Page 12 of The Mrs. Clause
I came, painting her inside with my cum.
As we both calmed, our bodies cooling, I felt her start to withdraw.
"Nick, I need to… umm… We need to…"
I pulled back, looking down at the woman I loved.
"Come," I pulled back, entwining our hands together. "Let's get you cleaned up. Then we'll talk."
Chapter Six
Collins
I stood in the bathroom staring at myself in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my hair mussed, and my lips swollen. A hickey slowly colored on my collarbone while my butt throbbed, feeling slightly raw.
That's because you let your estranged husband fuck you senseless on a wooden entry table.
I blew out a sigh, closing my eyes and dropping my head. None of this was turning out how I expected. Nick had led me to the bedroom – our bedroom. It looked as if I had only left yesterday. Not a single thing had changed in the five years I'd been gone. Even my clothes, the ones I'd abandoned all those years ago, remained in place.
I'd absently dressed, pulling on clothing that hadn't been worn in years. The clothes were tight but would do until I returned to my hotel.
Nick hadn't stayed to explain how he still had my things. He'd simply left me to clean up while he went to make a phone call.
Gathering myself, I pushed away from the vanity, going in search of Nick. As I walked through the house we'd shared together, I was struck by the sameness of it all. Nearly every painting, portrait, curtain or item of furniture that I'd purchased remained.
Our wedding picture still hung in the hall. The giant vase I'd found in a market in Florence still graced the dining room table. Even the house plants I'd purchased still decorated corners and shelves, looking healthy.
I'd assumed Nick had wanted me gone. I'd assumed he would have used my leaving as an opportunity to scrub me from his life. Instead, I'd returned to what felt like… a shrine. The only difference between that day and this appeared to be the decorations scattered about the house. Mistletoe and baubles, holly and candy canes. Mrs. Mackenzie's doing I was sure.
I found Nicholas in the kitchen, frying something in a pan.
"Hey," he nodded at the seats on the other side of the island. "Take a seat. You want some wine?"
I padded over, settling at the bench. "No, thanks." I patted my stomach. "I'm abstaining from alcohol while trying to…"
The words died on my tongue.
He nodded, turning back to the pan and giving it a quick flick, flipping the pieces of meat sizzling in the pan. "I should have asked you if there's anything you can't eat while we're trying." He looked over his shoulder at me, a frown marring his face. "I was just going to finish this risotto, but if you can't eat it I can-"
"I'm good for the moment," I assured him, feeling touched at his concern. "Once we get pregnant, that's when all the food limitations really kick in."
He nodded, turning back to stir a second pot. When satisfied, he moved to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of soda and handing it over.
I sipped it, watching him navigate the kitchen, adding salt, preparing our meal. A warmth that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with this man settled in my chest.
He dished up the meal, handing over a fork and a plate then settling beside me with his own. We ate in companionable silence, me occasionally stealing glances at him while he stared down at his plate.
"This is really good," I lifted the fork, giving him a smile. "Thank you for making it."
He nodded, but it was distracted, as if he were a hundred miles away.
I looked around, searching for a conversation topic to fill the awkward silence that had descended. "You know, you've developed a little bit of an accent since being here. It's subtle but-"
He slammed his fist down on the bench, twisting to pin me with a glare. "Accents? Really Collins? Five fucking years and you want to talk accents? After what we just shared?"
I opened my mouth, to say what I didn't know, but he didn't let me, shoving away from the island to pace across the tiled floor.
"Why did you do it, Collins? Why did you leave? You never even gave me that." He turned, his gaze searing. "You owe me that much."
