Imagines | Sprina

Daddy's Home

The mixed scent of breakfast and coffee hit Spencer as he went downstairs. He smiled softly as he met his wife in the kitchen with their three-year-old son — Andrei, who was eating in his highchair.

"Good morning, family," Spencer greeted as he entered.

He kissed his messy son before approaching his wife, who zipped a packed lunch bag. "Your lunch is at the bottom and breakfast at the top," Trina explained as Spencer hugged her tightly. "I made you a vegetable omelet with toast." She continued.

Spencer planted a soft kiss on her head before releasing her.

Trina pushed the coffee-filled Yeti tumbler towards her husband as he checked his bag for all his items and paperwork.

"Andrei is going to my mom after school; we can have some mommy and daddy time," Trina spoke as Spencer gathered his items. "No overtime today," She pouts as Spencer picks up his bags. "No overtime, I promise," Spencer confirms as he kisses her.

"I'm off to work, baby; see you later, lil man." Spencer waved goodbye to his son, whose food-filled cheeks imitated a chipmunk.

"Bye, Daddy!" Andrei muffled out.

Trina took the role of a housewife. It was an agreement they made together post-partum.

She became an entrepreneur, operating a business as an artist and fashion designer. However, her main occupation is caring for her family, managing household affairs, and doing housework, while Spencer goes to work as the CEO of Cassadine Industries.

If you asked her, her primary job description held more than terminology. She'd inform you, "I am not just a housewife; I am an accountant, nurse, negotiator, cook, and driver."

A multitasking mother and wife.

*****

The noises from Trina's heels echoed through the house as she ran from the window. Her target was in sight, and she needed to get in position.

She heard the door unlocking as she hovered across the antique casing. She dusted away at the figurines, and she heard the footsteps approaching the area.

"Baby! I'm —" Spencer's words were caught in his throat as he saw his wife in a provocative maid outfit.

Trina's arched back gave him full access to everything from behind. He cleared his throat as she turned around. Her cleavage is on full display.

"Daddy's Home," She whispered as she leaned slightly against the glass.

—

"A maid?" Spencer asked, earning a nod from Trina. "You're my maid?" He asked again, receiving another nod from the female. "I may have to fire you — you're not doing too well," Spencer began as he approached Trina.

"You're making a mess of me," He whispered in Trina's ear. A shiver ran down her spine as the nibbles on her earlobe followed the statement. "I can fix that, Daddy." The words slipped from her lips with ease as she began unbuckling his belt.

"You can fix it? Tell me, how?" His voice dropped as he walked backward, entering the living room. He flopped on the couch as Trina kneeled before him.

"Get you undressed — these clothes are soiled by the dirt and particles from the outside." She began, cutely removing his suit. "Give you a message, loosen you up. You're tense — stressful day?" She continued, massaging his shoulders from behind.

Spencer nodded, "Very stressful."

He felt a lingering kiss on his neck, "We can talk about it?" He nodded, "We can, but first, what else?" Trina bit her lip, "I cooked dinner, but I was hoping you would prefer dessert first." Her words slipped out seductively as she straddled his lap. "Who wouldn't," He mumbled, returning the same energy.

Trina leaned in — her lips hovered over him, grazing it — she was a tease, and he loved it.

"Mr. Cassadine, please oblige me — things are going to get messier," She whispered before connecting her lips to his. Spencer groaned as Truna shifted on him. The friction she induced was delightful.

Trina moaned as Spencer stood up; he carried her across the room, placing her on the dinner table.

Trina smirked at his eagerness.

"That's not supposed to happen," He responded to her statement as he undressed her. "Make a mess — prepare for a punishment." His husky voice declared as he stripped her nude. Trina gave a naughty pout as Spencer pulled a chair.

"My chocolate dessert," He whispered loud enough for her to hear as he approached her heat. Butterfly kisses trailed up her thigh until he was at eye level with her core.

He pressed a soft kiss to her lower lips — her legs widened at the action.

"Good girl," He whispered as his tongue pressed against her core. He heard her whimper as his lips covered her clitoris. He entered two fingers into her, penetrating her core the way he knew she favored.

"You're making a mess, baby girl." Spencer teased as her arousal trailed down his arm. He was surprised that roleplay turned her on so well.

Another whimper left Trina's lips as Spencer stimulated her weakest spots. She felt her release approaching and reached down to stop him — that action was interrupted as his free hand caught them. "I'm coming," She exclaimed before releasing her juices on Spencer's tongue and digits.

"You made a mess," He smirked; Trina looked at him wearily. He pulled her eye level to him, placing his glistening fingers before her. "Clean them," he demanded; Trina didn't hesitate — her tongue followed the trail of her arousal. It traveled from his elbow to the fingers — he had not too long ago used — to penetrate her.

She looked at him through her lashes as she sucked his fingers, tasting herself. She heard him swear before she released him with a pop. "You dirty girl," he expressed as his index and middle finger rested on her lips. "Only for you." She whispered as she played with his hair.

"Come on, mama, dessert isn't done yet." He picked her up and entered their bedroom to make a mess inside her.