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CHAPTERFIFTY-EIGHT
SIMONE
Chase and I stumble into our room in the penthouse, a wild mess of wandering hands, clashing tongues and teeth, and feverish need. I’m sure the suite is amazing, considering Piero Bianchi owns it, but I’m solely focused on my husband—my hipster-dressing, caveman possessive, loving biker.
We went through all the wedding formalities—signing the marriage certificate, photos, and wining and dining with our family present until the sun came up. But the last few hours, we’ve been trying to escape to our room, desperate to connect on the most intimate of levels. We saw a moment to break from the group and ran for it, laughing like kids up to no good all the way to the penthouse.
“I fucking need you,” Chase groans against my throat with his hot mouth, his tongue licking the entire length of my neck. His fingers find the zipper on my dress, and he slides it down in one swift movement. With a little tugging, the material parts down my body, exposing my naked breasts and bare bottom.
Clenching my waist and yanking me flush to his body, Chase growls, “You were commando this entire time? All those sleazy men in the casino were eye-fucking my woman while she was sporting no panties under her dress?!”
His hand cracks against my bottom, making me jump. My insides clench eagerly as I grow damp between my thighs, ready for whatever he plans to give me.
“Naughty wife.”
A laugh bubbles in my throat as I shove his cut off his shoulders. “You love me this way.”
“I love you every way,” he croons before grabbing his shirt behind his neck and yanking it over his head. “Bratty, obstinate, demanding, loving—all of it. Love it when you give yourself over to me. On your back or on your knees.”
My fingers fumble with his belt buckle, desperate to take his hard length out of his pants.
“Love the way you scream your release when I dip my tongue into your creamy center. Love the taste of your juices in my mouth as I suck you out.”
I can’t get him naked fast enough. His zipper hisses around the room with how hard I yank it down.
Chase shoves his jeans down his legs, stepping out of them. He prowls into my space, lifting me into his arms like I weigh nothing. I wrap my arms and legs around him, his rigid dick trapped between us, coating us both with his need.
Sucking on my bottom lip, he walks us to the bedroom window, where our room overlooks the entire city. The sun is shining in the early morning sky, not a cloud in sight.
“I need the whole world to witness this. Everyone needs to see you’re all mine.”
He presses my back against the cool glass of the window. I gasp, arching my back, pushing my chest against his. The rough friction of his coarse chest hair simulates my sensitive nipples, making them ache with need. He pushes my body firmly against the window with his, anchoring us to the spot.
“I love the way your cunt clutches my cock when I first enter you,” he says, readjusting our angle before driving himself inside of me.
I scream with pleasure, my body humming with delight. “Fuck, yes, more.”
He takes both my wrists in his hands, pinning them above my head against the glass before driving into me again.
My mouth falls open in a silent moan, the back of my head resting against the window as he plows into me over and over…
“More than anything,” he grunts between thrusts, “I love you loving me back.”
Drunk on his cock, I open my eyes with a smile. “You mean you love how I love you more.”
He pauses his hips, his eyes narrowed and face pinched. “Take. It. Back.”
“Never,” I tease, giggling at his peeved face.
“Take it back, Simone, or I take away my dick,” he warns.
I rotate my hips on his stiff cock, rubbing my clit against his pelvis. “No, you won’t.”
He stiffens, feeling how I’m stimulating both of us. “Simone…” he warns again weakly, his voice betraying him. He won’t pull away when I have him revved up and ready to blow.
My hips pick up the pace, my rotations more forceful. “See, I love you more, and you know it.”
“Fucking brat,” he groans, cocking his hips before slamming into me. “I’ll prove I love you more.”
