Happy

Meera

I snuggled deeper into the warmth, a contented smile playing on my lips as soft sunrays seeped into my skin, waking me gently—like an angel’s touch.

The familiar scent of the pillow surrounded me, a mix of cedarwood and spice. His scent.

My eyes shot open as realization dawned. Last night, he left me tied up and half-naked.

But now… I was free. My shorts were in place, my wrists unbound, and I had woken up comfortably in his bed.

I glanced around. The room was vast and elegant—an exquisite blend of power and personal taste. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a glittering city skyline, the tinted glass offering both privacy and an uninterrupted view. The golden glow from recessed lighting highlighted the handcrafted mahogany walls and the smooth Italian marble floors.

It felt so much like him—arrogant, dominant, and utterly rich.

My heart pounded as the silence was shattered by a deep, commanding voice.

His voice.

"Even though you deserve punishment, Pigeon, I still won’t let anyone see what’s mine in any compromised position. So, don’t ever forget who you belong to."

The voice note ended, leaving behind an unshakable presence of him in the room, despite him being nowhere in sight.

I sighed, shaking my head. This man was infuriatingly possessive.

Still, as I moved out of the bed and stretched, I couldn’t deny the flutter in my chest.

Was it because I had slept in his bed? Or because, even in his possessiveness, he had protected my dignity?

I didn’t know. And right now, I didn’t care.

I walked into the bathroom, the cool tiles against my feet grounding me. As I stared at my reflection, a girl with wild, fire-lit eyes stared back. Faint marks decorated my neck—evidence of his raw presence in my life.

A small, secret smile curled on my lips before I stepped into the shower, letting the lukewarm water wash over me.

Grabbing his shower gel, I inhaled deeply. At least this way, I could feel him near me.

***

Abram~

My breath hitched the moment I heard her voice drifting from the bathroom.

Fuck.

That melody was going to be the death of me.

She had me wrapped around her delicate fingers, and the realization was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Last night, she had been tied to my bed—half-naked, vulnerable, mine.

And yet, I hadn’t touched her. Not in the way I wanted.

Not because I wasn’t desperate to, but because no one—not even the maids—was allowed to see her like that.

Her body was only for me.

But something about this morning felt different.

She had slept peacefully in my bed, as if she belonged there. And for some reason, I didn’t hate it.

The bathroom door opened, and she stepped out, her presence stealing the air from my lungs.

A towel clung to her body, exposing creamy thighs and curves that should have been sinful. But it wasn’t just that—

It was her smile.

A real, breathtaking smile. One I had never seen since we got married.

Something deep inside me clenched at the sight. If this is what I wake up to every morning, then she belongs here.

She walked toward the mirror, completely oblivious to me, blowing a playful kiss to her reflection.

A slow smirk tugged at my lips. I didn’t know she had this side to her.

I stood from the stool. “It’s time to say good morning to my Pigeon,” I muttered under my breath and stalked toward her.

She sighed to herself, unaware of my presence. “Shit, how could I forget to grab my clothes before showering?”

Perfect.

I wrapped my arms around her from behind, pressing my lips to her bare shoulder, feathering kisses along her damp skin. Red. So fucking sensitive.

She inhaled sharply.

"Don’t worry, wife," I murmured against her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of my shower gel on her. "You have clothes in the closet."

But at this moment, I didn’t want her in clothes.

I spun her around, burying my face in the dip of her neck as her breath hitched. Her soft curves pressed against me, her towel the only thing separating me from my undoing.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Abram…”

Fuck.

The way she said my name sent a jolt straight to my cock.

I kissed the delicate skin between her breasts, watching the way her breath stuttered. Mine.

The towel loosened with a single tug, falling in a whisper to the floor.

Her bare skin. Her body. Her scent.

Everything about her was driving me insane.

I grabbed her hips, pulling her closer, pressing my lips between the swells of her breasts.

She moaned, arching into my touch, her body reacting instinctively to me.

I turned her around, pressing her against the dresser, my fingers tangling in her hair as I pulled her head back, my lips brushing against her ear.

"Look at yourself in the mirror while you take me."

Her sharp intake of breath was all the consent I needed.

My joggers and briefs pooled at my feet as I coated my fingers with my spit, sliding them between her slick folds, rubbing slow, torturous circles against her throbbing clit.

Her body trembled. "Please—"

I smirked. "So wet for me already."

Without warning, I thrust into her with one deep stroke, a moan escaping both of us as her walls stretched to accommodate me.

“Fuck—” I rasped, watching in the mirror as she took me like a good wife.

I pulled out and slammed back in, gripping her waist as I set a punishing rhythm.

Her body rocked beneath me, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. Fucking perfect.

I slapped her ass, and she clenched around me. "You feel so good," I growled, my hands moving to her clit, rubbing tight circles while squeezing the soft weight of her breasts.

I leaned forward, capturing a nipple between my lips, sucking hard.

"Abram—please, it's too much," she moaned, her voice breathless.

Her walls gripped my cock, and I knew she was close.

My balls tightened, slapping against her with every deep thrust, the room filled with the wet, sinful sounds of our bodies colliding.

"I can't—" Her body tensed, spasming around me as she shattered in my arms.

A strangled groan tore from my throat. "Fuck."

Her climax triggered mine, and I emptied myself inside her, my release spilling deep into her heat.

My forehead dropped to her shoulder, my arms wrapping around her waist, holding her tight as we both caught our breath.

I kissed the curve of her neck softly, unwilling to let her go.

If I had the power, I would glue my body to hers and never leave.

Because she had become the bane of my existence—the object of all my desires.

Her presence seeped into me like venom.

And I craved every drop.

A sudden, sharp jab to my stomach made me grunt in pain.

I tightened my hold around her. "I’m not letting you go."

"Abram," she whispered.

Something in her tone made me pause.

"...Your mother is standing at the doorway."

Fuck.

***