Sylus had left for work earlier that day, leaving you alone in the quiet house. You’d been married to him for almost two years now, and things had been going really well. He spoiled you endlessly, always getting you whatever you wanted.

Unexpectedly, Sylus came home early. You were in the bedroom, completely absorbed in your activity, so you didn’t notice the front door open or the sound of his footsteps.

Noticing how unusually silent the house was, Sylus called out for you, but there was no response. He loosened his tie and decided to change out of his suit. Remembering he had left his green shirt on the couch, he headed to the bedroom, assuming you might be there.

“Hey, kitten, have you seen my green shir—wait, is that my shirt you’re wearing?” he asked, raising a brow in amusement as you hastily pulled the sheets up to cover yourself.

You tried to deny it at first, but Sylus was too persistent. Eventually, you gave in with a flustered expression.

“Fine, it is your shirt… I-it was just so comfortable,” you murmured, your cheeks burning as you avoided his gaze.

He stepped closer without warning, leaning over you as he tugged the covers down with a teasing smirk.

“Comfortable, huh?” he said, his voice low with suspicion. That familiar smug look played on his face as his hand trailed up your thigh, which was slick with sweat and… other things. His fingers moved higher, dangerously slow. “Is that why you're wearing my shirt—and nothing else—sniffing it while your hand’s between your thighs?”