Chapter 18 Nicolas
nicolas
Leaning on the doorway to the living room, I caught sight of Zofia, sitting on the couch, laptop in her lap and her cat curled up next to her. “Hey. I was thinking about making dinner. You hungry?”
It had been a few hours since our friends had helped us finish moving Zo’s stuff in, and after unpacking for a few hours, she’d stopped to take a break. Knowing her, though, the break also involved work stuff—and I wanted her to actually take a break.
She looked up, giving me a shy smile as she shut the computer lid. “Oh. Hi. Yeah, I could eat.”
“Great. I was thinking breakfast for dinner. Any objections?”
Zofia shook her head, stroking Duchess’s back before standing off the couch. “Works for me.” Her blanket fell onto the floor, baring her long, slender legs to me. She was wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, so opposite from her usual work attire, and I was a little obsessed.
I wanted to pull her shorts down and bend her over the couch, burying my face in her sweet pussy and eating her out until she cried my name.
My dick perked up at the thought. Down boy, I urged myself. I needed to feed her first. Take care of her and make her feel at home.
Cooper nudged at my leg, whining at me. I scratched his head. “I’ll feed you in a second, Coop.” He barked in response, and I chuckled.
Zofia followed me into the kitchen, settling onto a barstool as I filled a bowl with food for him before pulling out the pots and pans I needed to make food.
“This is weird,” she said, scrunching up her nose.
“Living together?” I asked, frowning.
“Yeah. Besides my ex, I’ve never really lived with anyone before. You know how that turned out. And now you’re being all… domestic.”
I looked down at myself, wearing my favorite soft blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans as I pulled ingredients out of the fridge. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who was used to our usual business attire. “I’m just trying to be a good fake husband,” I told her. “Can’t let my wife go hungry.”
“Do you want help?” she asked, rounding the corner. “I know my way around the kitchen. My mother instilled a love of cooking in me since I was a young girl. I loved making Tamil dishes with her.”
I blinked. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”
She nudged me aside with her hip. “Yes. Just tell me what to do, husband.” She winked.
“You want to cut up these? I was going to make omelettes.” I gestured to the spread of toppings. “You can have whatever you want inside.”
“Sure.” She picked up a knife. “I got this.”
I laughed. “Great. And, for the record, I’ve never lived with anyone besides my parents and roommates in college as well. And it’s been a while since the latter.”
“No… long-term girlfriends?” Zofia asked, and I could see the curiosity sparked in her eyes as I cracked eggs against the bowl.
Shaking my head, I chuckled to myself. “No. I had a girlfriend in high school, but things ended pretty quickly when we both went to different colleges. After that, I only saw people casually. I knew couldn’t devote enough time to a relationship.
” Grabbing the whisk, I whipped the eggs till they were well-mixed.
She hummed, slicing through the bell peppers as I added salt and pepper to my bowl. “So there’s no one who got away?”
“No.” There’s only you, Zofia Larsen, I wanted to tell her.
But that was too much, too soon. Too much for our fake marriage, that felt less fake by the day. Especially with her under my roof. With her shoes next to mine in the entryway. Her clothes in my walk-in closet.
“What about you? I know you didn’t want another arranged marriage after your asshole ex, but I don’t understand how someone like you didn’t find someone already.” I added some butter to the pan, letting it melt before I added the egg mixture.
“Someone like me?” Zo furrowed her brows, turning to look at me. “What does that mean?”
“Smart. Successful.” I wanted to touch her, but I kept my hands to myself. “Beautiful.”
“Oh.” She looked away, her bottom teeth digging into her lower lip. “I don’t know.” She went back to chopping the bell peppers into smaller pieces. “I guess you could say I didn’t prioritize dating for a long time. And then suddenly I was thirty and still single. But I don’t regret it.”
“You don’t?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
“Nicolas.” Her voice was soft, but full of need.
I stepped towards her, curling a finger under her chin. “Tell me, Gorgeous.” My voice was rough.
Her lips opened, but no sound came out, and then my hands were on hers, bringing her mouth to mine. She let out a moan as I swiped my tongue through her mouth, savoring her taste, like caramel and coffee.
I pulled back, noting her heavy-lidded eyes, and pressed another soft kiss to her lips. “Food first,” I said, readjusting myself before turning back to the pan. “What do you want?” I asked.
She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “You.”
I chuckled. “Me too, but I meant in your omelette.” After making sure the eggs were set, I added in some ham, cheese, bell peppers, and bacon to the middle of the pan, continuing to cook it evenly.
“Oh.” Zofia looked flustered. “I, uh—that looks good.”
“Okay.” I nodded, smirking at her, plating the first omelette after it finished cooking. “Eat.” I drew my eyes down her body, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You’ll want the energy for later.” I winked, scooping up a bite onto the fork and extending it to her.
Zo sucked in a breath, taking the bite. Her eyes never left mine as she chewed, finally letting out a moan. “This is so good.”
Grinning, I held up another bite, thinking about how I wanted to have her make that sound again later in bed.
