Strip

"Strip!"

Byron ordered with a hoarse voice, focusing on his wife, Abigail, whose eyes were glued over the ground near her feet while both hands and fingers were tangled with unknown itchiness. Her chest still huffing up and down slowly after sharing the hot, passionate kiss.

So, even though she listened to him, she could not budge, which drove him rashly wither.

"What?"

"Can't you hear me in once?"

He arrogantly interrogated, making her finally look at his side and mutter in a skittish tone, "I…I don't know…" She barely could speak when he sneered in irritation, "What you can't understand? I told you to strip. Remove your cloth…"

"Or….Do you want me to take it off with my hands." His corner raised with mock at the end of words.

Abigail pressed her lips tightly and glared at his side, "Can I switch off the light?"

"Why? It's just a dim light." He smiled faintly, seeing her talking like a white lotus.

"It's….sill uncomfortable..." She explained with a nonchalant shrug.

"And so?" He