Chapter 12
Francesca
I awoke naked in Stefan's soft, comfy bed. I stretched, feeling sore muscles in places I didn't even know I had muscles.
It was a good sore, though. A naughty, delicious ache.
When I rolled over, I saw that I was alone. I listened quietly for a few minutes, waiting to see if Stefan would emerge from the bathroom or the closet.
And when he didn't, I decided to get up and shower.
Goodness knows I needed it. So, I put my hair in a messy bun and turned on the shower.
The nice, warm water soothed me. I thought about how ridiculous it was that just a short time ago I'd been showering in an old, moldy, falling-apart shower.
And the hot water only worked for five minutes at a time at my dad's house.
Not like Stefan's shower at all. I could really get used to this.
After I soaped up and rinsed off, I stayed under the water for a few more minutes. Maybe I'd even take a bath later.
I smiled to myself, just thinking about that.
I wasn't sure what time it was, but it was getting dark outside. So much so, I had to turn on the lights to do my hair and makeup.
At first, I was just going to do my minimal makeup routine. But then something came over me—and I decided to do a little more.
Well—a lot more.
Stefan had given me a beautiful gift earlier. The way he made love to me then had definitely been a bottle moment. I'd shove that memory into a bottle and keep it forever.
Something inside me wanted to show my appreciation for what he'd shared with me.
And part of that plan was going to be smexy makeup.
Great contouring.
Vampy lips.
I wished I had a hair straightener or curling iron. But I'd just have to make do with a hairbrush and hairdryer.
When I was done—I smiled at myself in the mirror. I was pretty sure Stefan was going to appreciate the heck out of my effort. Next, I needed to pick out something to wear.
I hustled to the closet, hoping Stefan wouldn't show up before I was dressed.
It didn't take me long to pick out the perfect “outfit.” Antonia had practically screamed as soon as I'd put on this light pinky-peach colored see-through chemise.
The lacy cups didn't have much support—but I think that was the whole point.
I absolutely loved the matching lace panties.
And I was pretty sure Stefan would, too.
When I was finally ready to go, I stopped to check myself out in the full-length mirror at the end of the closet.
“Hot,” I whispered as I turned around to look at the back. “Really hot.”
Yeah.
Stefan was definitely going to like this.
I traipsed out of the closet and through the bedroom, in search of my unsuspecting husband.
I gasped for a second—and then smiled.
That was the first time I'd thought of Stefan as my—husband.
I held onto the railing as I floated down the stairs, my chemise swinging weightlessly around me.
First, I tried the kitchen.
Nope.
No Stefan.
Not on the patio, either.
Hmm.
Maybe he was in his office. I headed through the kitchen and down the long hallway.
His office door was open, and a dim light filtered through into the hallway.
I looked through the glass walls around the doors to see—my husband at his desk.
I walked to the doorway and knocked lightly on his door.
His eyes caught mine—and then dragged down my body.
“If you're too busy, I can go,” I said, waiting for a moment while his eyes took me all in.
“Fuck me,” he whispered to himself. Then he cleared his throat. “Come here, wife. I'm never too busy for you.” He crooked his finger at me.
“Are you sure?” I asked in my sassiest voice.
“Get your gorgeous ass in here, Francesca,” Stefan ordered in his best bossy voice.
So—I flounced inside, Stefan's eyes stayed glued to me the entire time.
“Come here.” He patted his lap, and I grinned. “And here I thought you were sleeping this whole time.”
I sat on him—as ordered.
“I have the most beautiful wife.” His hands held onto my waist as his eyes continued roaming over me.
I turned my head to see his laptop still on. Assuming it was his work stuff, I didn't stare—until I thought I saw a word that wouldn't have anything at all to do with work. After I did a double-take, I stared at the screen.
Shocked.
It said, “Oral sex.”
My eyes nearly bugged right out. “What the heck is that?” I pointed to the screen.
Stefan chuckled. “Just making that spreadsheet you requested.”
My mind started spinning. “I asked for a spreadsheet with oral sex written on it?” My voice rose to nearly a squeak.
“Yes, you did. How could you forget? You asked for a list of sexual goals to complete before we begin playing in my—
I cut him off while I stared at his spreadsheet. “Dungeon.”
He laughed quietly. “Yes, Francesca. My dungeon. Do you have any questions?”
I scrolled down, reading carefully. “Why do you have so many subheadings under—oral?” I squinted and kept reading. “Isn't there just one way of giving oral?”
