Ribbons Not Included by Demi Alex Page A

out of bed, recalling our latest argument: the television set and our demure sex life. Well, that was in the past. But, before I seduced him, I had to get rid of evidence that my enthusiasm was any bit ‘mechanical’ or motivated by anything other than my desire and need to make passionate love to my husband. He had to know how much I wanted him, had to know how much I needed to have him show me how much he loved me—in every physical way possible.
    Balancing on the uncomfortable black, strappy stilettos, I tried not to click too much as I returned to the bathroom and stuffed the box from the test into a drawer. I gave myself a quick glance in the mirror and admired the creamy curve of the tops my breasts. If things went as planned, they’d be much fuller soon and that only meant that Christian would want to suck on them more. Christian’s mouth was made for my nipples. It wasn’t uncommon for me to come from that simple act as I ground up against him.
    Game over.
    Time to get things heated and melt some of the ice on our winter windows. I wasn’t wearing these damn shoes for my health. I was wearing them because Christian liked to throw my legs over his shoulders and feel the heels scrape into his shoulder blades as my body bowed and begged for him to let me come.
    But Christian was so into the freaking game that he didn’t turn to look at me as I entered the living room. So, I decided on the direct approach. No more waiting around.
    I sauntered right in front of him, gave him my best damn-you’ve-kept-me-waiting look and crossed my arms over my chest, aware that my tits were pushed high and my nipples were about to spill over the lace material. I spread my feet, feeding his imagination on how wet my trimmed curls would be when he removed the tiny black strip of lace that led to my belly button.
    “I have needs,” I said, raising my foot and placing it squarely on his crotch. “And if you don’t meet them, I’ll have to find some other way.” Inserting my finger into my mouth, I swirled my tongue around the tip and eyed him as seductively as possible.
    “Move over, Kat. There is less than a minute of game time, then I’ll meet your needs.”
    Damn. My pulse raced and my nails dug into my palm. I made the first move and he blew me off. He’d picked the game over me.
    Just because we were married, just because our sex life had been good up until we decided to try for the baby, didn’t mean he could dismiss me like that. I wasn’t something to pass the time with. I mattered.
    The baby. Actually, what really mattered was that the timing was right for conception. I didn’t have the luxury of being pissed. We’d work out the rest. We always did.
    “I want you, now ,” I cooed, batting my eyelashes in a desperate come hither plea.
    “In that case, how can I refuse?”
    Shit. That was the quickest attitude adjustment ever.
    He moved my foot off his crotch and unzipped his fly. Taking his cock into his hand, he proved me that he wasn’t looking to put me off any longer. He was more than a little erect and ready to go.
    “Sit on the table, baby.” Using a very distinct and appealing appendage, he motioned to where he wanted me on the coffee table. “Spread those beautiful legs of yours and unsnap the teddy so that I can see the sexy treat that you’ve prepared for me.”
    I did as he requested, and he nodded his approval. He stood and dropped his jeans to the floor. Stepping out of them, he kicked them to the side and kneeled in front of me.
    “It’s been a long time,” he said, cupping my aching center and sliding his thumb between my moist curls to my clit. “You’d better be ready for me because I’m going to explode the moment I’m inside you.”
    “I’m ready,” I replied, reaching for him.
    “Don’t be a bad girl.” He swatted my hand away. “You do as you’re told or they’ll be consequences to pay.”
    My pussy clenched in anticipation. He wanted to play the control game—one of