I get home late on the night of my wedding. After work, I stopped by one of my favorite bars with Jeremy and had some drinks, lamenting the life of a single man.

“You’re not really married, you know,” he had said to me back at the bar.

“For all intents and purposes, I definitely am,” I told him, and took a big sip of whisky.

Now, back at my house, I can already see differences. Bags are piled in the foyer, keys I don’t recognize are in a bowl in the hallway. I can smell food in the kitchen, and the television is playing some reality TV show I haven’t seen since college.

I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself. Well, I guess I do. I need to break Niko, and I’m willing to do anything to make that rat fuck pay.

Still, marriage…

I never pictured myself married.

Being single suited me just fine. If I got lonely, I found someone to spend time with me. If I wanted to fuck, I picked up a girl and took her home.

Being single was fun. It was satisfying.

Now, though, I’m married. No more running around. I have to take this seriously or else risk getting both me and Carly thrown in jail. And I can’t do that to her.

I sigh and grumble to myself as I walk down the hall and step into the kitchen.

And spot Carly sitting on the couch, in front of the TV.

She looks over at me. Her hair’s piled up in a messy bun on her head and she’s wearing a pair of tight black yoga pants, brown Ugg boots, and an old t-shirt. She’s not wearing makeup and she’s clutching a pillow in her lap.

And she looks fucking beautiful.

All at once, I understand why I did this. All at once, I realize why I wanted this so badly.

Carly smiles at me, and I smile back.

For a second, I forget she fucking hates my guts. I can pretend that we’re really married.

Fucking Carly. Beautiful, fiery, sexy Carly.

“What were you doing all night, asshole?”

I’m brought back to reality pretty quickly.

“Celebrating,” I say, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You?”

“Hauling boxes.” She glares at me. “I notice that you weren’t around to help.”

I shrug. “I assumed Avah hired some guys.”

“She did.”

“Then you’re all taken care of.”

“Thanks, hubby.” She turns away from me, staring at the TV.

I feel a sudden irrational jolt of anger. I storm into the living room and stand in front of the television. I cross my arms and glare at her until she pauses her show.

“I understand you hate me,” I say softly. “But now that you’ve signed the contract and gone through with the ceremony, you’re all mine. You do understand that, don’t you?”

She shakes her head. “I’m only yours to a point. Beyond that…”

I smirk, cocking my head. “You have no clue what you signed away.”

For a moment, uncertainty flashes across her expression. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, but it does.” I step toward her. “Tomorrow, I want you to wear a very short dress. Make it borderline inappropriate.”

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Short dress. Tomorrow. I want to see your ass shake when you walk.”

Her eyes go wide. “You can’t make me do that.”

“Yes, I can.” I walk over to her and look down. “I definitely can.”

She glares at me. “Don’t be a dick, Davis.”

“I’m not joking.” I bend down and put one finger under her chin, tilting her face up toward me. She blinks and bites her lip. “Wear a short dress. I want to see you wearing it tomorrow morning when I come down for breakfast. Do you understand?”

She says nothing, just gives me a hard stare. I smile and nod to myself before stepping away from her.

I leave her there in the living room, smiling to myself.

This is why I got married.

Oh, yes, this is definitely why.

Now I remember.

Playing this game with Carly is going to be very, very fun. We’ll just have to see who breaks first.

I wake like a kid on Christmas morning.

It’s a little past nine when I roll out of bed. I haven’t slept so soundly or so long in ages, but I feel refreshed as the sunlight streams in through my window.

I brush my teeth and shower before getting dressed. I choose a simple pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. I pull on socks before padding down the steps.

As I pass Carly’s room, I note that the door’s ajar. I peek my head in and find the space messy as hell, her bags half unpacked, clothes strewn all over.

But the room’s empty. Her bathroom door stands open and empty as well.

I smile to myself and head downstairs. I resist the urge to whistle a little tune as excitement flows through my body.

