Page 114 of If You Claim Me

“The important parts are in perfectly good condition. It’s my thighs that are sore.” She kisses my neck. “And my abs. And basically everywhere else.”

“It’s interesting what you deem unimportant.” I set her on the bathmat.

The tub is positioned so it, too, has an amazing view of the lake. Candles cover the surface of the vanity and the small table next to the bath. I even poured her a glass of sparkling grape juice, since she usually reserves alcohol consumption for nights out with friends.

“It’s so pretty in here.”

“It matches you, then.” I peel her out of her clothes. Every time it feels like unwrapping the most precious gift. Once she’s beautifully naked, I help her into the tub.

She sinks into the hot water with a groan, the bubbles covering all her soft, tempting parts. She reclines, letting her hair spill over the edge as her eyes fall closed. “Oh, this is nice.”

My chest warms with satisfaction.

I nab one of her many scrunchies from the vanity and move behind her. Running my fingers through her hair, I gather the thick strands and pull them into a messy bun, securing it.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” I move the book from the chair and take a seat. “I thought I could read to you.”

“My very own narrator.” She sinks down until her chin brushes the bubbles. “Go on, then.”

I flip to a bookmarked passage and skim the contents.

“And don’t skip the spicy parts,” she warns, still smiling.

“I wouldn’t dare.” I start reading, the scene playing out, tension shifting on the pages and in the room as the hero and heroine push each other’s buttons. “These two should just fuck and get it over with,” I muse as I flip the page.

“Soon. It’s all about the buildup.” She sighs.

“Have you read this one before?” I flip to the next page, skimming ahead.

“It’s a comfort read.”

“There’s a lot of tension for a comfort read.”

“That’s the point.”

I continue where I left off, the conflict between the two rising right along with the heated tension. And then they break. The water sloshes as Mildred shifts, her hands disappearing beneath the surface as the hero’s fingers skim the heroine’s curves and slide into her panties.

Mildred’s eyes meet mine. “Don’t stop reading.”

“Are you playing without me?” I shift to sit on the edge of the tub.

“If you got in, you could play with me, too.” The water laps against the swell of her breasts.

“I think I like the view from here.” I drag my fingers throughthe bubbles, displacing them, giving me a brief glimpse of her hands dragging down her thighs, and then her delicate fingers dipping between.

I keep reading for a few more paragraphs, the hero and heroine giving in to the chemistry raging between them, eyes flicking up to Mildred between sentences, taking in her parted lips, pink cheeks, and lust-filled eyes as the couple embraces their basest, darkest desires and he fucks her in the stairwell of their apartment, where anyone could find them. Mildred shudders and sighs, eyes falling closed as she reaches her peak.That’s my wife.

When the scene ends, I set the book on the chair and grip the edges of the tub, leaning down to brush my lips over hers as I whisper, “What’s your darkest fantasy, darling?”

Her bottom lip slides through her teeth, gaze shifting to the side, hands still between her thighs. “Why?”

“Because I want to know what gets you hot, aside from me reading to you.” I drag my hand through the slowly dissipating bubbles.

“I don’t want you to judge me,” she whispers.

“My sweet wife.” I thrill at the way she softens whenever I say those words. I brush my lips over hers again. “I did unholy things to a sandwich out of spite. I won’t judge you for the things that turn you on.”