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“Nothing, Amore. I need to fill you up.” I flip her over on her stomach. “Pop that ass up,” I growl, giving it a slap. My fingers slide over her slit and feel how wet her cunt is. “So fucking soaked. You like taking my dick down your bratty mouth.”
She turns her head, staring at me with pride and says, “Yes.”
“Fuck, you’re too fucking sexy, Wife. This is only mine.” I slap her ass. “You’re only mine.” I grab my shaft and smack her ass and watch her shiver. The way her cheeks jiggle, I’m not going to last, and I need her to come first. I press one finger in her hot hole and my sweet wife cries out, mewling and arching her back. Adding a second to her sopping wet cunt, I pump fast into her, hearing the juices working in and out, making me fucking thirsty. I drop down and growl, “Mine.” My tongue plunges into her tight slit, licking her feminine need.
“Fuck, Gio.” She reaches between her legs and rubs my scruffy chin as she bends and moans. I swear I’m about to nut when she orgasms hard, thighs shaking. I back off and then line up my cock with her entrance, sliding inside as she shakes off that last bit. “You’re so deep.”
“Yes, and you take it so well. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a little cock slut.”
“Maybe I’m just your cock slut.”
“You definitely are mine.” I grab her face and kiss it roughly. “No one will ever take you away from me. It’s time to breed that pussy and make sure they can’t.” Her pussy flutters at the idea of getting knocked up, and I can’t wait to add to the next generation.
Our bodies are covered in sweat, and the room smells like sex as I ram the fuck out of my wife, her body rocking forward with every thrust of my hips. “Hold on to the headboard, Amore.”
When she does, I lean over and cup her large tits, pinching those exquisite nipples that I want in my mouth again. Later, but for now I’m about to come hard and deep inside her. I reach down and find her sweet little slit and strum her clit, wanting her to come again. Hitting that magical button, she squirms and gives me another ear-blasting release as I fill her womb.
Her body sags, and I tug us both down onto the bed and kiss her several times before getting up. She turns to me, and I say, “Rest.”
I shower and see that she’s sleeping. My phone goes off like I figured it would. Things are too crazy to get much of a break. I stare at my lovely wife and whisper, “Soon.”
I leave my cupcake in bed and meet Matteo in his office.
I stare at the fucker in front of me, and I want to put a bullet in both him and my brother-in-law. “What the fuck is he doing here without a gag in his mouth?”
“I didn’t realize you were a kinky fucker, but you’re not my type, Barone,” Morozov says with a thick accent. I’m about to jump him when my father barks out my full name. “Damn, it still works with me too.”
“He’s not our enemy, Gio,” Matteo says.
“Speak for yourself.” I hate this man more than any of them know.
“I speak for the family, and you should fucking remember that.”
“I have information on the Morenos, and I’m willing to help you out.”
“Why?”
“Because I hate those pieces of shit. They owe me a great deal of money, and I didn’t find a bride worth trading a hundred thousand for.” I snarl. The fucker says my wife wasn’t worth that much. “Calm down, Barone. Your wife or any woman wouldn’t be worth that much. I don’t pay for sex, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to force some scared girl into marrying me. What kind of sick fuck does that?” He chuckles, smirking at me.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Don’t be so uptight, Barone. I’m busting your chops. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.” He shakes Matteo’s hand, then Dario’s, next is my father’s, but I refuse to shake my romantic rival’s hand.
“We’ll walk you out,” Dario says, leading the Russian prick out of the office. I’m behind them all because I shouldn’t stand too close to the bastard or I’ll stab the fuck.
Right then, I see my wife in a pretty dress, looking too damn good. “Oh my God, you work for them,” my cupcake says.
“It’s good to see you again, Patricia.” Morozov’s voice is thicker when he says her name.
She gasps, and she presses her hand to her chest. “You’re Russian,” she utters.
“Da, princess, but I didn’t want you to run off when we met.” They know each other?
“It’s time you left, Morozov,” I snarl, moving closer, but the men block my way, afraid I’m going to attack him.
“Morozov,” she gasps again, tilting her head up at him, and I’m growing more jealous, but then I watch as she takes a step back.
He steps closer to my wife, giving her a charming smile. “Relax, Mrs. Barone. As I told you before, I had no interest in marrying you. I took you safely where you asked—nothing more. I would have helped you go where you needed if you had trusted me. If you need any assistance, you can always give me a call.” He hands her a card.