I get halfway down the steps when the smell of cooking eggs, bacon, and coffee assaults me. I haven’t had breakfast cooked in this house… well, ever. I’ve always had it delivered. I’m grinning as I hit the bottom step and turn toward the kitchen.

Carly’s standing in front of the stove, cooking something in the frying pan. I have to assume it’s eggs, based on the mess I see around her. Part of me wants to clean it up, but my eyes are instantly drawn to her body, and I forget all about the mess.

A smile spreads across my face.

The dress is short, tight, and black. It barely covers her ass, which is tight and round, just like I requested.

“Good morning, dear,” I say.

She turns to me. She’s wearing a little white apron and holding a spatula in her hand.

“Good morning,” she says, almost chipper. “Hungry?”

“Absolutely.” I frown a little bit, suddenly feeling suspicious. “Why are you cooking?”

“What, I can’t cook for my husband?” She smiles sweetly at me.

I cross my arms. “Did you poison it?”

She laughs. “Can’t collect my money if I kill you.”

“Maybe, although we are married now,” I point out.

She hesitates a second and I think I can actually see her consider murdering me.

Instead, she laughs. “Relax, Davis.” She looks over her shoulder. “I’m trying to play along, okay?”

I relax a little bit. I walk over and step up right behind her. She hesitates, surprised, as I take her wrist and move the spatula away from the eggs. I take the pan off the heat and turn off the burner.

She looks over her shoulder. “Thanks, they were done,” she murmurs.

I grab her hips and pull her ass against my hard dick. She makes a sound, half surprised yelp, half moan. I smirk and pull her from the stove, backing her up against the island.

She stares at me, biting her lip, as I pin her there.

“What’s your game, Carly?” I whisper in her ear.

“No game. Just playing my role.”

I chuckle darkly. “I don’t believe you, sweetheart. You hate me. We both know it.”

“I’m wearing the dress,” she says, and she actually blushes, although she sounds annoyed. “I’m cooking for you. I’m playing along. I just want this to go smoothly, okay?”

I smirk, lips grazing her throat. “Smoothly, you say?” I grab her hips, hoist her up onto the counter. She gasps as I push her legs open. “Exactly how smoothly do you want it to go?”

She bites her lips and grabs my hair. “Careful,” she says, but she doesn’t push me back.

I push her legs open wider.

She lets out this little noise. It’s half moan, half gasp. I bite my lip, my cock getting hard instantly, as she releases my hair and leans back, catching herself with her hands.

I stare at her panties. Navy blue with white polka dots and a little bit of lace around the edges.

She pushes her legs closed. “What are you doing?”

“Testing something.”

“Testing what?”

I push her legs open again. She still doesn’t resist me.

“You can tell a lot about what a woman’s thinking based on the underwear she chooses.”

Carly bites her lip. “What do mine say?”

I smirk and lean closer. I slowly slide my right hand up her thigh and press it against her pussy overtop of her panties. I can feel her heat radiating off, and slowly her wet pussy starts to drip through the thin cotton.

“It says you’re lying to yourself,” I whisper in her ear.

She doesn’t have time to say anything in response. I stoop down and push her skirt up, hiking it up around her hips. I grab her and pull her against my mouth, kissing her pussy with my tongue.

She gasps, surprised. I lick the fabric, tasting cotton and pussy. It tastes fucking good as I reach up with one hand to pull her panties and slip them aside.

Her pussy is pink and glistening wet. I can barely control myself. I want to fuck her, right here and now. I want to slide my cock deep, pump in and out of this incredible tight cunt, but it’s not time for that. She’s not ready.

Instead, I’m going to taste her, and give her a taste of what I can make her feel.

I lick her little pussy, smooth and clean, top to bottom. She lets out this little groan as I start to tongue her clit, rolling along it, tasting her delicious fucking juice.

“God damn,” I croon, teasing her with my fingers. “Fucking perfect. You know how you taste?”

