Marking Arielle

I relax on our new sofa, feeling at ease in my own home for the first time in years. It took a few months, but we've transformed this into our house, down to the last detail. Spending my weekends shopping for decorations has been a lot more enjoyable than I could have imagined. Being with someone who values my viewpoint and doesn't always want to have her way has been quite refreshing. I groan, staring at the clock in the living room. The only thing missing tonight is Arielle . She has been working late every night this week. If she isn't shooting a campaign, she's working on her fashion creations or joining Grandma and Bianca at their many charitable events. Although I admire her hard work, I also miss her. I grab my phone and scan through her Instagram photographs, hoping to catch another glimpse of her, and it only takes three seconds for me to become irritated by all of the comments males leave under her photos. Fucking arseholes. Don't they know she is married?I grit my teeth and navigate to my personal account. I don't manage it, and my team primarily posts about movie films we're sponsoring, with the occasional Warren family event added in to give me a more personal touch. I've never had an interest in it. Even though I work in the media, I have always regarded social media to be toxic. Since marrying Arielle , I've become more active on social networking. I smirk and select my favorite shot of my wife. It's one of the first photos I shot of her, showing her sleeping with her shoulders exposed. It's a clear post-sex photo, but I don't give a damn. After all, I intend to lay my claim. I smirked as I posted the photo and tagged it with just two words: my wife. ? I'm still laughing when I hear the front door open. Arielle smiles when she sees me, and I meet her halfway, kissing her much rougher than I should have. I love how she always wraps her arms around me, regardless of where we are or who is watching. The way she responds to me is never influenced by anyone around us. "Hey... Why are you smiling like that?" Check your Instagram. I tagged you in a post." Her gaze moves up to my face, and she tilts her head suspiciously. Arielle frowns as she reaches inside her purse, and for a second, I worry if I went too far by publishing what I did. But then she smiles and flushes deep crimson. "Ariel," she adds in a hoarse voice. Fuck. She's fucking hot. She even pronounces my name perfectly. "Are you crazy?"I shrug. "Maybe a little." Her smile fades, as it does whenever she thinks about Loretta. Arielle has a lot more guilt than I do, and her recent confrontation with Loretta crushed her heart. It was easier for me to draw a line with Loretta than it would be with Arielle . "You've been working far too hard recently, and you know it's serious when it comes from me." She nods and touches her shoulder. "I know," she murmurs. I softly cupped her cheek and sighed. She is overworking herself in an attempt to ignore the anguish Loretta has inflicted. It's what I've always done, so I understand, but it's unhealthy. "I've got something for you," I say. "Come to the kitchen with me." She nods. "I have to wash off all of this stage makeup on my body," she says. "Give me a minute, and I'll meet you in the kitchen, okay?"" I plant a kiss on her forehead, and she walks away, her entire posture showing the sadness that weighs her down. I can't help but feel bad about my role in their fallout. How do I alleviate her worries and pain? Should I have tried more to retain Loretta in our lives? Should we have suppressed the fact that our marriage is more than just for convenience in order to allow Loretta more time to heal through our separation? Would it have been better? I check my phone and open my email, pausing to look at Loretta's dozens of unopened messages. Should I have tried harder to remain friends with her? I do not want to be the reason Arielle loses her sister. She's already sacrificed so much for both Loretta and me, and I don't understand how Loretta doesn't recognize this. The fact that Arielle achieved some happiness despite Loretta's choice does not discredit her sacrifice. I grab the chocolate lollipop I'd flown in from Paris and place it on the counter, smiling. Arielle enters shortly later, her hair wet and a silk robe loosely wrapped around her. I'm wondering if she'll ever stop mesmerizing me. Will I ever be able to watch her enter a room without having my entire body react? "Come here." I extend my hand, and she takes it, curling her fingers around mine. "Didn't you eat today?"She shook her head. "How much did you exercise today?" "About three hours in all." I throw my arms around her waist and raise her onto the kitchen counter. "Baby," I whispered. "You cannot keep doing this. It's unhealthy, and I can't tolerate seeing you like this. You are famished and overworking yourself. What for?" She shook her head and cupped my cheek, her gaze fixed on mine. "I know," she murmurs. "I have contracts I don't want to walk away from, Ariel because all of these companies are also my peers when it comes to running my own fashion line." I groan and lower my brow to her breast. If I begged her to stop, would she? Do I have the right to ask her something like that? Her arms wrap around my neck, and her chin settles on top of my head. "I'm going to quit modeling soon," she says, and I glance up sharply. She smiles and buries her fingers in my hair. "I worked as hard as I could since that was all I had. I used it as an escape, Ariel, but I don't need to anymore. My life is no longer empty, and I no longer seek the affirmation that my previous profession provided. I'm going to shift my attention and go all in on my fashion line. I guess I might also be interested in Warren Media if that's acceptable.I grin at her. "I'd like nothing more. Arielle, you and I would do fantastic things together. We could also bring your fashion brand under the Warren umbrella, allowing us to invest more funds in it." She nods, a nice peaceful smile on her face. Arielle raises her hand and gently runs a finger across my forehead, down my nose, and over my lips. "What's wrong?"She asks. "You don't appear happy. I don't have to join you at Warren Media, you know? I'm content to simply do my own thing." I tighten my grasp on her waist and shake my head. "No, that is not it. Not at all. "I would love nothing more than to collaborate with you, Arielle." I pause for a second. "Do you remember the time you got drunk and I picked you up from the bar? I can't stop thinking about what you said that night. You were clearly attempting to get someone out of your system, but are you over him now?" Her eyes widen, and she glances away. "No," she replies, her smile sad. Her gaze meets mine, and she leans closer, the back of her palm brushing against my cheek. "I don't think I'll ever get over you, Ariel." She chuckles and tilts her head, a vulnerable look on her face. "It has always been you. Maybe it's horrible and twisted up, but I wanted you long before you became mine. I loved you before I said I did." I grab her chin and pull in for a passionate kiss. I've never needed someone to feel my affection quite so much. "Ariel," she murmurs, wrapping her legs around my waist. I draw away and smile as I reach past her to get the lollipop I got her. "Suck this," I tell her, dropping to my knees between her legs. "You have your lollipop," I say as I part her robe, "and I'll have mine." I kiss the inner of her thigh, relieved to discover that she is not wearing anything underneath her robe. Arielle sighs when I kiss her pussy, and I smirk as I glance up at her and see fire in her eyes. "Complete every last bite of it, and I'll make you come. The longer you take to eat it, the longer I'll torture you." I laugh as she buries one hand in my hair and lifts her other hand to her face, biting into her cupcake just as my tongue parted her folds and went straight for her clit. I am totally crazy with her, and every day, I will make sure that everything we lose along the way is worthwhile.