I repeated my process to start another omelette, only to find Zo holding a forkful up to my lips. “Here. We can share,” she murmured. I closed my mouth around the tines, maintaining eye contact with her as I chewed and swallowed, just like she had with me.
“Mmm,” I said, enjoying how domestic the action was.
When her plate was empty, I filled it back up with the second omelette, both of us taking turns feeding each other.
I was so turned on, and the action was hotter than I’d ever expected.
I pinned her against the counter, lifting her up to sit on it, and stood between her legs.
“One more bite,” I told her, holding the fork to her mouth.
“I’m so full,” she pouted.
“Not how I usually like hearing those words, but I’ll take it,” I said, feeling satisfied.
She pushed at my shoulder. “Perv.”
“You like it.” I nipped at her lower lip.
Zofia hummed, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Maybe.”
“You love the way your husband fucks you,” I said against her mouth. “Admit it.”
She closed her eyes as I kissed down her neck. “Yes,” she said, winding her legs around my torso.
I carried her up to our bedroom, setting her down onto my bed—our bed, now.
She frowned when I stepped back, opening the drawer of my nightstand.
“Nic?”
“I have something for you,” I confessed, pulling out the box I’d picked up earlier.
“What? Nic, really, I don’t need anything—”
Opening it, I pulled out the band before snapping the box shut. I stepped closer to her, grabbing her left hand and slowly slid the wedding band down onto it.
“Oh.” She stared at it, as if mesmerized by the gold and diamond band. It was in the shape of a crown, made to stack perfectly with her ring.
“I’d ordered it at the same time as your ring,” I admitted. “But it was back ordered, and it only just came in. I went to pick it up during lunch. I was going to give it to you earlier this week, at the office, but…” I wanted it to be more private.
“It’s beautiful. But you didn’t have to…”
I brushed her hair back behind her ear. “Of course I did. My wife deserves the best, doesn’t she?”
“Nic—”
Stepping between her legs, I tugged her into me, pressing my lips softly against her forehead. “I’m sorry it took so long. I wish I’d had it in Vegas.”
She let her forehead rest against my chest. “Every time I think I’m used to us, you surprise me like this.”
“Happy one week anniversary, Gorgeous.”
Zofia laughed, pushing my shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”
Yeah, I was. Because I was obsessed with my wife, contract or not, and I never wanted her to give that ring back. If this was what it took, it was so worth it.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes.” The word was quiet, but there was no missing it.
“Then it was worth it.” I kissed her cheek. “Now that you’re all moved in, I was thinking we could celebrate with everyone soon? Maybe dinner with our friends?”
“I’d like that. Ang, Gabbi and I were talking about it at the beginning of the week.” She smiled, inspecting the ring again. “My parents are already asking me when we’re coming over for dinner.”
I winced. “My dad is too.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Looks like we have a lot of people we have to apologize to, huh?”
“No apologies,” Zo said, standing on her tiptoes and kissing my jaw. “No regrets, either.”
“Good.” I pressed my lips to her forehead. “Now, I want to get you out of these.” I tugged on her shirt, guiding her to sit back down on the bed.
“I—” She bit her lip, drawing in a breath. “Do you think us having sex is a good idea?”
I paused, taking the time to look into her eyes. “Do you not want to?”
“It’s not that. I just worry that we’re complicating things. We signed a contract for a reason, right? We’re helping each other.”
“I think giving each other orgasms definitely counts in the helping each other category.” Smoothing a hand down her hip, I moved to kneel in front of her.
With my head resting on her knees, I looked up at her.
“I never want you to do something that you don’t want to do.
If it doesn’t feel good, or you’re not into it, we’ll stop. ”
“That’s not it at all,” she insisted, her fingers running through my hair, nails scratching softly against my scalp. It felt incredible. “I just feel like so much is changing so fast, and I don’t know where we stand anymore.”
“You’re my wife,” I responded, placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh. “I’m your husband.”
“And my boss,” she whispered.
“You’ve always been so much more to me than just my assistant, Zofia. Even if sometimes I want to fuck you like you’re not.”
“Oh?” Her eyes heated, hands tugging on my shirt and pulling it over my chest. “Tell me more.”
I pulled her thighs apart, humming. “When you come into the office wearing those tight pencil skirts, I want nothing more than to bend you over my desk and slide inside of you. My sexy, tempting little assistant.” Pressing my knuckle to her clit through her clothes, I rubbed slightly.
“And then I want to send you back to your desk, my cum dripping out of you for the rest of the day, reminding you who exactly you belong to.”
Zofia let out a moan. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My dirty girl.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and my cock twitched in my jeans. “Please.”
“Fuck, Zofia.” I rubbed my face against the inside of her knee. “You don’t know how much you affect me. This last week I was hard almost all day, knowing you were sitting outside, wearing my ring.”
“You could have told me,” she whispered, hands trailing down to my face.
I shook my head. “I wanted to give you time to rest after Vegas. Your poor pussy took quite the pounding.”
She laughed. “Yeah, but I liked it.” Zofia tugged me up, bringing my lips to her mouth. “Now remind your wife exactly whose she is, husband.”
“My pleasure.”
And then I stripped her out of her clothes, all too eager to be inside my wife.