Page 83 of Retribution

“Is that why you wore the tights under your shorts?” I ask.

I actually don’t know what the hole covered material is called, but they made me wild while hanging from the ceiling, unable to touch her.

“They weren’t tights, but yes,” she says, lips twitching in slight amusement.

“I wanted to rip them off your body just so I could eat your cunt until you screamed,” I murmur.

Her face flushes at my words, and I inhale sharply as she perfumes for me.

“Such a good girl for me,” I praise. “I love how responsive you are. I’ll do that one day. Let’s get you dressed.”

Just like that, I’m bustling her out of the bathroom, watching as she pulls on another hooded sweatshirt and panties.

“Do you need any more clothes than that?” I tease her.

“Only if I need to go out,” she says.

“I plan to keep you inside with me,” I promise. “I have to ask you something.”

Moving to the bed, I lay Leila down only long enough to fix the bed so that there are pillows down on my right side. Looking down at my sweatshirt, I pull it off and toss it to the side before taking off my shoes as well.

“What do you want to ask?” Isolde asks, walking back toward me as Leila wiggles uncomfortably on the bed.

“I know, I’m terrible,” I croon to the baby, climbing onto the bed and picking her up. Rubbing her back, I fix the pillows so that I’m almost sitting upright as I lay back. “Come to bed and I'll tell you.”

“Like this?” she asks, climbing onto the mattress to crawl over to me.

I swear everything she does is purely sexual. My poor blue knot. May it rest in peace.

“Mmhmm. We’re going to attempt co-sleeping together. I vaguely remember my mother telling me that she did this withme. If I’m upright, I’m not moving around where I could hurt her,” I explain. “With you on the other side of me, there’s nowhere to go. Leila is laying on top of me, and we’ll be good until she’s hungry.”

“This is true,” she says. “I recently fed her. Leila, please don’t blow up your diaper until we’ve gotten some shut eye.”

It sounds like the most mother-like prayer I’ve ever heard, and I smirk as I feel this little girl breathe in and out. My hand is firmly on her back, and she’s not going anywhere.

Lifting my other arm, I wait for Isolde to take it for the invitation that it is as she slides under to snuggle against me.

“Now my life is perfect,” I say, yawning. “My question. Shit, what was it?”

Isolde smiles against my skin, her eyes beginning to close. “I don’t know, Mr. CEO. Is your mind going?”

“That’s not funny, darlin’. Oh, I remember. If I bought you a strap on, would you fuck me with it? I may have mentioned it in passing at one point, but this is a serious question.”

I ruin the moment by yawning again, while Isolde twists her neck to look up at me.

“You want me to strap on a dick and fuck you? Is there a knot? What color is it?” she asks.

The questions are ridiculous, and I grin at the absurdity of them. This is what I want. More silliness, more Isolde. God, I love her.

That should scare me, but it doesn’t. Since a few days ago when Oliver said it to her, I’ve started thinking about it more and more.

“We can shop for one, and it can be black, pink, or even blue for all I care,” I mumble. “If you want to fuck my ass, I volunteer my virgin never before pegged asshole to you.”

“Wow,” she replies. “That’s a proposal.”

“If you need a ring, it’s yours,” I say, not really paying attention to my words as I begin to get pulled under into sleep.

“A… I’ll start with a strap on and then go from here,” she says as I nod. Yes, this makes all the sense to my sleep deprived brain.