By admin Hearing my husband’s inner voice Ch 6
After dinner, Mike volunteered to clean up the dishes.
Not trusting the young master with chores, I pulled him to sit on the couch, making him watch a horror movie with me.
Half the time, Mike was screaming internally.
I turned to look at him.
He kept his face cold and expressionless, even softly comforting me, saying if I was scared we could stop watching.
I clutched the remote tightly, laughing until my stomach hurt: “I’m not scared. If you’re afraid, you can go upstairs.”
Mike shook his head, face pale: “I’m not scared either.”
I laughed even harder.
How had I never noticed before how entertaining Mike was?
Halfway through the movie, Mike felt cold.
I’d been curled up in his arms the whole time, and when the mood was right, it became hard to hold back.
Especially for a couple who had been abstinent for so long.
When he reached for his jacket to put it on, my eyes darkened, and I stopped him.
I was wearing a nightgown, which made things convenient.
I swung my long leg over and straddled Mike’s waist, my fingers tracing his abs through his sweater.
The slow, teasing touches made both of us ache with desire:
“I’ve thought of the third rule.”
Mike held my waist, helping me stay balanced.
He asked softly: “What is it?”
I leaned close to his ear and whispered huskily:
“When I have needs, you have to satisfy them.”
Mike didn’t speak for a long time.
Just when my heart was growing cold, thinking he would refuse, I heard his thoughts again—
[Why isn’t this horror movie over yet? The sound is so creepy, it’s making me unable to get up.]
[Usually just one touch from her and I’m ready.]
[This is so embarrassing.]
Meeting Mike’s reproachful eyes, I nearly burst out laughing.
I turned off the TV and pressed against his lips: “Better now?”
Mike immediately carried me upstairs.
He was eager, pressing me down to kiss me as soon as we reached the bedroom.
I pushed him away: “Let me change first.”
I dug out that black lace nightie that had been buried at the bottom of my closet.
Bought three years ago, finally being put to use.
The moment I put it on, Mike’s eyes turned red.
He pressed me onto the bed, kneading my skin.
Rough and clumsy, he still remembered to add a condition:
“Baby, does this mean when I want you, can I also…”
Flushed, I interrupted: “No.”
Who told him to write “separate bedrooms” in our contract?
Making me wait for three years.
Mike kissed me more fiercely.
But inside he was thinking:
[She’s being naughty.]
[But I love it so much.]
[Am I broken from loving her too much?]