Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Last night was everything I could’ve dreamed of and more, but I’m left more confused with our relationship than ever before.
After our amazing night, I wanted to take Margot’s advice to not give it up on the first date.
But after the orgasm he gave me a few nights ago in his study, I was desperate for more.
I wanted him to take me right there in the hot tub.
The way the fabric of his wet clothes felt against my naked skin, the way he held me tenderly yet firmly in his arms, the way his kiss took every strand of my DNA and altered it permanently. I was barely hanging on by a thread.
I knew that if I didn’t put some distance between us, I would have given him everything.
And I want to make him burn for me. I fled to the shower with strict instructions for him not to join.
I half expected him to ignore them, but he was a perfect gentleman, waiting and watching, then handing me a heated towel before leaving to let me get dressed.
He had my favorite guilty pleasure show ready with snacks when I walked back into the bedroom, and had somehow managed to dry off and put on some lounge clothes of his own.
My husband in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt is a masterpiece who belongs in the Louvre.
My decision to make him wait would have gone out the window had he come on to me, but again, he respected my wishes.
We curled up in bed together, falling asleep quickly.
It was one of the best nights of sleep I can remember ever having. And judging by the fact that he didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of his alarm, I would say it was for him as well. “I sleep better alone anyway,” I murmured as I nudged him to wake up. Yeah, right.
I woke up with his very obvious erection poking my thigh, and my intrusive thoughts had me nearly pulling the band of his sweats down to wrap my hand around him, but he needed to get up and get ready for a work call during the drive home, so I didn’t push anything.
He did kiss me good morning, though, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the joy I feel from that connection. Regardless of what he thinks, I can’t imagine a day when I would ever tire of his mouth on mine.
In fact, I wish he was kissing me right now.
Or that he was here with me at all. A kiss, a game, our sweaty bodies moving together in a way I’ve never known before.
Anything really. Unfortunately, his one work call turned into two more, which turned into more, and what was supposed to be a lazy Saturday has turned into a full workday for Henry.
I’m trying to remind myself that I’m strong, and I’m capable of entertaining myself, but after last night, I’m addicted to having his full attention. I know he’s a very important man, but I’m important too, dammit, and it shouldn’t be such a competition for a sliver of my husband’s time.
Making myself a coffee, I take it to the den and sit in my favorite armchair facing the large windows out the back of the property.
Although it’s a frosty day outside, the fireplace in this room makes it a perfect cozy place to read.
Cracking open the newest book suggested by my sisters-in-law, I forget about my earlier frustrations.
I’m two coffees in and making a third when Henry strides into the kitchen looking like he’s had a long morning—hair tousled from running his fingers through it, two buttons of his shirt undone, and forearms exposed from his rolled sleeves.
He doesn’t say a word as he crosses the room, picks me up, deposits me on the counter, and kisses me like he’s been waiting to see me all day.
Maybe he has. Or maybe I’m just being horny and emotional and irrational because he’s busy today.
I melt into him, accepting the fact that my husband might be as crazy about me as I am about him.
He breaks our kiss, breathing heavy as he rests his forehead against mine. “I’m so sorry I’ve been occupied all day, Kitten.” He pauses to nip and kiss down my neck, then pulls back just enough to look into my eyes. “Everything should be sorted. I was thinking we could…”
Before he can finish his thought, his phone rings again. “Dammit…” he grumbles, looking down to see who’s calling. He runs his hand through his hair, sighing. “This shouldn’t take long. I’m sorry again.”
I’m flooded with guilt from my selfish thoughts earlier.
Here I am, getting to cozy up and read by the fireplace while my husband has had to deal with work all day.
Hopping down from the counter, I head over to grab the mug of coffee I just poured when Henry holds his phone to his chest and points at my mug. “How many is that today?”
I hold up the number three and smile innocently.
Without saying a word, Henry takes my coffee, pours it in the sink, and hands me a bottle of water. He’s got his phone up to his ear again, but his attention is solely on me. Rolling my eyes, I grin. “Yes, Daddy.”
I can almost see his skin flush at the effect of my words. He literally growls at me, the grip on his phone tightening as his other hand flexes at his side before turning to march off to his study.
Still standing, propped up against the counter, I grin when I hear the sound of his doors slam. I thought maybe the other night was the perfect combination of events, but now I know what words cause his undoing.
A daddy kink was not something I saw coming, especially knowing how he’s battled with the concept of our considerable age difference. Oh, I can have fun with this.
