Love Contractually

Chapter Eighteen

"I'm so ready." I tell him as I pull up my leggings. We can hear the vans coming up the road, I feel it in my eyes, the readiness. The eagerness to start organising. This is what I was made for.

"Did you have to wear those leggings though?" Thomas groans.

"This is going to be a workout." I tell him like it's obvious.

"That reminds me, we have to start using our gym soon, it's a travesty not to use such beautiful equipment." He says. I groan gently, making Thomas chuckle and I open the front door, starting to guide the movers as to which room the boxes go to. Thomas helps the mattress people switch the mattresses, then helps carry things up the stairs.

I get the lighter things all the way up to the top floor, just chucking things in the right place until the vans slowly empty. We get the furniture in after the boxes and within two hours, our home looks a lot more like a home, and feels like one too.

Once the movers and delivery people leave, I grab everything that needs to be washed and I start filling the washing machine. I go to Thomas's room to get his sheets, and I see him installing a small safe in one of the drawers in his wardrobe.

"What's that for?" I ask, picking up his sheets. Thomas starts to blush a little, so I put his sheets down and I walk over. "I'm your wife, Thomas." I remind him.

"It's something I want to keep safe." He says.

"I had a feeling." I say and roll my eyes. "But what is it?" I ask. "Show me." I pout gently. He rolls his eyes this time and opens the safe, showing me a familiar white book. "My pictures?" I ask, grabbing the book, opening it to see the steamy photos.

"They're mine." He says firmly. "Only for my eyes, or yours, I suppose." He says possessively. "Close it, Hannah, please."

"Why?" I ask, holding the open book to my chest. "What's wrong with my pictures?" I ask, stepping away from him.

"They're already delaying our plans of organising our home." He says, and I see his eyes travel over my body.

"They're our plans. We can delay them." I smirk gently. "Ugh, the shower ones are definitely my favourite." I say, showing him the page I am on. He slams his hand down on the book, making it fall on the floor, slamming closed. Thomas makes me gasp as he picks me up and throws me onto his bare mattress. He lays over me, holding himself up, but keeping his face almost on mine, our noses brushing.

"You're being so naughty these days Princess." He says, narrowing his eyes. "Maybe you're a brat, maybe you're no princess after all."

"Maybe someone hasn't put me in my place in far too long." I tell him, glaring gently. He just smirks and runs his hand over my body, my muscles naturally contracting a little.

"So receptive to my touch, aren't you?" He smirks. I can't say anything, so I just shake my head defiantly. "No?" He asks, sliding his hand under my leggings, rubbing me over my thin lace panties. I moan, my head pushing back gently.

"Thomas." I whimper, one hand trying to grip on the mattress, one on his arm, my nails digging in a little.

"Is my little brat already trying to beg for me?" He asks in a condescending, baby voice. I groan, glaring at him and I try to pull away from him and his magic fingers, but he keeps me still, sliding his hand under my panties, making me gasp. "You're soaked." He growls. "Your body is betraying you, princess." He says, kissing my neck, marking it as his as his fingers slide down a little then push inside me, making me gasp again and my body writhes at the way his thumb can still rub me so precisely.