There are times when I begin a book with an idea and I write down a moment before I forget it. That moment can't be the beginning, but I just love it so much that I can't let it go. For Anaya & Niall this was that moment:
Niall stalked up to his
wife and cupped her delicate face between his hands. “Let’s get something
straight. Outside of our home—”
“My house,” she pointed out with raised
eyebrows.
“Our home,” he said firmly. She’d never
made him feel unwelcome or even as a guest in this house. She was simply being
petulant. “Outside of our home, I’m your assistant and you can boss me
around, send me to fetch your coffee or tea. But inside this house, we are
equals. If I get you coffee or massage your shoulders, it’s because I choose to
do so as your husband.” He ran his thumb over her juicy bottom lip. “And in our
bedroom—”
“Now wait just a damn minute. Niall, I—”
“In our bedroom,” he raised his voice,
drowning out her objection, “I’m in charge. You’ll do what I say.” He was
pushing it, but they’d been heading in this direction from the beginning. Anaya
never objected to his dominance in bed. He wasn’t the sort of dominant that
required spanking or toys, but he did like to be the one in control. “If I want
to fuck, we fuck. If I ask you to suck my cock, you swallow. If I want to lick
your pussy, you’ll spread your legs with a smile.” He stepped closer until he
could feel her breasts brush against his chest with each of her rapidly indrawn
breaths. Her dark eyes blazed up at him, partly with fury, but passion lurked
in the brown depths. His hands dropped from her face. He slapped her on her
plump bottom. “Now take off your clothes and get in our bed. I’m in the mood to
ride my wife’s pussy.” She jumped a little at the tap to her behind. Her mouth
opened and closed but no words emerged. Finally, she nodded and scampered off
toward their bedroom. A grin stretched Niall’s lips.