Page 104 of Meant for Mayhem

“Mine.” My voice was rough, hardly sounding like me I was so turned on by this conversation.

Mikko’s eyes raked over my body again. “No one but you, Shannon. Even before we were married, it was only you in my head.”

The words landed like a spark on dry kindling, sending a wave of heat over my body that was so sudden, I finally understood the phrase weak in the knees. I sank down on the edge of the bed, towel clutched against my chest, barely breathing from the intensity of it all.

He clocked it, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Tell me what to do, Shannon,” he repeated.

The way he kept looking at me had me feeling brave. “I want to see you. Only fair since you got a free show, right?”

His eyes lit with that same fire that was burning me from the inside out.

I lifted my chin, trying not to let him see how affected I was. But the moment his eyes flicked down to my chest, I knew he saw right through the façade. Saw how my chest rose and fell with quick breaths.

Mikko reached behind his neck and pulled off his t-shirt in one smooth motion, revealing miles of pale skin stretched over powerful muscles. My breath caught as he toed off his shoes, then shoved down his jeans and boxers in one go.

This time it was my turn to stare, taking my fill of him. And good god, there was a lot to take in. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carved like a statue. A few faint scars marked his torso, but they only made him more real, more him. Blond hair, sharp jaw, those striking blue eyes watching me the entire time. My eyes dropped lower, and I swear his dick twitched the moment I truly looked down. He was perfect—thick, hard, and flushed. I could hardly breathe, imagining what it would feel like to be with him.

Before I realized what I was doing, I stood from the bed, closing the distance between us like I was drawn in by some invisible force.

“This is a bad idea, right?”

“Only if you think it is.” Mikko’s voice was like gravel, his eyes fixed on my face. “Anything you want is yours, wife.”

I stood out of arm’s reach, still clutching my towel like it held the last scrap of sanity. “I am your wife.”

Mikko’s chest inflated at the word. “Tell me what you want, Shannon.”

Again, he said it, his chest rising and falling with each word. And again, I heard that this man who loved to control every minute of every day was handing that control over to me. Asking me what I wanted, instead of telling me what he needed.

“Touch yourself.”

His eyes flared, but he moved to the chair in the corner of the room and sat, legs spread, completely unashamed. Without breaking eye contact, he wrapped one large hand around his cock and stroked slowly from base to tip. A low sound rumbled in his chest as he moved it up and down in steady motions, squeezing at the top.

I backed up until my legs hit the bed and sank down onto it, towel still clutched in front of me, unable to look away. I drank in the sight of his abs flexing, his thighs tensing, the slow, deliberate pumping of his fist. Every detail burned into me until I felt like I was about to combust.

“Drop the towel, rakas.”

The words were so commanding, so full of desire, I couldn’t stop myself from obeying. The towel fell, pooling around my hips until I was naked again beneath his gaze, the air between us crackling with raw desire.

I couldn’t even count the number of romance novels I’d read that had detailed similar scenes to this, but the reality in front of me surpassed every fantasy I’d ever imagined. The way Mikko’s cock throbbed in his grip, visibly affected by the sight of me… intoxicating. The way his eyes trailed over my body… addicting. The way his voice rumbled from his chest… empowering.

“Fuck, Shannon,” he rasped, voice low. “You are so damn gorgeous. Spread your legs for me. Let me see that pussy.”

Maybe I had some sort of submissive kink I wasn’t aware of, because whether or not I meant to, my thighs parted. Trembling fingers slid down, brushing over slick, sensitive skin. A soft moan escaped the instant they found my clit.

“That’s my good girl,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Rub that pretty clit. Play with yourself while I stroke my cock for you, like I imagined.”

“I thought we were doing what I wanted.” The words slipped out, laced with a hint of snark even through the haze.

Mikko’s eyes darkened, a mix of heat and amusement flickering across his face. His hand slowed as he leaned forward. “I wondered if you’d be bratty.”

A laugh rumbled out of me, but I didn’t apologize.

“Is this not what you want, Shannon?” His voice dropped, filthy and intense. “To feel the same way you’re making me feel?”

I nodded, surprised by my compliance. But when Mikko looked at me like he wanted to devour me whole, when he told me exactly what he wanted…