Five hours later, Sigrid was having murderous thoughts about her husband, not that she truly meant to murder him but the man was proving to be insatiable. What she had said as a joke, he had taken a lot more seriously and they had not left the bedroom for hours.
She was tired, sweaty and hungry___, starving was a better word for it.
Her body was rolled over and she faced Roland that was wearing a satisfied grin on his face.
"Why are you frowning?" he asked as he put his hand on her waist.
The hand did not stay still, it patted and pinched her gently while making its way down to cup her bottom.
"You want to do it again?" she asked, dismayed.
She slapped the stubborn hand and tried to pry it away but it was like prying a fistful of rice from a baby's hands, weirdly impossible.