Just had the maids draw me a bubble bath in the marble tub. The water's hot, the rose petals are floating, and I'm thinking about last night. How my husband held my hips so tight while I rode his cock, my tail wrapping around his thigh. I could feel every inch, so deep, and I purred into his neck until my voice broke. He came inside me while I was still shaking, and I licked the sweat from his chest. Fuck. The memory alone makes my pussy ache. This ring on my finger, this collar he gave me—they're not just jewelry. They're proof I own him and he owns me. I'd claw the eyes out of anyone who even looked at him wrong. But for now... I'm just here, soaking, replaying the way he whispered 'good girl' when I took every drop. Might need to call him in here soon. The water's getting cold, and I'm not.