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“I need to come.”
“What is the magic word?” I keep bringing her to the brink of coming before easing off.
“Fuck you.” She growls. On and on we go, and she might kill me this time if her expression is any indication.
“If you don’t let me come right now . . .”
“Say please.” I pepper kisses all over her slit, nibbling on her clit. My chin is drenched from her juices.
“Fuck, please! Pretty please, you fucking asshole.” She arches her hips, desperate for more friction.
Biting her clit, I thrust two fingers inside her. She likes a bit of pain with her pleasure and detonates under me. I watch, fascinated, as she makes a wet mess on the sheets, her body shaking with her potent release.
By now, my cock is steel.
She wets her lips, and I grip my cock, slamming inside her. Our moans and groans explode around us in an ode of satisfaction. Her legs and arms come around me as we move in sync. Skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat, we chase the promised high. I kiss her temple, holding her. My heart is fucking full. Feeling her lithe body under me is incomparable––how her body welcomes me, how her pussy stretches for me. Being inside this woman is madness and euphoria, heaven and hell—a sinner’s paradise.
“I’m so full . . . so good . . .”
“Yes, you’re full of my cock, full of me. You can’t escape.”
She takes my face in her hands, her eyes liquid emeralds. Gazes locked, I fuck her until she shatters again, and by the time I come in her, she’s panting and trembling. I wrap my arms around her, rolling us to the side, kissing her neck where her pulse flickers. She clutches my hand, holding on to me. I lie beside her and caress the valley of her hip.
“Ask me to stay.”
“No.”
The moment of intimacy disappears. Everything that transpired between us in bed, vanishing.
An unpleasant feeling stretches between my ribs, but I get out of bed and pull my boxer shorts on. I leave the room, shutting the door behind me. Taking my frustration, my desperation, with me, while holding on to the flimsy hope that one day, she’ll see me, accept me, us, our life.
I step inside the room she has spent most of her time in. I pick up a necklace and a pair of earrings. Out of the corner of my eye, a bracelet catches my attention. The bracelet consists of wires threaded over a leather band. It calls to me like I am aware of my heart beating. She made this for me or with me in her thoughts, and a grin parts my lips. I wrap it around my wrist. She’s going to be pissed. The more reason to wear it because I live for her reactions.
As I look around, I am hit by the desire to gift her something.This woman tried to kill you a few days ago.Fuck that, she also lets me fuck her how I want to. I think I am the winner here. She’s my woman, and I’ll spoil her rotten.
I call Lauren, who is more than just an assistant to the three of us, because she knows who we really are, and our go-to when we need something special done as well.
“This will cost you more than usual,” Lauren says.
“I know you are fucking high right now at the possibility of work.”
“What do you need?”
“A room fit for a jewelry-making studio.”
“I’ll be over tomorrow.”
“I want it done in a few hours.”
I hang up and walk down the hallway to the guest room where I sleep for the night.
***
I blink awake, and Chiara is propped up on her elbow, playing with my knife. That gets me up. And my cock too. Deranged idiot. This woman is vicious. And I have zero self-preservation instincts when it comes to her.
“It was so tempting.” She points the tip of the knife at my wrist. “You thief.”
“We’re married. What is mine is yours and vice versa.” I turn my hand up and down between us, admiring my leather bracelet. “It’s a great piece. You’re talented.”
