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“Awful man. Very, very awful.”
“And yet you like it.” He thrusts deep into me, going nice and slow, kissing my neck and chest before lifting my arms above my head. “Every little noise you make only reminds me how bad you need this.”
“I don’t need it, I just like it.”
“No, baby. You need this release.” He goes faster, grinding into me. “Tell me you need it.”
“Gian.”
“Say it, baby.”
“I need it,” I whisper, blinking rapidly, gasping as he fucks me. “I need you.”
We fall into the moment and there’s only moaning, grunting, gasping, whimpers, the slap of our skin as he fills me. I grind into him, desperate, ringing with bliss, and I feel the pleasure build in my core, growing with every thrust, every kiss, every time he licks my nipples with that filthy tongue of his. I dig my fingers into his back and all sense of time disappears as we fuck, and I can’t last anymore. I shatter for him, I break all over his dick, groaning as I do it, and what really kills me, what really makes me shiver with real delight, is how my orgasm makes him come too.
We’re a tangle of sweaty limbs and sheets. I drag them over my body, but he’s not having any of that. “No hiding,” he chides and bites my shoulder. “My fucking wife.”
“Fake wife,” I correct with a smile, eyes closed. “A very happy, very satisfied fake wife.”
“Good enough,” he rumbles, kissing my shoulder now. “Tomorrow, I want you to order the pillows.”
“The pillows?”
“Yes, the fucking pillows. Make this place feel like home. I want you to be comfortable.”
“You’re thinking about pillows after fucking me. Should I be insulted?”
He bites. I shriek and laugh, but he holds on tight. “No. You should be flattered that I care about your damn pillows at all.”
“Okay, okay, pillows. Just don’t start eating me, you freak.”
“Mmmm, eating you.” He sighs and holds me tighter. “Give me, I don’t know, five minutes.”
I wiggle my ass against his cock. “You sure you need five, big man?”
“I’m being conservative.”
I turn around and stare him in the eye. “Do you think you’d get hard if I sucked your cock right now?”
His gaze sharpens with hunger and a thrill runs into my chest. I reach down and—yep, he’s stiffening already.
“Seems possible, but I can’t be sure.”
“Let’s find out then.” I shift down him, smiling as I go.
Chapter 27
Gian
Renzo sits across from me behind his desk. Carlo’s on the couch drinking something brown. Saul’s in his own office getting himself acclimated to the Vegas outfit. “Got to admit, you’ve done well,” Renzo says, sounding a bit grudging.
“Saul’s eager to learn.”
“More like eager to make fucking money,” Carlo says. “But sorry, you two were talking.”
I give him a look before turning back to Renzo. “He’ll get the hang of it.”
“I have all the faith in the world.” Renzo sits back, arms crossed over his chest. “How’s your wife?”