His hands rubbed my arms. “No. For example, sometimes you'll come up between my legs when I'm sitting down—and give me head that way. Other times, we'll be in the shower, and you'll be on your knees while I stand. And then other times, when I just want to fuck your face, I'll be on my knees.”
Oh.
Boy.
“There are other positions. But we can get into that as we go,” he added.
I kept scrolling down, down and down. Right at the bottom, I saw a word I didn't understand. “What is—” I moved closer to the screen. “Sharing?” That was the last thing on the spreadsheet. “Sharing what? Like, sex toys or something?”
Stefan quickly scrolled up and said, “Not exactly. But we don't need to think about that quite yet. There's a lot more to do on the list before we get there.”
I scrolled. And scrolled.
And scrolled.
“I'm going to need a printout of this when you're done.” I looked at him and immediately met his eyes. They were already on me.
Full of heat.
So much heat that he warmed me as well. “Do you have a printer?”
He smiled and nodded. “Yes, Francesca. I have a printer. And yes, I will print off a copy for you when it's done.” His hand wandered down to my knee and stayed there—burning through the thin material of my chemise.
“It must be finished.” I glanced back at the spreadsheet. “I mean, look how long it is. There can't possibly be any more sex things to do.”
He laughed and slipped his hand underneath the fabric on my thigh. “There are a lot of—” his smile grew, “sex things to do. I also need to edit and double check that I've included everything I intend to.”
I bit my lip as I read between the lines of his spoken words. “So—” I said in a drawn-out manner, “there are things that you aren't going to include?”
His hand squeezed my thigh. “Exactly.”
I tilted my head and pursed my lips in thought. The problem was I couldn't think of anything he wouldn't include. “Things you don't want to include.”
His hand rubbed up and down my thigh. “Yes,” was all he said in answer.
“Hmm. But what if I want to do them?”
Stefan laughed and gripped my thigh. “I don't think you will. But even if you do—” he shook his head, “we won't do them. Because they're a hard limit for me.”
I frowned. “A hard limit is something you won't do?” I asked, trying to push and understand what it was he wasn't telling me.
“Correct,” he gave me a one-word answer. Which was beyond frustrating.
“Give me an example of one of yours.”
He sighed and said, “Choking.”
My jaw nearly hit the floor. “What? People get off on that?”
Stefan smirked and nodded. “Yes, Francesca. A lot of people do.”
I blew a breath out. “That's hard to believe.” I focused on his face as I asked, “But you don't?”
He shook his head.
“And you know this because you've tried it before?”
Another sigh, and he said, “Yes.”
I bit my lip and squinted at him, maybe hoping he'd become clearer to me. “Why don't you like it?”
His lips touched my cheek. “Because I don't. It doesn't do anything for me. What gets one person off doesn't necessarily get another person off.”
Hmm.
I thought about that for a moment and then asked, “Will you write down your hard limits?”
He shrugged. “They're irrelevant, really. Because we won't be doing them,” he said confidently.
“Will you write down mine?” I inquired, wondering how this all worked. Because I might have a lot more hard limits than he did.
“We can if you like.”
I nodded and pointed at the computer. “You can also add choking to my hard limits. Make a section somewhere.”
Stefan arranged me on his lap and turned his chair more toward his desk so he could type.
Then I observed as he clicked and typed on the laptop.
I watched as he added a section called “Francesca's hard limits.” And just like I asked—he added in “choking.” And then he added in a few more eye-opening things. Like—fisting.
“Um, does that mean what I think it means?” My voice squeaked on the last few words.
“It means exactly what it says.” Stefan stopped typing and placed his hands on my thighs.
I had to ask, though. I was just too nosy. “Have you done that?”
His hands rubbed my thighs. “No, Francesca. And I never will. I was giving you more examples of things we'll never do. But that some people like to do.”
I blew out a breath and thanked the stars that Stefan didn't like any of those things. Because I was really, really, really sure I'd never want to try them either.
I turned in his lap so I could see him better. “Is this list in order of what you want to do first?” He'd put oral on the top of the list. And even from my limited experience with him, I knew he liked that. A lot.
Stefan's hand cupped the side of my face.
“None of this is in any particular order.” He kissed me, his tongue immediately taking over the kiss.
“But incidentally, oral is always a good way to start.” He grinned and then kissed me harder.
His hand slid down to my shoulder and then a little further until it was on my breast. And that felt wonderful.
“Like, right now?” I asked, my lips grinning against his.