Nana had been so excited to surprise her husband at work. She'd made his favorite lunch, packed it carefully, and dressed in her cutest outfit. She wanted to see him in his element—the powerful CEO everyone talked about.
But when she reached the main lobby of his company, her excitement turned to something else entirely.
Xavier stood near the reception desk, surrounded by at least five women—all tall, beautiful, impeccably dressed in professional attire. They were laughing at something he'd said, leaning in too close, touching his arm with familiarity that made Nana's chest tight.
One woman—particularly tall with long legs and perfect hair—was practically pressed against his side.
Nana's 153cm frame felt even smaller suddenly. Less sophisticated. Less... everything.
Xavier's blue eyes found hers across the lobby, brightening immediately. "Starlight! You're here—"
But she'd already turned around, the lunchbox clutched to her chest, and walked out.
She had a plan forming. A punishment. One he'd never forget.
.
.
.
.
.
⭐⭐⭐
Xavier came home that evening, guilt heavy in his chest. He'd tried calling Nana multiple times, but she'd sent every call to voicemail. Her text had been simple: *I'm fine. See you at home.*
But something in those words promised trouble.
He pushed open their bedroom door and froze completely.
Nana sat on their bed wearing... barely anything. Pink and white bunny lingerie that was more strategic fabric placement than actual clothing. The top was essentially lace and dreams, so tight it looked painted on. No bra—clearly—just sheer material that left nothing to imagination. Matching panties that were little more than strings. And on her head, adorable bunny ears that somehow made the whole ensemble more devastating.
She was casually eating macarons from a pink box, her legs crossed, looking at him with innocent eyes that promised sin.
"Welcome home, husband," she said sweetly.
Xavier swallowed hard. He'd been achingly hard since the car ride home, thinking about her, worried about why she'd left so suddenly. Now he was so hard it was almost painful.
"Starlight..." His voice came out rough. "What are you wearing?"
"Do you like it?" She stood, walking toward him slowly. Her hand reached out to palm him through his pants, feeling his hardness. "Or do you prefer those tall, pretty women from your lobby?"
Ah. So that's what this was about.
"Those were colleagues—"
"Who were touching you. Leaning on you. Laughing at your jokes like you were the sun and they were flowers trying to reach you." Her hand squeezed him, and he groaned. "Do you know how that made me feel? Seeing my husband surrounded by women who are everything I'm not?"
"Nana—"
"No." She pushed him toward the bed, surprising him with her force. "Tonight is my turn to punish you. Sit."
He sat, more from surprise than obedience.
"Now," she settled on the chair across from him, crossing her legs, "I want you to pleasure yourself."
His eyes widened. "What?"
"You heard me." She took another bite of macaron. "Touch yourself. Stroke yourself. Show me what you do when you think about me."
"Starlight, I'd rather just touch you—spread those pretty legs and—"
"If you don't do it," she interrupted, "there's no night for you. At all. I'll sleep in the guest room and you can suffer alone."
She meant it. He could see it in her eyes.
"You're serious."
"Completely." Another macaron. "So? Are you going to obey? Or are you going to spend the night alone, thinking about me in this outfit?"
Fuck.
With a resigned sigh that was more aroused than annoyed, he unzipped his pants and freed himself. He was already hard, flushed, and the sight made her breath catch even as she tried to maintain her composed expression.
"That's better," she said, though her voice was slightly breathless. "Now stroke. Slowly. I want to watch."
His hand wrapped around himself, and he began moving with slow, deliberate strokes. His eyes never left her—the way she looked in that lingerie, the way her breath was getting faster, the way her legs kept shifting.
"You look so beautiful," he said roughly. "This outfit—fuck—you're killing me, starlight."
"Good." But her face was flushed now, her hand gripping the macaron box tighter. "Keep going. Faster."
He did, his pace increasing, his breathing getting heavier. "This is torture. Watching you sit there looking like that while I have to—"
"While you have to do it yourself?" She smiled, but it was shaky. "Like I have to watch you be surrounded by other women?"
