“Where are we going?” Flair asked confused “I can just make something for us to eat for dinner or we can order in. It’s no trouble” she assured me.
I shook my head “Do you think, I’m going to make my wife cook dinner after an intense love-making session like that? What kind of man would that make me? I’m not some caveman” I said disgruntled as she giggled “besides it’s our wedding day. I think I would rather take my new wife out on the town and show her off. So let’s get showered and dressed” I said smugly as she looked at me astonished “and we’ll go eat. There’s this place I think you’ll like with a view of the city. They have plenty of vegan options” I added watching a smile light up her face.
I would do anything to have her smile like that at me every day. “Not only that but they have a VIP room and we can eat in private” I added meaningfully “so you can avoid the crowds if you want or we can sit outside on the private balcony.”
She looked excited. “A private balcony? That sounds like fun Grayson. Let’s get ready.”
I headed for the bathroom, humming lightly under my breath. Something occurred to me and I turned around sharply, “Are you on any birth control?” I asked.
She shook her head “No, I’m not. I thought you wanted an heir?” she said confused.
“I thought you wanted a health check” I pointed out.
“I trust you” she said quietly “and I’ve only ever been with Johnathon. We um, we weren’t intimate in the last few months while he was…”she trailed off.
While he was seeing Charlotte, I put in the blanks. I nodded
“then as long as you’re happy, let’s go out for dinner.”
She eagerly agreed.
Johnathon POV
Charlotte was still moody over the ring she had picked out. No matter how many times I tried to cheer her up, I was met with resistance and anger. I couldn’t win. Even after we retired to the bedroom, she was more than a little snappy. I decided that some seduction was in order. She was always in a better mood after we did the deed. This time should be no different. I leaned over the bed and kissed her lovingly on the lips. She barely responded. I continued, relentless, her lips parting with reluctance. It was like kissing a dead fish. I began to put my hands underneath her shirt and slowly raised it above her head, slowly dropping it to the floor.
I kissed the nape of her neck, my hand reaching behind to unclasp her bra. She made no move to help me. In fact her body language was stiff. I gently pushed her onto the bed and then undid the button on her pants and slid the zipper down, sliding her pants down her legs and slowly peeling them off. She was already barefoot, and I hooked my fingers underneath her panties, shimmying them down and off, leaving her naked body exposed and open to my gaze. I licked my lips. She looked delectable.
I cupped her breast and squeezed it. No response. I skimmed my hand down her ribcage. She stared up at the ceiling. I began to kiss her navel, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my lips. I spread her legs slowly with my knees, my breathing becoming shallow and frenzied. I touched her clit and she sighed. Her body relaxed slightly but still remained partially stiff.
I kissed the inside of her thighs and she lay there. Finally, I looked up, feeling annoyed. “What the hell Charlotte, it’s like trying to have sex with a damn starfish. You don’t look like you’re enjoying this at all” I snapped, glancing at her as she looked at me with an indecipherable expression on her face. “If you don’t feel like it then just say so” I was irritable.
Was it so wrong to want to be intimate with her? I was starting to feel neglected. Lately, she never wanted to be affectionate and it had all been about her. What more did she want from me? I had gotten the divorce like she had wanted. I was doing everything in my power to make her happy and she still complained. I was beginning to grow a little bit angry at the situation. I couldn’t help but compare her to Flair, as horrible as that sounded.
Flair would at least show some response when we made love. She wasn’t overly enthusiastic but she at least showed some initiative and was willing. She hardly ever complained and she cooked for me. Charlotte relied heavily on the cook and the housekeeper to take care of her needs. I didn’t mind that, but she didn’t have the energy to show any enthusiasm in our relationship. I couldn’t do everything.
“Fine” Charlotte snarled, “I’m not in the mood for a fuck right now Johnathon,” she said, as I sat there, feeling pissed.
“You should have said before I started” I growled.
“Well, I’m saying now” she shot back.
My hard-on deflated rapidly. I gave a growl of frustration as she sat up and rolled her eyes at me. “You can’t expect me to be in the mood when I’m upset like this” she complained.
“Charlotte, there is nothing I can do about the ring!” I practically shouted at her “I’ve asked your grandfather about it several times, to the point he’s about ready to take my head off. He’s not willing to give it to you. What do you propose I do? Steal it?” I snorted, glaring at her “You’re stuck with the ring you’ve got. Make the best of it” I advised her in a chilling tone.
“You don’t care about me” she pouted.
What? “Would you care to elaborate?” I said with gritted teeth.
“You haven’t taken me shopping for a dress for the engagement party,” she said sulkily, folding her arms across her chest.
Seriously, first a ring, now I had to take her shopping for a dress? I felt like banging my head against the wall. Why couldn’t she go dress shopping herself?
“Charlotte since when do you need me to go shopping with you?” I demanded.
“I shouldn’t have to buy my own dress for my engagement party. You’re the one proposing” she protested.
Was she serious? She’d already cost me a huge amount of money with the ring and now she wanted a dress as well?
“Johnathon, all of the wealthy families are going to be there. Do you think I can wear just any old dress?” she asked almost hysterically “no. It has to be designer. I would be a laughingstock if I didn’t wear either something custom-made or something that was a one-off by a well-known exclusive designer. How do you not know that?” she said with annoyance.
Probably because I didn’t care that much about clothes. With men, we just wore tailored suits or tuxedos. I sighed. She was making sense but it didn’t have to mean I agreed with it. “You have your own money” I pointed out.
She threw a pillow at me. “You’re my fiancee, you’re supposed to pay for it” she screeched while I winced “It’s not like you’re short on cash either Johnathon! Stop being such a skinflint” she added.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.