Page 115 of The Heir

"Hmm-hmm." He'd pulled me close, rubbing his nose along mine. "I like it with spinach, ham and extra cheese. Do you think you're down for all the fixin's baby?"

I'd burst out laughing. "King," I'd gasped, wiping a tear from my eye. "How do you manage to make that sound dirty? Are you really that depraved?"

His eyes flashed as he reached past me to turn off the shower, snagging a towel and wrapping it around me. "No," he exhaled deeply. "I'm not depraved at all when it comes to you, love. Even if we spend the night not having sex, just the feel of your skin on mine is more than enough to satiate me."

He'd led me out the shower with a hand on my back, so gentle.

So caring.

Reaching into a small cabinet, he'd grabbed my bottle of anti-nausea medicine, pulling out a pill and handing it to me.

"Oh, I actually feel good, King. I don't think I need it." I'd said, pouting my lips and waiting patiently as he got me a cup of water and made me take it anyways. "I'm so looking forward to my new client tonight!" I'd gushed, excited to be back on track with my career.

He'd gestured for me to sit at the vanity where he took the time to comb my hair. He'd shared with me about two weeks ago that it's something he'd been wanting to do, and well, as a good wife, I make concessions where I can.

But truth be told, him combing my hair is my very favorite part of the morning.

I'd rubbed moisturizer on my face and turned to pick up his hand, inspecting it. He'd waited patiently as I worked to lather his hands with cream, making sure to massage his muscles as I go. The intimacy between us is something that I know I'm so lucky to have, so I hold it close to my heart.

We talked about nothing that morning while we got dressed. And afterwards, we walked to the kitchen arm in arm dismissing the servants, preferring to be alone. We chopped vegetables, beat eggs, and put on a slow rock station while we worked He assures me once again that he wants a girl.

"With your fiery spirit," he'd said as he put the toppings into the skillet.

I'm reminded of just a few weeks ago when I was begging Christopher to make breakfast with me, and he wouldn't. And here I was with a charismatic, powerful man that has way more responsibility under his belt than Christopher ever did. A man who'd dismissed the servants just to make omelets with his wife.

We stood side by side at the stove, trading looks and little touches. "Do you know we've made love thirty-eight times?" He'd whispered in my ear.

A little thrill went through my being as he pulled me close to him, tucking me under his arm.

I'd snorted on a laugh. "What?" I'd said, looking up at him. "You've been counting?"

"Yes," King laughed as he placed an omelet carefully onto a plate, and sprinkled extra cheese on it. "For you, my queen," he'd said with a wink, making me blush and tighten my lips in an effort to hide my smile.

"Thank you. So what's the plan for today?" I'd asked, taking his plate as well and walking over to the breakfast table where he'd set a out a jug of orange juice, and then held my chair out.

For some reason, the way his fingers brushed over the skin of my neck made me shiver. The simple touch radiated through my being, and it's what I latch onto when I go to disassociate later on in the day.

"Just the usual. Meeting after meeting after meeting." King hummed with pleasure as he took the first bite. I love he enjoys my cooking.

"Well, I've got a meeting around three this afternoon. I have a new client who wants me to do her entire house, and I have been waitingpatiently to do a walkthrough so I can get started on her design!" I'd said excitedly.

King's face brightened as I talked a little about my work. This is something that he and I tread a very thin line regarding. Though we met through work, we don't let it overtake our entire relationship. The rest of the day goes as normal, and King even came to visit me at lunch to make sure I'm still doing okay. Blair gave me a cheeky wink as she showed him into my office, but other than him giving me a chaste kiss on my lips, nothing inappropriate happened.

Looking back, oh how I wish it would have.

"Oh Mrs. Ripple,stop that!"I giggle, feeling a blush so hot it makes me dizzy.

It's hours after my lunch with King, and I'm at my client's house in the late evening. This consultation took so long that I begged Xavier to sit in the car and wait for me, promising him I would text him before I walked out the building.

Mrs. Ripple, a woman in her mid-thirties who had just gotten married to some wall street broker about a month ago, was tasked with redoing their entire three story townhouse.

"Come on, Isobel, call me Meghan. There's absolutely no need for formalities, especially after what we just went over." Mrs. Ripple looked conservative in a deep purple pencil skirt, a white long sleeved sweater and high heel shoes. But her demeanor was completely laid back, yet as harmless and fun as the sex room she wanted me to design as a surprise to her husband.

I think it's cool because it's a very feminine sex room.

"Okay, Meghan," I laugh. "I think we have a solid plan. I can start with the main rooms now, and give you a mock up in about two weeks. Then I'll start working on the-the…." I pause, contemplating a more appropriate name for that room than just a 'sex room.' "Den of iniquity," I say with a smile. "And can have that to you in about a month."

Mrs. Ripple bursts out laughing. "Den of Iniquity? I love it!" She wipes a tear from her eye and sees me to the front door with a hand on my arm. "Hey, you be careful out there; it's sprinkling," she warns, opening the door and then giving me an affectionate squeeze.

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