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“Yes, Emelia. You are mine. You can do it, baby. Be a good wife and do what your husband asks of you.”
“Oh God.” Throwing her head back against the window, she starts to slide against the ridged metal of the barrel.
I praise her, “Good girl. There you go, getting it so fucking wet.” The black weapon starts to slicken with her wetness. It catches the dim lighting in my office, and I feel it start to drip down onto my hand. Fuck, I can’t wait to drown myself in her slick heat. Her pussy was made to fit my cock and mine only.
“They’re watching,” I tell her, leaning to the side and spotting some people who have taken notice. She gasps in delight, not having realized until now that I made the glass transparent when I set my clip down. My chest burns, and I start to fill with rage, yet she works herself harder against my weapon. Me acknowledging that people are watching her only makes me angrier and her hungrier.
“Enough.” I pull the gun away and stand.
Emelia cries out for me, nearing her orgasm before I stopped.“Nico, w-why did you stop?” She braces her hands against the window and looks at me. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and my eyes bore into hers when I reach my desk. I hit the button to fog the glass and block not just others from seeing us but us from seeing anyone else. I pace the office, and she just watches the caged animal roam before calling to me again.
“Nico?” She finally gains footing and bends to pull her panties back on, but I stop her abruptly.
“Put those on and I will turn your ass red,” I roar into the room.
Her shoulders stiffen, and she shakes her head.“What happened? I thought we were… connecting.”
I run my hands through my hair, then down over my face, and that’s when her scent fills my lungs again. It still lingers on my fingers, and it calls to the male in me. The animal. The crazed lover who wants to destroy her for anyone else.
“I can’t share you. I want to walk down there, lock the doors, and burn the fucking place to ashes with everyone inside who just got to see that.” I stalk to her, and she stays pressed to the glass, worry in her eyes. “But that’s not before I personally remove every single man’s eyes who watched you take pleasure.”
She gulps and nods, her eyes slowly softening.“I don’t want others to have me. I don’t want anyone to touch me like you do,” Emelia whispers, and I place both hands on the glass beside her head and drop my forehead to hers.
What the hell has she done to me?
“You make me insane,” I tell her, closing my eyes. Suddenly, the most delicate, softest hands cradle my face, and I groan.
“You make me furious,” she replies.
“And what are we going to do about that?” I ask her, so fucking lost in what I’m feeling and equally as pissed that I’m letting walls down and showing some semblance of vulnerability to the woman I have fought so hard to remain untouchable to.
But I just. Fucking. Can’t.
I want her to take whatever good that is left in me and claim it. Secretly keep it as her own and nurture it when I come home to her every night. I want a fucking wife. I want a friend. I want her to take the roughness from my days and toss it out nightly so I can breathe again. It's then that I realize I haven’t really released a full breath since losing my parents. No, not until Emelia, and this is just the beginning.
“You can start by letting me in there. We just have to try. You don’t have to be a mafia boss when it's us, Nico. We can just be us. That’s what a wife and husband do.” She leans in and kisses me, wrapping her hands at the nape of my neck.
I try to mentally resist it one more time, my face twisted in pain. But when that sweet tongue of hers touches mine, I am rendered defenseless. My hands leave the glass and tangle in her hair, gaining my ability to deepen the kiss. We fight each other, kissing more and more roughly.
I move us toward the couch in my office, but I don’t break contact. Bending, I wrap my arms around her waist and keep our lips sealed. The second we get to the couch, I reluctantly have to pull away as I step back and unbuckle my belt, and Emelia’s greedy hands make work of undoing my pants and pulling the zipper down. Once that’s done, her hand reaches into my briefs, and she wraps her warm palm around my hard cock, somehow making it stiffen more.
“Let me taste you,” she whispers against my neck.
“Just for a minute. I want to be inside you, Emelia. I need it.”
She nods eagerly and drops to her knees fast. Pulling me out, she immediately wraps her plump lips around my cock, staining it with what's left of the red lipstick she wore.
“Fuck, you are so damn good at sucking cock, baby.” I watch her, moving her hair to the side so I can see my girth stretch her mouth so fucking wide. Her eyes water as she looks up at me when I start to fuck her mouth, and we don’t break eye contact while I do it. Me still in a suit and my queen on her knees for her king. The only time she will ever bow before anyone is to me. On her knees before I repay the favor.
“I won’t come until it’s your cunt, pretty baby,” I warn her as she tries to suck my fucking soul out of my body. I see what she wants, but I want it deeper. There isn’t a chance in hell I'm wasting a drop of me for anything but her warm pussy.
“Mmm,” she whines in disappointment, and I laugh, tugging at her hair a bit. But this has her moaning instead, and I tug it again, this time hard, and she groans louder against my cock.
My pretty wife wants it rough.
Anything for the queen of the Seattle mafia.
Yanking her hair harder, my cock pops out of her mouth, and she screams in pleasure.“Oh God!”
