The Styles Mansion [h.s]

fourteen

HENSON STYLES was fucking one of his employees and She was his brother's Nanny Ines Lovejoy.

My mind was racing like a wild horse not reaching to it's final destination to address Henson and Ines's sex encounter as an unstrained execution of opulent people. The scene wasn't leaving me alone but pestering me with the filthy sounds of Ines moaning Henson's name.

Never in a million years have I imagined something like that in my wildest dreams. The way both Ines and Henson bartered in the presence of everyone for that they both deserve to get two Oscars.

For the main role and best supporting role.

They wouldn't even smile towards each other in some noticeable way and the way Henson act as if he was some king was sitting in dinning table who doesn't like to colloquy with anyone except his family members.

Of course, Henson talks to me whenever we meet. As always, he would always be a great gentleman to me. Asking questions here and there about me and Harry's new friendship. No doubt, Henson is purely a good man.

But I haven't expected him to have sex with his employer.

His felicitous exchange with people was beyond amusing. Anyone can jump on the conversation of the fact that without any qualm Henson is a clean, polite and professional fellow.

And Ines, she would always play a role that she might probably learn from some Disney Princess. She would always put a shy and polite smile on her face like a good child.

They both have fooled everyone.

But why I'm frying my brain cells pondering about their sex life? I don't know but this was making me feel filthy from inside. I wouldn't have minded if they are fucking each other or not. But for some reason the horrible scene of their sex was making me sick.

Perhaps, I don't like Ines Lovejoy personally.

My thoughts were interrupted when my husband appeared in front of my door beside Shelley. He was adorned in a black t-shirt with a low neck which was showing his entire collarbone as also a little glimpse of his glorious tanned abs and his bird tattoos. A check printed baggy pajama was wrapped around his legs making him look like an adorable man. His unruled curls were messy and his eyes were puffy-red from sleeping.

I cast my eyes on his hands and realised, he was holding the butterfly glass box in his hand protectively and a man-child smile was dancing on his red lips.

"Wife." It was the only thing he said slowly walking towards my way where I was sitting on my bed with a book in my hand. I was trying to read something so that I could freshen my mind for some moments.

"Did you like it?" I asked scooting closer to him where he took a seat on my bed.

"You caught this for me?" Harry asked with a surprising tone.

I was confused for some moments but when realization hit me I understood what he was trying to say.

He thought it was the same butterfly that he endeavoured to catch.

"No harry I bought it for you from a store." I clarified looking at his hands. They were so huge. The glass box was looking less beggar in his hands.

"But it's the same one." He pointed out frowning as his olive green gems were shining over the glass jar.

I chuckled at his comments while shaking my head.

My husband is really cute.

"You said I can give it a name?" He asked, changing the topic.

"Yes, you can. What do you prefer?"

The butterfly was flying inside of the box making Harry look at it with amusement and curiosity. I observed him sitting in my position admiring the rich beauty of his appearance. My eyes fell on his lips and it just straightened all my hair on my skin.