Ariel’s Duke (Silver Spoon Underworld #2) Read Online Loni Ree

Categories Genre: Insta-Love, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Silver Spoon Underworld Series by Loni Ree
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Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 69(@200wpm)___ 55(@250wpm)___ 46(@300wpm)
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I discreetly glance at the price tag and start shaking my head. There’s no way I’m letting Bruno buy us a mattress that costs more than my first car.

My stubborn husband ignores my frantic gestures. “We’ll take it. How fast can you deliver it?” If I wasn’t exhausted from attempting to sleep on his horribly uncomfortable mattress, I’d fight this harder.

While the happy salesman arranges to have our new mattress delivered, I turn to my husband. “I can’t believe you paid that much for a freaking mattress.”

“I’d pay any amount to make sure you are comfortable.” As my heart melts, I forget all my complaints. Between Bruno’s sweet gestures and my pregnancy hormones, I’m an emotional mess.

“Thank you for the new bed.” I kiss his chin and feel his strong arms wrap around me. My body instinctively relaxes against Bruno’s hard frame.

“You can thank me later when we get home.” My husband wiggles his eyebrows, causing my insides to turn to mush. “I plan to spend the entire night allowing you to thank me properly.” My mind suddenly fills with several indecent ideas, causing my blood to heat.

“Okay.” I should be ashamed of myself for giving in so easily, but I just don’t have the ability to resist my sweet mob boss or his smoking hot body.

Bruno takes the next day off to be home when the mattress is delivered. While he deals with the delivery men, I read through the fifty-page brochure wondering if we bought a mattress or a spaceship.

“Siren.” My husband sticks his head in the door and smiles at me. “The delivery guy wants to show us how to use the bed.”

Thank goodness. I was worried we’d never figure out the space-aged contraption on our own.

Once the delivery man finishes his explanation of the bed, he has us download the app that controls the mattress. I zone out while he explains how to make changes to Bruno. My ears perk up when my husband asks. “What’s this privacy setting?”

“The bed was designed to adapt to your individual sleep pattern.” I start zoning out again. “So, it constantly takes measurements and feeds them back to the program.” The delivery man’s face turns a bright shade of red as he stumbles over his words. “If you’re going to do something in the bed other than sleeping, you know, like watching television, then you can turn on the privacy setting, and the bed will stop recording.” Huh? It takes a second for my pregnant mind to realize he’s trying to find a delicate way to tell us we have to turn off the monitoring unless we want the bed to record our active sex life.

“Please turn off the monitoring permanently.” My husband smirks. “Or some engineer will get interesting data.” While the delivery man hastily changes the settings, I glance over at Bruno and roll my eyes.

My husband shrugs innocently before leaning over to whisper in my ear. “I wonder how long it will take for us to wear out the air chambers in our new bed?”

“I’m betting at least two or three kids.” I joke, but I’m not far off. By the time I give birth to our third daughter, the bed is sagging horribly. For our seventh anniversary, my husband buys me the platinum edition of the adjustable mattress. We’ll see how long this one lasts.

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