Natasha's fingers ran through Anton's hair, her other hand resting gently on his arm as he settled into her lap. His eyes locked onto hers, and his voice was low and urgent. "Marry me."

Her hand stilled, and her tone was one of indifference. "No."

“Please.” Natasha scowled, her irritation simmering. “No.” “What does Greg have that I don’t? Even as a second wife, you’d have better standing than staying with that cuck. Does he enjoy you being filled with my cum every time you get home?”

Natasha chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Your one-sided hatred is almost comical. Want to know what Greg has that you don't? He prioritizes my happiness. And he never would’ve abandoned me for Valerie." Anton's face darkened as he stood and paced across the room.“I’d hit you if you weren’t so goddamn special to me.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, sipping her wine. "That's reassuring. You really know how to win me over." “Be quiet!” Anton's anger boiled over. “It’s like you want to drive me crazy. Or do you want me to be pushed so far as to hit you so our contract will be voided? If you want to stay with Greg then fuck both of you!”

Natasha set her wine down, her gaze locked on Anton's. She dropped her robe, the fabric pooling at her feet. "Your passion's back. Care to put it to good use?" Anton's scowl softened, frustration warring with desire. "Yeah," he muttered.

As Natasha drew closer, her voice teased. "Will you behave and stop cursing Greg?" Anton's response was a low growl, his lips claiming hers as soon as she was within reach. "Greg who?"