"They mean nothing." His hand moved faster. "Nothing. You're—god—you're everything. The only woman I see. The only one I want."
"Then why—" Her voice broke slightly. "Why were they so close?"
"Because they don't respect boundaries and I was too polite." His hips were moving now, seeking more friction. "Tomorrow I'll make it clear. Will have HR send a memo. Whatever you want. Just—please—let me touch you—"
"Not yet." But she was squirming in her chair now, clearly affected by watching him. "I want to see you come first. Want to see you desperate."
"I'm already desperate—have been since I saw you in the lobby—thought about you all day—" His words were getting disjointed. "Close—I'm close—"
"Then come," she whispered. "Come for me, Xavier."
He did, with a curse and a groan, his light Evol flickering around them as he lost control. It spilled over his hand, his stomach, more than usual after building up all day.
But he was still hard. His abilities meant his refractory period was nearly nonexistent, especially with her sitting there like that.
Before she could react, he used his Evol to teleport—appearing behind her in an instant, scooping her up.
"Xavier! I didn't say you could—"
"Don't care." He positioned her over his length, lowering her down in one smooth motion. "Watched you long enough. My turn now."
"Ah!" She gasped as he filled her completely. "That's not—you didn't listen—"
"Never do when it comes to you." He began moving her, using his strength to bounce her on him like she weighed nothing. "You want to punish me? Fine. But I get to show you exactly what those women could never have. What's only yours."
His pace was immediately desperate, no slow buildup. He'd been denied too long, wanted her too much.
"Look at you in this outfit," he groaned, his hands roaming over the barely-there fabric. "Did you wear this to torture me? To make me lose my mind?"
"Yes—" she whimpered, tugging at his silver-blonde hair. "Wanted you to—ah!—to suffer—"
"Mission accomplished." His mouth found her neck, biting marks into her skin. "But now you suffer too. Feel how hard I am? How deep? This is what you do to me. Only you."
"Xavier—so deep—too much—"
"Not too much. Perfect." One hand squeezed her breast through the sheer fabric. "This outfit—fuck—we're keeping this. You're wearing this every time you want to punish me."
"It's working then?"
"Too well." He stood, still buried inside her, and pressed her against the wall. "I love when you're seductive like this. When you take control. When you show me this confident, playful side."
"Really?" Her voice was breathy, overwhelmed.
"Really." He thrust harder. "Love that you get jealous. Love that you care enough to punish me. Love everything about you, starlight. Every mischievous, adorable, sexy thing."
She came with a cry, clenching around him, and he followed almost immediately, filling her completely.
But he wasn't done. He carried her back to the bed, laying her down, his body covering hers.
"We're going all night," he informed her. "Until you understand—truly understand—that no other woman exists for me. Until you forget you were ever jealous. Until the only thing you remember is how much I love you."
"Xavier—"
"That's an order, starlight." He kissed her deeply. "And unlike your punishment, I know you'll obey this one."
She did. They made love through the night—him worshipping every inch of her, proving with his body what words couldn't convey. That she was his entire world. His light. His everything.
And by morning, when they lay tangled together in sheets that definitely needed washing, she finally believed it.
"No more jealousy?" he asked, stroking her hair.
"Maybe a little," she admitted. "But next time, I'll just come to your office and sit on your lap in front of everyone."
He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Please do. I'd love to see their faces."
"You're terrible."
"But you love me."
"Desperately." She kissed his chest. "Even when you're surrounded by tall, pretty women."
"They could be supermodels and I wouldn't notice." He tilted her face up. "Because I'm too busy being obsessed with my small, adorable wife who wears bunny lingerie to punish me."
"Did it work?"
"Too well. Now I have a new fantasy to add to the collection."
She giggled, and he held her closer, grateful that even when she was jealous, even when she punished him, it always ended like this.
With them together. Completely in love. Thoroughly satisfied.
And already planning their next playful battle of wills.
.
.
.
.
.
⭐⭐⭐
THE END.