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“Good girl,” I say above a whisper, slowly removing the jacket of my ruined tux first, then the shirt. I keep the pants on and stay shirtless. The jacket and shirt bore the brunt of the fight and are mostly caked in blood. “Now on your knees for part two of your punishment.”
Isabella doesn’t move. Not to be defiant, she looks shocked. My voice changed at seeing her naked.
“You demanded I stay faithful. You will now get a taste of that request. Now you’ll see the man I am in bed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Isabella
Kieranteasesme,takingoff his shirt. His warrior tattoo is so damn sexy. Anyone would pay to see him strip. Sounded like Ginna would. The throbbing between my thighs can’t be denied. I can’t hide how I want Kieran. I never expected to feel so desperate and needy. To crave a savage like this so fiercely.
His sharp jaw, chiseled cheekbones, and vivid green eyes just paralyze me at times. No matter how I try to push away the feeling, I’m a moth to his flame. My ears ring from the thundering of my blood and beating heart.
Yet, this is the safest I’ve felt in a long time. I sink to my knees, mostly because I’m not sure I can stand for much longer, I’m so wet and aroused. “What are you going to do to me?”
“You’re my wife. Whatever I want.” Kieran takes his blood-soaked bowtie and ties my hands together behind my back.
Shit, I want to touch him, but the way his eyes rake over me, the naked me, this is almost just as satisfying.
“Are you going to just stick your dick in my mouth?” I say, even though I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk. “Seems like a fair punishment.”
“Don’t tempt me with a promise to like it. You may find yourself beneath me, swallowing me down all night.” Kieran studies my face, searching for my submission or a fight.
Getting neither, he smiles, opening his pants in dramatic fashion. He doesn’t yank them down, though, just teases me by running a finger along my lower lip.
He uses a sex club to fuck women who know how to satisfy him. Hell, they are probably the super made-up gorgeous types with perfect fake boobs, hair extensions, lip plumping injections, and false eyelashes.
Pure fiction and fantasy. But that’s what the club is for.
Still, thinking of those perfect specimens, and now, he has only me. I’m none of those things, and a wave of self-consciousness hits me. Instincts make me pull on the tie to cover myself, even if it’s no use.
“Don’t fight me. You won’t like how I fight back.”
I struggle against the binding on my wrists. “I know I’m not your type.”
He grips my face. “Don’t ever say that. I married you because I craved you. I’m hard as a rock to be inside you. I want you, Isabella. I could have fucked a naked woman dripping for me on our wedding night. I came home to you and madeyoucome.”
I sure did…
His eyes rake over my naked body for what feels like forever. “You’re gorgeous, my bella,” he grinds out. “I’m proudyou’remy wife. And notjustbecause you’re the Italian princess.”
Pride swells inside my chest. I consider returning the sentiment, but next, he’s kissing me again like he’s caught in this moment between us.
His warm, wet tongue glides inside my mouth, capturing me in a fiery kiss.
When he leaves each morning, his shirts look painted on. I hide my gawking at him behind my espresso cups, squeezing my thighs together at how those dress shirts of his fit across his thick biceps.
He stands and slides down his trousers. Tight black briefs with a designer name stands out boldly on the waistband. They sit so perfectly on his hips. There’s not an ounce of fat on this man. Just ridges of abs and that sexy V-shaped muscle disappearing into those briefs.
Good Lord, his thighs are not just thick, but sculpted with cut muscles. An image of him propped up on them, fucking me for hours, shoots even more warmth through me.
Eyeing me, he pushes the briefs down and steps out, kicking them aside like they don’t matter. His body is an inked-up work of art, only eclipsed by a massive cock. Thick and bobbing, with the tip dripping. Despite being sinister and even a little cruel, in the looks department, he’s perfect. Which means he gets whatever he wants from women. The fact that I’m not crying out to be untied is evidence of that. Standing in front of me completely naked, he grips his cock, which he can barely get his hand around.
This is gonna hurt…
After a smirk, he pulls my chin up and his mouth crashes down on my lips with a deep, feral kiss. His tongue batters against mine as his hands roam my body. I can’t help but melt against him. The intimacy of it blows my mind. He moans, deepening the kiss, as his grip feels like a stranglehold. Like we can’t get close enough.
He lines up his hard cock with my lips. “To my count, I’ve given you two orgasms. You owe me one,wife.”
