. Sinclair,” I say lowly, brushing a kiss over her knuckles. “I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of having a dress made for you this evening, and that you’ll do me the honor of wearing it.”
I see her decide not to be too mad at me, and I’m rewarded with a smile. “It looks like a beautiful dress. Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. But, Potts left, and it looks like I’ll need some help with the zipper…”
“I was, perhaps foolishly, anticipating that you might allow me to be of assistance?” I ask, showing her the vulnerability I feel.
I’ve seen her in nothing but a tiny swimsuit, and she’s seen all of me, at this point.
Although I’m not pushing for an immediate return to the intimacy we shared in the bath that I fucked up, I long to see her…
She drops the robe she was wrapped in, and I feel my mouth drop open.
Mrs. Potts obviously delivered the package containing her matching lingerie, and she’s wearing it to perfection.
Beyond perfection. A lacy corset in the same custom periwinkle, with a barely there thong to match.
Walking past me, swaying her hips, she stops just in front of the dress and looks at me over her shoulder.
“Well?”
Sassy girl. That’ll get you spanked sooner than you realize.
Taking another deep breath, I cross the room, reaching over her to pull down the dress and hold it open for her to step into with my arms bracketing her hips.
Zipping her up, I catch her eye in the full-length mirror in the corner of the room and make no attempt to hide my blazing desire for her.
Maybe all this isn’t necessary, and we could just stay in…
“Do you have shoes for me, as well?” she asks sweetly, and I huff a laugh at how well she’s able to play me now.
“Yes, brat. Go sit, and I’ll bring them to you.”
Grabbing the box off the bed, I follow her to her settee and kneel before her, mirroring my fantasy from my office.
Pulling her left leg onto my knee first, I delicately place her foot into the shoe and clasp the ankle strap.
Before she can pull it away, I grab her ankle and hold her in place.
Looking up from my vantage point, and feeling incredibly at home on my knees before her, I lick a tiny stripe up her instep before kissing her inner ankle and releasing her foot to grab the other.
The heat in her eyes is unmistakable, along with the goose bumps rising across her skin.
I repeat my worship of her other leg and stand, pulling her with me.
Arranging us before the mirror with her in front of me, I’m awed by the perfection I see.
Her toned leg is perfectly framed by the slit in the dress, diamonds glittering at her ears, plush lips slightly parted as her eyes meet mine.
My frame towers over her, left hand protectively across her lower stomach, as if daring anyone to approach what belongs to me.
As she delicately places her own left hand on mine, her rings glisten, a reminder to everyone tonight what she is.
Mine.