Page 39 of Was I Ever Real

My movements are slow, trying to deter any unwanted attention from what I plan on doing to her. Right here, right now. My hand smooths up her thigh, my chest rumbling with a near-silent chuckle. “You can try,” I whisper, my fingers now sliding under her dress, “but I’ll make your pussy weep in front of all these people before you even have the chance.”

Ever so slowly, I roll the chair as close I can get to the large desk in front of us, keeping most of us hidden. My hand hasn’t stopped moving up her thigh, her long nails digging into my forearm as I do so. When my fingers find her hip, my eyebrows rise in surprise when all I find is silky smooth skin.

I look up into her glimmering eyes and she quirks a mischievous smile.

“Two can play this game,” she whispers back.

Her hand lands on my crotch at the same time as my own finds out how fucking wet she is. No panties in sight.

My lips graze her neck before I let out a small hum near her ear. “My filthy little wife can’t help but to play dirty, can she?”

I watch her lick her lips, pulling the bottom one in between her teeth. She’s staring straight ahead like she’s busy listening into the meeting happening around us. But I know where her attention is when I feel the zipper of my own slacks being pulled down. And in a maneuver that leaves me questioning if she has an actual degree in stealth fucking, she pulls my cock out and slides up my lap, her dress billowing around us, effectively hiding the fact she just slid my dick inside her.

Shit.

Her small smirk tells me this might have been her checkmate move this whole time. My cock throbs, her pussy so fucking tight and warm. When I feel the slight sheen of sweat appearing on my forehead, I suddenly consider I may have miscalculated some of my own moves. It’s taking every muscle in me not to slam even deeper inside of her or fuck Lenix on the desk in front of everyone—including my father’s portrait glaring disapprovingly from above the fireplace.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Maxwell?” she says, the innocent tone making my balls tighten while she leans back into my chest, wrapping one arm around my shoulders like she’s just settling into my embrace and not currently choking me with herperfectfuckingcunt.

And of course, this is exactly the moment where the conversation stops and Byzantine looks over, waiting for a reply as if I’ve heard even one single goddamn word out of his mouth. I grip Lenix’s thigh and shift her on my lap but regret my decision immediately when that only makes her slide up and down my shaft.

It might be the few decades shared between us but he seems to realize almost instantly that I wasn’t paying attention and reiterates the question. I grunt out an answer, scowling at everyone in the room.

The meeting drags on, every fucking second excruciating long, trying to sit still while Lenix periodically squeezes her pussy around my cock like she’s at the gym doing reps. Eventually, I manage to find a sliver of control and lean over to press against her back, my hand snaking around and up under her dress.

I whisper threateningly in the shell of her ear, “You thought you could walk around my men withthisout.” My thumb lands firmly on her clit. “And there would be no consequences?” I feel her body try to contain a small jolt, so I press even harder, circling her tight bud while she clenches even tighter around me. My voice is low and deadly when I speak again. “Let’s see how silent you can be as you come all over my lap, shall we?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hisses through her teeth.

“Watch me.”

I know this is a suicide mission. I’m halfway there myself. What she doesn’t know is the meeting is about to wrap up and as soon as we’re alone again, she’s going to rue the day she thought she could one up me at my own fucking game. I bask in her fear for a little while longer, that I might force her to come like this, my thumb still administering small smooth circles over her clit.

Just as I thought, Byzantine closes the meeting a few minutes later and everyone slowly files out of the study. The majority barely glance my way, most likely because my new wife is sitting on my lap. The room falls unbearably silent when the only person left to leave is Byzantine himself.

He looks over to us and squints in disbelief. And maybe a little disgust.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, and I honestly couldn’t care less.”

He stalks to the door but before he crosses the threshold, Lenix calls out to him.

“Wait!” she squeaks.

He stops and tilts his head back towards her.

“Just — just don’t tell Sunny okay? I need to tell her myself…please?”

He stares down at the floor for a few seconds, looking like he’s debating something but then nods and leaves, closing the door behind him.

As soon as we're alone Lenix tries to stand up but my arm is a steel bar around her waist.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

She huffs loudly trying to wiggle her way off me, and it’s definitely not having the desired effect when I groan and she freezes. “I’m not fucking you, Connor,” she says flatly.

“Darling — you’re currently sitting on my dick.”

My other hand travels back up under her dress and I find her as drenched as ever, her clit swollen and begging to be stroked.

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