Valentine’s footsteps signal her approach, and I lower my coffee mug.
She’s holding her laptop in one hand and the railing with the other as she walks down the stairs. Her eyes are busy watching where she’s going, so I can drink her in.
And drink her in is exactly what I want to do.
She’s wearing another pair of those high-ass wedge heels. This time in a bright red. And her skirt…
I use my free hand to adjust my dick.
I’ve seen her dresses, but this is different. It’s shiny, like leather, and it’s hugging her like it’s fucking painted on.
It has to be stretchy—to allow her to walk. But it ends at her knees, and I want to shove it up to her hips so I can see if she’s wearing anything underneath.
Her top is bright white. Some sort of flowy silk material that she’s tucked into her skirt. And it’s…
It’s low.
It’s cut really fucking low.
Or maybe it’s just her big tits that make it seem that way.
Val takes the last step down, brushing her hair back from her face and straightening her clothes before she spots me.
I watch her do a second take at the large TV in the middle of the living room, probably wondering where it came from. So I hit the button to lower it back into the floor. I won’t be able to concentrate on watching anything after she leaves.
“Sneaky.” She nods to the disappearing television.
“Valentine, what are you wearing?” I stand from the couch.
She looks down. “What’s wrong with it?”
There’s a slight hesitancy in her tone that I don’t like.
“Nothing’s wrong with it, Wife. You just look like the secretary in the beginning of a porno.”
She narrows her eyes at me.
Rob clears his throat from the kitchen, catching our attention.
Right.
I hold a hand out toward my second. “Val, this is Rob. He’ll be driving you to and from work today.”
Something in Valentine’s stance tells me she’s annoyed. But I’m not quite sure what about. There’s no way she knows about me spying on her session yesterday. And I got called out to check a lead last night. She was asleep by the time I got home, so it’s not like we had an argument.
She looks at Rob, then back at me. “At least you got me someone hot to look at.”
I think my mouth might drop open.
Did she just call Rob hot?
My traitor of a second coughs to cover his laugh. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Please.” Val walks toward Rob. “Call me Mistress.”
This time Rob does laugh.
“The fuck he will,” I snap, moving toward the kitchen. “If anyone calls you that, I’ll slice out their tongues.”
Val pauses at the island to slip her laptop into her backpack, then rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” I repeat.
And then, as she’s zipping up her bag, I see it.
“You want to play, Wife. We’ll play.” I cut the distance between us in a matter of strides.
She tries to back away from me, but I catch her around the waist, slamming her front to mine.
“What are you—”
I grab her left wrist and lift her hand. “No.”
She tugs against my hold, causing her makeup-covered ring finger to wave in my face. “Dominic—”
“No, Valentine. I gave you a choice. And since you won’t wear my ring, you will wear my name.”
Her jaw clenches. “I have to go to the office.”
“Yeah. And the people at your office will know who you belong to, just like the rest of the fucking world. Now wash it off.”
I’m furious.
And impressed with her defiance.
And more than a little turned on.
Val’s nostrils flare, and I’m excited for her answer before she even gives it.
“No.”
I smirk. “Wrong answer.”
Then I lift her.
“Dominic!” Her feet dangle a foot above the ground as I walk us around the island. “Put me down.”
I ignore her.
“Dominic. Seriously—”
She cuts off when I slide her down my body. I know she can feel how hard I am. “Press my buttons, Wife, and you’ll pay the consequences.”
Before she can retort, I spin her around and press my hips against her ass, my feet on either side of her own, pinning her to the counter.
“I can do it.” Her voice is breathy now.
“You had your chance.” I keep one arm wrapped around her, high enough that her breasts are resting on top of my forearm. With my other arm, I reach out and turn the water on.
I leave my fingers under the stream, waiting for the water to get warm, then I fill my palm with soap.
“Give it here.”
Her ribcage expands under my hold, but on her exhale, she submits and places her hand in mine.
I release my hold of her waist so I can lather the soap, her hand between mine.
Then I carefully wash the makeup off. The stuff she used did a good job of covering the ink, but it washes away easily enough.
When it’s clean, I turn the faucet to cool, then hold her finger under the stream. “You’re going to irritate the skin using crap like that on a fresh tattoo. I can get the ointment if you want to put it on before you leave.”
Val shakes her head, and her breath hitches.
I have one awful second to think that she might be crying, but then her ass shifts against me as she rubs her thighs together.
I lean against her a little harder.
She wants me.
I need to remind her how much.