It makes sense, though. From the moment I moved in, he’s gone the extra mile to make sure I was comfortable and taken care of. Even before our wedding, he had my happiness in mind as he made renovations to the estate that would soon be my home.
I shudder, thinking of how he had me bent over his desk, spanking and soothing my ass. The way he calls me little girl when he’s so close to losing his wits.
As a girl who grew up with few choices in life, the irony isn’t lost on me either. I appreciated the way he picked out everything for me on our date, from my clothes to my food. How comfortable it was sitting on his lap as he cut my steak and fed me.
The difference is crystal clear to me, though.
He’s not doing any of this to control me.
He’s doing it to take care of me. My thoughts and feelings matter to him.
In the two months I’ve lived here, he’s paid such close attention to me.
He knows what my preference would be when the moment presents itself.
In fact, he respects me so thoroughly that in the passion of any moment we’ve shared, he waits when I say wait.
Making my way back to my cozy nest of blankets by the fire, I pick my book back up and wait for Henry to come get me. I can’t help but smile thinking about the dirty things we’re going to get into tonight. He may not realize it now, but he’s just left his king open.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny, girls,” I say to myself, having just realized my sisters-in-law recommended to me a MMF forced marriage book. Picking up my phone to shoot a text to the group chat, I realize the time. I’ve been reading for hours. And Henry hasn’t come to get me.
Laying my book down, I unburrow myself from my cozy cocoon and go to check on my husband.
When I see that his study is open and empty, I head to his room.
Our room? Will he expect us to sleep in separate rooms after last night?
If he tries the excuse of not sleeping well with me again, I’m going to show him the video I was able to take of him completely knocked out, full-on spooning me, while his alarm blared.
I knock on the cracked door of his room before entering.
It’s quiet and peaceful, with the afternoon sun filtering in through the window.
Everything is immaculate, and I know that even if he didn’t have a team of housekeepers on staff, his room would be clean.
Just like Henry, everything in his life is organized and structured.
His room is adorned in cool, dark tones, a far cry from the light, feminine way he had mine decorated.
Do I even have a place here? He’s let me into almost every aspect of his life, but is this last sanctuary of peace too much?
Walking to the side of the bed opposite the one I know he prefers, I lie back, imagining what it would be like to sleep here every night.
A grunt from outside reminds me of my mission to find Henry. Hopping off of the tall bed, I make my way to the window and see the man himself. Out in the snow. Chopping wood. Shirtless. Goddamn.
Grabbing my puffy coat, I make my way out to him.
“Henry? I think we have enough wood to make it through winter,” I say, the scene getting sexier with each step I take closer.
Despite the snow, Henry is dripping with sweat.
I watch as flakes catch in his chest hair, his muscles flexed and swollen with the blood that’s been pumping through them.
His hair, disheveled and wet, falls into his face.
“How long have you been out here?” I ask, approaching him slowly, like a wild animal I’m trying not to startle. “I thought you were going to come get me.”
He freezes mid swing the moment he sees me.
Pausing momentarily before continuing his motion, he hits his mark and sends pieces of wood flying to the ground.
He runs his fingers through his hair with a sigh.
“Katarina, what are you doing out here? It’s freezing, and you’re not wearing a scarf or hat. ”
“I came to find you. I missed you, and I’m sorry your call was so bad. I…”
“It wasn’t just the call,” he mumbles, putting another log on the chopping block. He swings the axe and finds his mark again. I watch as he repeats the motion, each swing splitting the wood with both precision and accuracy that only come from years of practice.
When he finally takes a moment's reprieve, I make my move.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask. Closing the gap between us, his scent— vanilla, mint, and his natural musk—strengthens, intensified from the sweat.
When he shakes his head, I drop to my knees, only an arm's length in front of him.
Game.
“You’ve had such a stressful day. Please let me help…”
Set.
His curious eyes search mine as I look up at him. “Daddy.”
Match.
The curiosity in his gaze wavers as an edge of darkness takes over his expression. He turns from me, pacing in the opposite direction. “Fuck!” he yells into the woods, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
He marches back over and lowers to his haunches in front of me, taking my jaw in his hands. “Say that again, little girl.”
I can’t control the devious smile and gleam in my eye as I watch him unravel before me. “I said, let me help take some of that stress away, Daddy.”
All I can do is squeal when he throws me over his shoulder, marching us toward the house.