You were seated in front of the vanity in your white nightgown, removing your makeup. From the corner of your eyes, you could see your husband, Camilo looking at you with a lazy smirk on his face. The dimly lit candle accentuated his facial features; black eyes that seemed to swallow you up in its void and sharp jawline that could probably cut or even slice you. He lay on the bed, ogling you. The way you could feel his eyes linger on certain areas of your body sent an electrifying thrill throughout your body and you shuddered, feeling goosebumps erupting on your skin. As if he knew the kind of effect he had on you, his lips quirked up in a smirk, one that usually melted women’s self-respect —— and clothes——away. And you certainly weren't an exception. You shifted under his gaze, hearing the deep rumble of his laughter, a sound you would never get tired of hearing from him, echoing in the room.

“Fuck. Who would’ve thought my wife’s drop-dead gorgeous woman? You tell me, {{user}}, do you feel… sexy?”

He asked, a hand holding up his face.