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His big hands roam my body while I enjoy the hardness of his erection between the cheeks of my ass. If I wasn’t bound by my dress, I would straddle him, sink onto his glorious cock, and ride him all the way home to Manhattan. Instead, I gently rock against him, knowing the friction drives him wild. I feel it in his kiss. In the way his fingers grip my arms. In the growl he unleashes.
“Bella…” His voice is rough. “You’ll make me come.”
“And the problem with that is…?”
He rasps, “I want to come inside you when I do.”
I reach between us and massage the thick outline of his cock.
“I mean it,” he growls. “Unless you want me to rip open your dress and fuck you senseless right now, you need to stop.”
I don’t want my dress ruined, so I stop torturing him and settle for kissing him instead.
Soft, gentle kisses. The kind you do when you feel something so deeply for someone.
I frown and break it off, unnerved by the thought.
But eye to eye, something passes between us in the confined space, something that unnerves us both in the silence. If I were to slide out of my dress and sink onto him, it wouldn’t be fucking. It would be making love.
“Champagne?” he offers, reaching for the bottle in the door caddy.
“Yes, please.” I move to climb off him, but his strong arm holds me in place.
“You’re not going anywhere, Mrs. De Kysa.”
I remain on his lap as he opens the bottle of Dom Perignon.
He doesn’t bother with glasses. Instead, he raises the bottle to my lips and gently tips the delicious champagne into my mouth.
When I slide my lips from the tip of the bottle, he pulls my mouth to his and kisses the champagne from my lips.
By the time we reach Manhattan, the bottle is half gone, and I’m feeling light-headed and excited. Anticipation fizzes through me as we pull up to the apartment block, knowing what’s going to happen once we get inside.
Nico slides me off him so he can open the door and climb out. We’re in the private alleyway at the back of the building, only accessible by a key card, to avoid the paparazzi waiting out the front.
Clutching the bottle in one hand and steadying myself against the door with the other, I follow my husband out of the limo and through the back entrance.
“Home sweet home,” he says, punching the elevator button.
Once inside, he kisses me up against the wall, groaning when it goes deeper.
“Put down the champagne bottle, Bella,” he says, caging me in his arms.
“Why?”
“So I can carry you over the threshold.”
With a head full of bubbles, I put down the bottle and then throw my arms around his neck. Our lips crash together as the elevator doors open.
Kissing me fiercely, he accidentally stands on my dress, and we tumble over the threshold and into the penthouse.
“You’re supposed to carry me over the threshold, not throw me.” I laugh, splayed across the marble floor in a twenty-five-thousand-dollar Magda Bianchon.
He crawls over me, and all I can do is gaze up at the smoldering heat on his face as he stares down at me.
“Did you wear the La Perla?” he drawls, his gaze raking over my breasts which are barely covered by my dress.
“Have you seen this dress? There isn’t a lot of room for underwear.” I give him a wicked smile and whisper, “I’m practically naked underneath.”
Lust flares in his dark eyes. “Naked, huh?”
“Apart from a teeny tiny thong, yeah.” I give him a little shrug. “It was my something blue.”
He reaches between us and gathers the hem of my dress. I gasp when his fingers brush across the satiny front of my thong and whisper across my clit. Hooking his finger, he tugs on the soft panties, rolling onto his side so he can slide them down my leg.
He holds up the icy-blue thong. “It is indeed teeny tiny.”
I chuckle, but it fades as I lift an eyebrow and say, “Now I am naked underneath this dress. Any idea what you might like to do about that?”
Nico discards the thong and unbuckles his belt. Unzipping his dress pants, he crawls over me. “I’m going to fuck you for the first time as my wife.”
“Right here on the floor?”
“Do you have a problem with that?” he growls, lowering himself between my legs.
I raise an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
Reaching between us, he springs himself free. With one smooth push, he slides his beautiful thick cock into me, and my back arches with pleasure.
“Admit it, you’ve wanted this since you saw me waiting for you at the end of the aisle,” he rasps, his eyes hooded.
“Murder was out of the question, so I figured this was the next best thing.” He thrusts in deeper, making me cry out. I dig my nails into his arm. “You savage.”
