Whipped (Hitched, #2)

Are both of those people me? Can I be just one side of that coin and still be happy?

It's been a lot to think about over the last few months, but it hasn't diminished the pleasure I've experienced being with Lachlan. It hasn't even bothered me that once he and his manager cooled off he was back at work turning women on.

I trust him, though. I know he's just performing. Just like it wasn't sexual with my clients when I was a Dom. I've given some thought to taking on a client or two, but it hasn't felt right. Not with Lach in my life. I understand why he's ready to leave the Aussie Posse. In addition to wanting to build something else with his life, it takes a lot of emotional and sexual energy to give people their fantasy day in and day out. Our jobs aren't so different.

But God, these last few months. I've become one of those people you avoid on Facebook because all my status updates are about how happy I am.

You'd think that after a few months of being with Lachlan every night, waking up to him every morning, fucking him every day—more than once—that the bloom would fade from the rose. That his tricks would wear thin and his cock would no longer be as satisfying.

You'd be dead wrong.

But.

BUT.

Routines happen, ya know? This is my home. I'm used to living alone. We haven't been a couple that long. And… did I mention I'm used to living alone?

I'm also used to being able to let my shit hang out at home. At work, both at Whipped and when I was a Dom, I have to be neat, orderly, all things in their place and in control. In my abode, I let my hair down and like things… casual.

Lachlan, surprisingly, is not quite as lackadaisical about his environment. Which he's making abundantly clear.

"Vi, babe, seriously? The laundry basket is literally less than a foot from the dirty clothes you dumped in the bathroom. Hon, I adore you to death, but really?"

He stands in the hall holding the wicker basket with a pained expression on his face.

I hold up my laptop as I slouch on the couch. "I'm about to level up on Diablo. I'll tidy up later."

"You always say later and later never happens."

"That's not true," I say as I kick some major spider ass with my badass magical powers. "Later just hasn't arrived yet. You really stress out too much about the little things, my dear. Try to relax."

He drops the basket with so much drama I laugh as he scurries to the kitchen. "Something smells heavenly," I say. "What's for dinner?"

"Chickpea and potato curry with coconut sauce," he says from the other room.

"Oh my God, you are amazing."

He pokes his head out. "That's what she said."

I break from my game and throw a couch pillow at his him. "Ass."

He winks at me and ducks back into the kitchen. "You know babe, I don't have time to do all the cooking and the cleaning."

"Then don't clean." Seems reasonable enough to me. I mean, it's not like I let things get gross. They just get a bit… untidy. There is a difference, which is lost on Mr. Neat Freak.

"You know that's not a possibility," he says.

"I did offer to cook," I remind him as I finally level up.

He groans. "Yes. About that. I'm still recovering from the last time. I can't eat spaghetti and meatballs without feeling nauseous. I didn't know a person could screw up spaghetti."

"It's a gift," I tell him. I'm aware of my shortcomings when it comes to domestic life. That's what take-out is for. And why I'll never live in a small town where shit closes early and pizza is the only option. Nope, I'm a big city girl that runs 24/7 in all weather.

I'm lost in my next quest when Lachlan takes my computer away and pulls me off the couch. "I've just realized something."

"That you interrupted my game and got me killed?" I frown at him and reach for my computer but he blocks me with his delicious body.

"No. I realized why we've been bickering more lately."

"Why's that?"

"It's been more than twenty-four hours since we fucked."

I laugh. "And?"

"And that's obviously too long for us. It must be remedied, stat."

"Or what?"

He pulls me to him, tightening his grip around my waist. "You don't want to know the or what. Trust me."

And then he lifts me into his arms and carries me to my bedroom, which has become our bedroom in recent months.

I feign resisting, but I enjoy the teasing, the foreplay, the roughness as he throws me onto the bed and pulls off my pants. "I want you, Vi. Now."

"Then take me. If you can."

What ensues is an erotic wrestling match where he pushes my legs open, I fight him, there are love bites and a few playful slaps, and then I am on my knees, legs spread, as he pounds his cock into my eager pussy.

When he slaps my ass, the sting of it makes me so hot I come on his cock while he fucks me more.

And then I come again when he comes, both of us sweaty, out of breath, and satiated. For now.

In his arms, I sigh, snuggling closer, enjoying the scent of his body and the feel of his muscles under my hands.

He nuzzles my hair and kisses my head, and I can feel his smile as he says, "I think we leveled up."





CHAPTER 16





LACH