“Make it count.” His wife didn’t need the reminder. She secured two knuckles around his nipple and twisted with nothing short of savagery until he yelped, discomfort shooting through his pec. “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.” She twisted harder. “Natalie! SHIT.” Finally, she let go. And had the nerve to look innocent when he lifted his head to show her his incredulity. “You asked for it,” she said, blinking up at him. Smiling. He’d made her smile. After a fight. The bliss of that almost eclipsed his pain. Almost. “I’m afraid to look down and see if my nipple is still there,” he choked out. She yawned.
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