Twenty-eight

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“Your nipples are staring at me,” Brandon says. “Anyone who cares to can see them.”

On instinct, my eyes lower to my chest, to my nipples stretching against the gold, thin strap satin gown I am wearing. I flash him a smile, cover the distance between us to smoothen the invisible creases on his tuxedo. He growls and grabs my wrists to stop me from palming his growing bulge, I giggle and throw my head back, he snickers. I love the effect I now have on him, it almost feels surreal to know that he hated me at some point.

“When you walk, everyone will see your thighs,” he murmurs as my hands reach up to adjust his bow tie of the same colour with my gown. He frowns. “I don’t like that.”

Pulling his lower lip between my teeth, I let go and cock my head. “Are you jealous?”

He answers without hesitation, “Yes.”

Taking a step back, I twirl, leaving my long legs on display. The slits at each side end a few inches below my crotch, every little movement calls attention to the lower part of my body. The gown was a gift from Clarissa on my first night out to the club and tonight feels like the perfect occasion to show off my curves with my husband in tow.

“You don’t have to be. I’m all yours, baby, I’m all yours,” I reassure him as I close the gap. The lines marring his forehead remains, I sigh and straighten up to place his hands on my chest. He offers me a weak smile, I ask, “Do you want me to change?” I pull him by the wrist and start for the wardrobe. “You can pick something out for me, is that okay?”

A yelp escapes my lips at the sudden shift in our positions. My back connects with the wall, his breath fans my face and he backs away with narrowed eyes to scan the length of my body. I gulp, my chest rises and falls at the intensity of his stare as he inches closer to me and my mouth dries up. At a loss on how to react, my fingers splay on his solid chest and I gasp when he rotates his bulge against my crotch area. My teeth sink into my lower lip, I cup his butt and knead them with a sensuality that has him grunting.

One of his hand comes to rest on the space beside my head. “Dear wife,” he starts and my movements cease to allow me to focus on his handsome face. “You are too beautiful.”

A lump lodges in my throat at the sincerity in his words, I place a kiss on the top of his head which trails down to his nose and pull him in for an embrace. My love. I have been complimented a lot of times but he does it different, better, with a grace that has my insides melting into a puddle of affection for him and he doesn’t even try so hard.

“Do you want to change?” he asks. His teeth graze my neck, I moan, my eyes partially close and I shake my head without meeting his gaze. I don’t want to ruin this intimate moment but I love my dress. “Then, it’s fine, you don’t have to. Wear whatever you want,” he takes a step away from me to pout and I giggle, “I can deal with it.”

“I love you.” At the contorting of his face, my heart picks up speed, I ask, “You don’t like it when I say that, right?” My heart sinks to my stomach when he frowns. “I will stop.”

His arm circles my waist, I sigh in content when he nuzzles my neck. “It’s not that that,” he murmurs against my skin, “I am not used to people being nice or saying that to me.”

“I can stop,” I volunteer and offer him a grim smile when he raises his head to stare at me with a strange expression. “I will stop. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

My train of thoughts evaporates as his lips descend on mine briefly, he peppers kisses on my jaw and I gasp when he pinches my nipples. His knee comes to separate my legs, I wince in pleasure when he interlaces our fingers above my head and grinds against me.

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