Wedded Life

~V~

Chapter V.I; back on track
Jan. 21st, 2021
{Y/N}
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"Wifeyyy," my hands worked like a masseuse as I called my lover with one of many of her pet names. Beyoncé grumbled in her sleep, alluding she didn't want to be bothered, but she didn't have a choice in the matter. "Come on my love, you gotta get up."

Her next response came muffled as she groaned it into her pillow. She then snuggled closer to the cushion I kept for my use on my side because it was cool, due to the fact I'd been up and ready for a while now.

I snatched the cover back, ignoring her whine, and smacked fire into her bare skin, since she fell asleep naked during aftercare. "Get up, I'm not telling you again."

"Whyyyy-ugghhhhh!!!" Beyoncé managed to sit up like a zombie rising from its previous resting place. I tried not to laugh at her Barbie-styled installation now identical to a bird's nest. My favorite female threw a tantrum, roughing up the blankets and anything in her reach. And she wonders where Rumi gets it from.

"We got shit to do, cut it out." I left for a second to grab Bey's go-to water bottle out of our mini fridge so she could chug it like normal. When I returned she was nodding off, two seconds from collapsing completely. "Yoncé Giselle."

"I'm up, fuck."

"You up." I asked, "you must be resting them lids for a quick second then huh?"

Bey slapped the comforter once, expressing her agitation before she finally decided to try and climb out of the bed, tangling her sitting legs with my standing ones. "Y/n, leave me alone. This is your fault."

"How?" My question came humored, Beyoncé loved throwing the blame on me, especially for the shit she knew I had nothing to do with.

She tried to snatch the metal container full of cold crisp water from my hands, but fatigue slurred her movements and caused her to miss completely. I took no offense and placed the lip of the bottle to hers, a little dry from sleeping with her mouth open. I tilted the bottle enough to allow a thin steady stream to flow into her mouth. For a minute straight, I stood there quenching her thirst.

"AHhhh!" Beyoncé swallowed and sighed a breath of refreshment, she wiped the excess liquid caught around her mouth and looked up at me, "for fucking me like some slut on the street."

"Baby. That's what you told me to do?" I recalled her explicit dirty talk from the day before, "fuck me like you hate me, Daddy, I wanna be your slut...I mean I didn't wanna call you that but you kept insisting it was hot, I even had my thumb in the—"

"Shh! That wasn't me!" Her knee came up in the midst of her surprised embarrassment, effectively silencing my tangent but made me squeal instead and double over into her lap.

"That shit hurts like hell for a female too! What are you on Beyoncé?!" I griped in pain, holding my crotch.

"I'm sorry Bubba, it was kinda reflexive." Beyoncé's hand moved my own out of the way, replacing it with soothing strokes. She just wanted to get all up in my cookie jar. "Want me to kiss it better?"

I stood up straight, lifting her chin so her doe eyes looked up at me innocently and lustfully. "You need to go kiss that toothbrush better, ya breath a lil hot."