✔️ ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

Chapter 31

RITA

The Silent Treatment.

That's what I wanted to gift him. I wanted to snub him. But then, I decided I am not petty. He is not my husband, let alone my soulmate. He is not my lover. He is not my partner — just the pleasure I court in bed.

But rue shall be in his heart for pigeonholing me into the same category as his past hussy, not seeing that I am a woman of substance, deciding to clad me in her clothes, making me a reflection of her.

Never mind. He will acknowledge my worth when I am gone. No more me to warm his bed. No more me to warm his meals. No more me to roll his cigars. No more me to join his showers.

But I am going to make him repent for putting me in the clothes of his past lover. He wants me to wear her clothes? Deal. I will wear them. And I will showcase them when we go to the hairdresser to change my hair.

I look at my reflection in the mirror. Her clothes fit me well. I thought they were going to be too tight, considering she's thinner than me. I am not fat, but I am not too thin either. I am normal — plain and simple.

I leave the closet and go back into the bedroom. I am glad he isn't here. Sighing, I leave the bedroom and go into the guest room, as I reckon he told me her stuff is there.

He obviously has no clue how I got the lingerie. And he isn't aware of his naked cocaine tree yet. Or that I ordered pizzas — bunches of boxes. But I am sure he will soon.

When I enter the guest room, I see luggage next to the wardrobe. Biting my lip, I go to the luggage and open it to see that it's empty. "Right, she said she has settled in." I go to the closet and open it.

"Wow," I mumble in surprise. All her clothes are neatly organized in the closet, but it isn't their order that surprises me. It's the brands she owns — or has owned since she's dead.

Her wardrobe includes brands from Louis Vuitton to Gucci and Chanel. As I go through her stuff, I wonder how much she earned, but obviously good — really good. This is a mojo. I am in awe.

Grabbing a leather coat, I put it on before tying it in the front. It's cold outside, and I don't want to freeze my butt, though I know he is going to warm it up for me sooner or later, as I tend to bend his rules.

Then my gaze stops at the box of condoms she has in her closet. Roman says he doesn't have any rubber. And every time I ask him to buy some, he keeps forgetting.

We boned a lot in the past days, and if we don't use protection, he will knock me up. Taking precautions myself, as he derelicts to wrap his willy, I decide to take the box with me.

As I am about to enter the living room, where I hear him cussing, with the box in my hand, my eyes are downcast. I don't see him come out, and we bump into each other.

I would lose my balance and fall to the floor if his arms didn't wrap themselves around my waist and pull me closer to his chest. I put my hands on his chest to stabilize myself and look at him to see him staring down at me.

"You weren't in the bedroom, and not in the living area either. Where did you go?" he asks me with a frown. When our eyes lock, his huge hand covers most of my slim waist, so warm and comforting that I almost forget I am mad at him.

"I got myself a coat from her closet," I mumble, looking down at the box wedged between us. "And found a box of rubbers that you can use to cover up your willy."

His eyes settle on the box in my hands before he pulls away and takes it from me to look at it. "My willy enjoys it bare, and so do you."

"You will give me your seedlings," I tell him, cocking my head to the side, my lips pursed, trying to understand him, as our carnal indulgence might end up creating a new life if he doesn't wear rubbers.