Page 62 of Caged in Desire
“Good morning, Mrs. Sinclair,” I say, kissing her temple and inhaling her scent. “How did you sleep?”
She yawns before her face scrunches in thought.
“Alright, I suppose. Although I had the weirdest dream that you…” Her eyes pop open as I move between her legs, throwing the comforter away and spreading her wide for me to inspect.
“That Iwhat,darling?” I taunt, dipping two thick fingers into her pussy to coat them in our cum before pulling them to my mouth and tasting our combined flavor.Delicious.Even better when it’s been marinating all night.
Her mouth drops open in shock, and she tries to feign outrage as I lower myself and get to work licking to clean her up properly.
“Youfucked mewhile I was asleep? Why?Unghhhh…”
Finishing my meal, I decide not to finish her off since she’s going to question me this morning. Sitting back on my haunches, I mindlessly grab one of her tiny feet to rub.
“Well, you fell asleep very early last night. Before you had a chance to perform yourwifelyduties, in fact. So since you were so tired, I decided to let you sleep,” I explain. “You came for me, you know,” I say with a smirk. “So good even in your sleep that I filled you up twice.”
When I lean over to kiss her languidly, she moans as my length brushes up and down her clit, and I forget my earlier reasoning for not making my wife come. Pushing into her quickly, I set a brutal pace and drag both of us over the edge in record time.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say, pulling back to get a full view of her face as she scratches my back.
She bites her lip before squeezing her walls around me where I’m still buried deep. I groan, and shelaughs at me.I’ve created a monster. A sexy, confidentmonster.
“I’m not sure why I think that’s so hot…but it is,” she says, before digging her nails harder into my back. “In fact, perhaps I’ll return the favor one morning.”
The thought of waking up with her hot mouth already around my cock has me subconsciously thrusting again, and I realize we’re probably not leaving the bed today.Maybe I’ll retire, and we can stay in bed forever.
After a very late brunch, Katarina heads to her room to call Sasha and then take part in a Christmas planning group video chat with my mother, Margot, and Sloane. It’s amazing to consider what Christmas will be like this year with us all together as a family. LJ will be the center of attention for his first Christmas, but not for long. By next year, there will be at leastfour little Sinclairs to dote on.At least.Taking my coffee in hand, I send a few emails while admiring the view from the windows looking back toward the end of my wing, where Katarina’s rooms were.
It seems like a lifetime ago that she had her own bedroom and a separate space away from me.Never again.We’ve already been talking about the best use for her room, and it can be whatever she wants as long as I have a chair in the corner to be in her presence. I’m just about to go find her and see how her calls are going when I see a fluttering of a curtain in the window a few rooms down from her bedroom. Moving quickly to the second floor, there’s an open door to a room that connects to Katarina’s old one, the original owner’s suite of the house. I think my parents used it as a nursery, but it’s been a storage space since my mother moved out. Imagining it as a nursery once more, I think that for Christmas I’ll add renovations to my list of giftsfor my wife. We can create a suite that suits both of our tastes, rather than her having to deal with my masculine decor.
For now, though, I shut the open window that allowed the curtains to flutter outside. I have no earthly idea why it would be open in the first place. I don’t think Katarina ever really entered this room other than a cursory glance when she first moved in. After she commented on being creeped out by too many doors into her bedroom, I ensured the adjoining door was tightly locked. Perhaps Potts pulled some of the Christmas decorations out of here yesterday and thought the room could use airing out? Although I’m certain I checked this door when I made my rounds last night.
I’ll start by asking Potts if she came in here yesterday and go from there.
“Henry?” Katarina calls for me from our room. I give the nursery one more glance, planning to make some calls this afternoon and get the ball rolling on renovations. Maybe as part of her present, we can pick out finishes in Italy in the spring, before she gets too far along to travel internationally. Before I can get fully lost in my daydream, I shake myself out of it and go to find my wife.
Chapter thirty
This is shaping up to be the best Christmas I can remember. Father’s estate manager always hired out the house decorations when I was growing up. Everything was always very “corporate Christmas” with neutral colors and crystals. Very little green or red was allowed. This year, not only was I allowed a hand in our decorations but Henry actually let me spearhead the entire theme of the house. I’ve also been able to spend more quality time helping Mrs. Potts bake all of her classic Christmas treats. It’s been such a fun activity working with her to perfect recipes, then being able to gorge on the fruits of our labor.
It’s especially fun when Margot and Sloane come over to help us “taste test.” They’re both swiftly approaching their third trimester, and Potts and I are more than happy to indulge them. When all the baking is finished, the four of us will stack a mound of treats on a plate, grab a pitcher of non-alcoholic eggnog, and cozy up by the fireplace, gossiping away.
The only negative is how pudgy I’m getting. Not that Henry seems to mind. No, the softer I become, the more insatiable he is. He calls ithappy weightand insists it makes me that muchmore attractive to know he’s making me happy.Hehasn’t gotten soft, though. I don’t know when he finds the time to exercise since every spare moment he has is spent buried in my pussy. Not that I’m complaining.
I made the mistakeonceof mentioning how I’ve put on a few pounds to my very pregnant sisters-in-law, and they’ve never let me live it down, insisting that even if I gained twenty pounds, I would still be smaller than they’ve ever been. When I tried defending myself, Sloane hit me with, “Well, does Henry seem to struggle at all to throw you around?” She’s got me there.
I’m in the middle of wrapping some last-minute presents when my phone buzzes with a text from the man himself.
Henry:
There will be a car there in five minutes to bring you to my office.
Wear a dress or skirt. No panties.
Make sure you’re ready when it arrives.
I need you.
This is the first day he’s back in his office since my father’s funeral, and I’m missing him as well. I’ve enjoyed having him nearby in his study every day, knowing all I have to do is knock and he would put aside his task to tend to me. Although I never had to. He never let too much time pass before coming to find me. Sometimes just to make sure I was okay, and sometimes because he needed to be inside me.
