>Mallory
I’m dead. Completely dead. Soone please bury on the spot.
I stared at the disaster sitting on the stove. The food wasn’t just burnt—it looked like it survived a house fire and crawled out for revenge. A few minutes ago, I decided to pull myself together, swallow down whatever panic was left in , and walk out of the bathroom after hearing Asher knock. I thought maybe he needed help with sothing, or he wanted a snack, sothing normal. I even forced a smile in my face.
But no.
I walked out only to find my son standing there holding hands with my husband. Both of them staring at with these huge, worried eyes like two anxious puppies waiting for to break down. And honestly? That made everything inside twist.
What bothered the most was that he didn’t say anything. Not even a small comnt. Just silence. And because of that silence, I felt like I was walking on eggshells. The guilt from swatting his hand earlier—when he was just trying to help—was eating alive.
And because of that my head was a ss and this is the result.
My knees suddenly gave out, dropping straight to the kitchen floor. If the counter wasn’t there, I would’ve face-planted. My hands grabbed the edge so tight my knuckles went white. My legs felt like jelly, shaking from just standing. I sighed burrowing my face in my knees.
I was a ss. A pathetic, exhausted ss.
And the worst part? This was the least I could do for him. After everything he’s done—after he hired a world-renowned psychologist for my son, after he gave us a roof over our heads, food to eat, even paid monthly just to be his wife—this was nothing. Cooking shouldn’t be this hard. But right now, with my body feeling heavy and my brain barely keeping up, even standing felt like a challenge.
All I could think was: I can’t even do one thing right.
I felt like a total failure.
I was sinking deeper into that ugly thought when I heard the clinking of utensils above . Soft but sharp enough to yank out of my spiral. I slowly lifted my head, thinking maybe Asher was ssing with sothing.
Nope. Of course not.
It was Venzrich.
He was holding a spoon. A spoonful of my burnt, crunchy, probably-toxic "food." And before I could even open my mouth to stop him, he brought it up and actually put it inside his mouth.
He chewed. He. Chewed. It.
It made a sound—an actual crunch—that made my skin crawl. The look on his face didn’t change. No wince, no disgust, nothing. He ate it like it was normal.
The thing is—
The food wasn’t supposed to crunch when eaten.
No. Nope. Absolutely not. I wasn’t going to let him swallow that. I already had my share of guilt today, I can’t have more.
My body shot forward faster than my brain could think. One second I was staring in horror, and the next my fingers were already inside his mouth, trying to drag the burnt pieces out before he choked to death.
Ti froze. Everything just stopped when I realized what I was doing.
His tongue was under my fingertips. His lips were around my hand. And he was staring at like I had just done the most confusing thing in the world.
His eyes dropped to my fingers in his mouth, then lifted slowly to look straight at .
"Oh." His voice was muffled by my hand. And then—because my life apparently hates —his face changed. His confusion turned into sothing teasing. Sothing smug. Sothing that made my stomach twist in a very dangerous way. Then he stick his tongue out, my fingers still resting in it.
"Why didn’t you tell you’re into this kind of thing?" he said with a smirk, grabbing my wrist, pulling closer like it was nothing, and then—
He licked my fingers.
I don’t know what broke inside at that exact mont but—
That was so fucking sexy.
Heat slamd into my face so fast I thought steam might co out of my ears. My whole body felt like it was about to combust. My stomach twisted with this new warmth I didn’t even recognize. My heart pounded like it was trying to jump up my throat.
Why would he do that? Why would he make that face? Why would he say that? Did he know how unfair it was? Soone sowhere would pay money—serious money—to see him react like that.
Oh no. Oh no no no.
I finally lost it. It seems my six years of abstinence finally caught up in .
"W-w-what a-are you doing?!" I squeaked—actually squeaked. My voice cracked. My tongue tripped. I panicked so hard I nearly took out the chair next to . I yanked my hand out of his grip like it was on fire and, with whatever dignity I had left, turned around and ran upstairs to my room.
Actually ran.
I didn’t stop. Not even to breathe because if I did, I can’t even promise I still have control over what I would’ve done.
I slamd the door locked before finally collapsing in the floor, my back leaning at the door as I cupped my hot face.
I know that I put the clause about mutual consent in the contract just in case because I’m a sucker for a pretty face. And most of all it felt like such a waste, I don’t have that much belief in my own self control but I didn’t really expect sothing like this to happen.
AHHHHHHH...
My eyes shifted in my hands, as I gently rubbed my fingers together.
I can still feel the warmth of his mouth in my fingers. Maybe, I should’ve let him?
And again, heat started creeping up my face, even I don’t believe I was capable of the thoughts that was running inside my mind right now.
’Unbelievable’ I cursed.
I ran my hand over to my face and sighed so deep it felt like cursing. Maybe it was because I didn’t really know what to do right now.
"Am I really this horny?" I muttered to myself as I ran my fingers through my hair.
For pete’s sake. I was so disappointed with myself right now.
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