“No,” she says, blinking.

I lick her pussy then stand up and kiss her.

She seems shocked at first, but quickly melts into it. I push my tongue along hers, letting her taste her own pussy.

“That’s how you taste,” I say, dropping back down between her legs.

“Shit,” she moans as I tongue her again, lapping her up, sucking and licking her clit. “I’ve never…”

I slide two fingers deep inside. “Tasted yourself?”

She nods, mouth open.

I slide my fingers back out and clean them off with my tongue. “You’re delicious. You really are.”

She bites her lip. “No way. You’re just being…”

I slide my fingers inside of her again, and this time, I make her clean them off.

She groans, sucking on my fingers. I tease her clit with my other hand and when she’s done, I decide not to play around anymore.

I slide my fingers back inside, curling them to tease her, finding the spot that’ll drive her wild. I drop down to suck and lick her clit, tonguing her little spot, making her hips rock.

This is only the beginning for her. She doesn’t know what she’s signed up for, but now she’s getting a taste.

And I’m getting a taste of this delicious fucking pussy.

I can barely control myself. It’s taking all my strength not to pull her off this counter, turn her around, and fuck her until she screams. I’d leave her in a puddle of her own cum when I finish with her.

But not yet. So close, but not yet.

I fuck her faster with my fingers. The sound of her moans reverberates through my ears. I fuck her deep, curling them, pressing against that spot. I lick her clit, sucking, eating, using teeth and tongue and lips, everything to drive her wild.

She rolls her hips faster, grabbing my hair with one hand. I go with her, match her speed and intensity. I bury my fingers deep, pushing her further, sliding in and out. The moans keep me going, keep me fucking hard.

“Oh, god, Davis,” she whispers. “You fucking asshole.”

“That’s right, insult me,” I say, fucking her with my fingers nice and fast. “You want to come, don’t you?”

Her eyes flash anger at me. “Yes,” she breathes.

“Then tell me how much you love my mouth on your pussy.”

“No way,” she says, eyes wide.

“Say it, Carly.”

“I love your…” She trails off.

“Say it.”

“I love your lips on my pussy. There, okay? Asshole.”

I push my fingers deep, making her gasp. I kiss her, bite her lower lip. “You say you want to play along, but I think you’re not obeying me at all yet.”

“I don’t have to obey anyone,” she says, teeth clenched.

“I think you do.” I slide my fingers in and out. “Tell me you want me to get you off.”

“Get me off.” Her hand grips my hair, pulling. “Get me off, you asshole.”

I grin at her, bite her lip again. “Say please.”

“Please,” she groans.

I drop down between her legs and I give her what she wants.

I lick her clit fast, sucking, tongue rolling. I fuck her with my fingers, pushing her, moving fast. Her hips roll and I keep my rhythm, matching her pace, and we move like that. It’s a dance, a fucking dance. I know she’s close, I can tell by the way her moans are completely unrestricted.

Finally, it comes. The orgasm rips through her, a powerful wave that sweeps up every muscle in her body, makes her throw her head back, a smile on her lips.

“That’s right,” I whisper, a thrill of desire running through me. “Come for your husband.”

She groans and slowly the orgasm finishes. When she’s done, I step back, leaning against the stove. I clean her off my fingers while she watches.

That was one of the sexiest fucking things I’ve ever seen. That orgasm was so intense, so incredible. She’s breathing heavily, staring at me with a mixture of desire, anger, lust, and hatred. It’s one of the most complicated things I’ve ever seen.

And I love it. She pushes her panties back into position and slowly hops off the counter.

“Your breakfast is ready,” she says as she walks out of the kitchen. “Enjoy, asshole.”

I grin and watch her walk down the hall. Her ass sways just a little bit. She looks over her shoulder as she mounts the steps and, buried under the anger, I can see the desire still there.

She walks upstairs and I smile to myself.

Yeah, being married is going to be fucking fun.