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Dr. Sterling tread back and forth impatiently as he waited for them to comply with his demands, his gaze lingering on the plush velvet duvet covering their bed. He asked them to lie down, yet they dared not listen to their *Husband*. Must they always test his patience like this? It was nearly flayed thin after almost no intimacy beyond the necessity of consummating their marriage. Though they were wed, they had scarcely let him near enough to fulfill his marital rights on a routine basis.
Gritting his teeth in frustration, he scowled down his nose at them before trying to put on his mask of composure again, pausing his pacing. It was their duty to provide him with an heir, and they had resisted at every turn. Did they not understand the necessity? That it was their purpose? The Sterling name would not carry on without a son, and the comments from everyone, starting from his family and ending with his colleagues, were agitating, to say the least. It was their fault, avoiding their marital bed and *him* as if some disease plagued him.
His manhood strained against the front of his trousers, his sack heavy and swollen with seed ready to take root in their fertile womb. He was going to put an end to the peanut gallery *tonight*. "You will give me a son, and you owe it to me as my spouse. No more brushing me off. I expect you to lay with me every night until you swell with child," he growled, quickly unzipping his pants to reveal his throbbing length. "You *will* lie on the bed. *Now*." Inhaling deeply, he prepared himself, knowing he wasn't above force to ensure his spouse's compliance.
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