The door creaked open, a soft, intrusive sound, and Joe Norris stood silhouetted against the dim hallway light. "Ahem, after all, you lovebirds are a truly adorable couple," he said, his voice unnaturally bright, a forced cheer stretching his words thin.
"Ah, Wil, bro…" His laughter was brittle, a dry, awkward scrape against the room's intimacy, betraying his discomfort. His fingers flexed restlessly, his grin twitching as a flush crept up his neck—not for William and Samantha, but for his own clumsy intrusion into their tender moment.
Joe was a titan in business, a martial master of words who navigated deals and disputes with ease, his smart shine in the arena of commerce. William had seen it in countless lawsuits—Joe never bowed, never apologized, always choosing battle over concession. Yet now, he stood uncharacteristically sheepish, rubbing his neck, his eyes darting.
"Dang! Seems you two have been hooking up for a long time behind my back," William teased, a sly smile masking his own tangled emotions.
"Hey! What are you talking about?" Samantha pouted, her cheeks flushing, her playful indignation a pure goddess of charm.
"Just kidding," William said quickly, his smile softening the edge. "I'm messing with you."
Joe's face reddened, his voice stumbling. "I'm really sorry, man… for last night. It was good of you to let Sammy play along for my aunt's sake. I talked too much nonsense to her of my fake love story before, and you know how my aunt is—endless family gossip, drinks like a sailor, wouldn't leave. I'd blame the alcohol, but… Sammy's just too beautiful, too gorgeous, too sexy. I couldn't hold back." He glanced at Samantha, who lowered her head, her face a deep crimson, a child caught in a guilty act, her delicate fingers twisting the lace hem of her dress.
William forced a laugh, his heart a storm of jealousy and arousal. "Fuck, dude, it's okay. You both know my cuckold fetish. My dream came true last night—don't take it personally, man. We're still good friends."
He turned to Samantha, his voice softening. "And I love you, honey. We'll always be a great couple. But—"
He pivoted back to Joe, who was scratching his hair, embarrassment etched in his posture. "You gotta return my wife when your business is done!"
"Oh, for sure! Absolutely, that's a must," Joe said, his face breaking into a silly, fawning smile. "But, Sammy, my goddess, help me get through this trial first! Wil has no objections, see?" He flashed a clownish grin, trying to lighten the mood.
"Nah, I want to go home," Samantha declared, her voice firm yet playful, her pretty face shining with stunning beauty.
"What?!"
"What?!"
William and Joe exclaimed in unison, stunned by her words.
Samantha's eyes sparkled with mischief, her lips curving into a naughty smirk. "From now on, I'm the queen with the final say!" She rose, her tunic dress swaying with her hips, her lily scent trailing like a royal decree. With a toss of her golden hair, she glided downstairs, leaving William and Joe staring at each other in bewildered silence, two courtiers outmaneuvered by their sovereign.
Mrs. Norris's voice echoed from below, warm and commanding. "Come down for breakfast, dears!" The kind lady call broke the embarassy tension, pulling them back to the mundane rhythm of the morning.
The morning sun spilled through the lace curtains of Joe Norris's villa dining room, gilding the mahogany table in liquid gold. A tower of golden waffles stood at its center, their crisp edges glistening with amber maple syrup, each pocket cradling melted butter. A porcelain bowl brimmed with ruby strawberries, dewed with condensation, nestled in clouds of whipped cream. Sizzling bacon filled the air with its smoky allure, its edges crisped to perfection beside a copper dish of fluffy scrambled eggs, flecked with chives and a whisper of truffle oil. Warm croissants, their flaky layers exuding butter and yeast, sat beside a pot of shimmering apricot preserves. A carafe of orange juice glowed like captured sunlight, next to a silver espresso cup crowned with delicate crema, and a single ripe fig, split open to reveal its honeyed flesh, punctuated the feast with sweet promise.
Samantha presided over the table like a princess in her court, her Hermès white tunic dress clinging to her curves, the plunging neckline teasing her full breasts. She flirted with Joe effortlessly, her laughter a melodic tease, her beautiful eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned close, brushing his arm with playful intent. To Mrs. Norris, Samantha was the perfect daughter-in-law, coaxing the matriarch with sincere charm, her smiles and soft words weaving a spell of familial warmth. Her performance as Joe's fiancée was so natural, so seamless, it blurred the lines of their charade, leaving William and Joe exchanging glances of quiet confusion.
As Mrs. Norris rose to prepare another kettle of hot milk in the kitchen, her footsteps fading, William seized the moment, sliding closer to Samantha. His voice was low, urgent. "Honey, what did you mean by 'I have the final say' earlier?"
Samantha's lips curved into a naughty smirk, her eyes glinting with authority. "It means I have the final say, Baka. You two filthy boys need to discuss these dirty games with me first. But since I agreed to help Joe, I'll take care of your bro like his real fiancée." She emphasized "take care," her gaze flicking to Joe with a teasing edge, her voice a sultry command that echoed her declaration as queen.
Joe let out a foolish laugh, his cheeks reddening, his usual business-savvy confidence replaced by a boyish grin. William's mind spun, caught between amusement and awe. Samantha wasn't angry—she was thriving, her open, generous spirit embracing the cuckoldry game with a boldness that set his pulse racing. He trusted her, not just for her free-spirited nature but for the unbreakable bond of their love, a tether that held firm.