Page 30 of Vicious Secrets
“Do you need anything?” I ask before leaving to make coffee.
“No. Enjoy your day off.”
I can’t help but smile. From where Siro is, he can’t see my face anyways.
“Careful with the pain meds,” I say as I leave the room.
“I’m not purposely trying to taste equations,” he mumbles and rubs his face.
I make my coffee and some toast, sitting down at the dining room table for the first breakfast alone in more than a week. Fabi’s not around since Siro’s home, but he’s only a text and a flight of stairs away.
My days off used to be full of errands, chores, and cramming in as much sleep as possible. Every part of my life was hectic, inside and outside of the ER. Now it’s oddly peaceful. I have no responsibilities other than occasional cocktail parties and dinners.
I no longer feel the urge to spend an entire day doing all my tasks so I can spend two solid days vegging. I get time to veg almost every night, and that’s added up to a better mood in a short time. I barely leave Siro’s penthouse, but I’m never bored. I like my alone time.
It’s a small miracle Fabi hasn’t clawed his eyes out yet. Poor guy probably expected a hyperactive outsider and got a “knitting while rewatching the same shows” enthusiast. Who also occasionally drags him out shopping or to a craft store.
As I nibble down my breakfast and think about my old life, a sinking feeling turns my toast into rocks. The biggest change has been time away from Mom.
No, I can’t completely blame her for my busy life. I love spending time with her. Getting to be more like her best friend and less like a child was awesome growing up. Except for all those times I had to also be the adult in our relationship. But there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. Mom did her best. And until recently, I thought Oscar did too.
A month after the wedding and Mom’s only called me once. I’d like to think she’s giving me space and letting me adjust to life with Siro. But it’s out of character for her.
If I’m being honest with myself, if Mom knew about Oscar’s debt and Siro’s threats and chose not to tell me, I’d forgive her all too easily and convince myself she hid it from me out of protection. Even though I know lying to protect is one of the most heinous forms of manipulation.
I debate about how I want to spend today as I wander back to the bedroom to take a shower.
Siro lies on his back with one arm over his eyes and the other resting along his belly. His chest rises and falls with deep breaths. He doesn’t look peaceful, but at least he’s getting some much-needed extra rest.
I take a quick shower, cursing myself when I hop out because I forget to grab clothes. After drying off, I go into the closet and dig around for some loungewear.
A sharp inhale from behind me startles me, shooting my shoulders to my ears and making me turn in the direction of the sound. I cover my breasts with my arm and cross my legs as I spin. Siro stands in the closet doorway, leaning against the frame much like he did the day he brought me home.
Except he’s missing his shirt, and his pants sit very low on his hips from the drawstring being untied. The thin gray cotton shows a perfect display of his semi-hard cock along his thigh.
I tear my gaze away and drop my arms. He’s my husband, for Christ’s sake. We’ve had sex, and we share a bathroom and a closet. He’s zipped and unzipped several dresses for me.
“How’s the pain?” I ask as I pull on a t-shirt dress sans bra or underwear.
“Not a problem,” he grunts as drawers open and close behind me.
I pause and turn my head to see he’s already left. Thinking about his cock brings back memories of his mouth on my pussy, and I shudder. Digging through my underwear drawer, I find my vibrator and a dildo. It’s been way too long since I came. I haven’t felt brave enough to ask Siro if his aversion to touch is one-sided. Besides, asking him to eat me out and get nothing in return is mean.
Magic toys selected and secured, but where do I hide to use them? The guest bedroom will do even though the door doesn’t have a lock.
I wander off to the guest room and settle on top of the bed with my back to the door. I spread my legs and turn on the vibrator to a low setting. Stroking it over my clit draws a gasp from my throat. I’m ridiculously sensitive. Four weeks without an orgasm isn’t unheard of for me. I guess sleeping next to the mouth-wateringly handsome king of the bad boys every night has made me needy.
Turning the vibration down, I flop on my back. My eyes flutter close as I tease my pussy with the vibrator, running the tip between my labia and swirling it around my clit. A shudder in my legs bends my knees and splays them wider.
I grab the dildo and push it into me. Underestimating how wet my pussy is, how thick the toy is, and how infrequently I penetrate myself, the push becomes more of a shove. The sudden deep stretch sends a sharp stabbing pain rocketing up my hips. I release a sharp yelp and sit up, pulling the dildo out slowly.
Quick footsteps moving down the hallway in my direction make me freeze. The tip is inside of me and the vibrator is on as the door opens with a whoosh of air.
“Are you...” Siro’s voice dies off.
My eyes squeeze tightly, my shoulders scrunching up to my ears as a flush burns every inch of my being. My body doesn’t get the memo of shame. A fresh wave of desire pours into my veins, pebbling my nipples and making me very aware of how empty my pussy is.
“Fine,” I bite out as I sit up straighter to block his view. My eyes peek open.
