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“Then you are.” Sensing her withdrawal, I say quickly, “It’s highly unlikely that you’ll become pregnant so quickly.”
She raises a brow. “Oh yes?”
“It takes time for your hormones to stabilize when you go off the pill. I did some reading.”
“Ah-ha. So you’re an expert now.”
“Only in this,” I say, sliding my hand down the front of her pajama bottoms.
She’s not wearing panties. I skim my fingers over the triangle of hair she keeps trimmed and trace her slit. She gasps. She’s wet already. Gathering her slickness, I sink my finger deep enough to make her go on tiptoes. She’s so fucking tight and hot. I want inside her. Now.
My actions are wild as I tear my hand from her pajama bottoms to unbuckle my belt. Before she can drag in another breath, my cock is free. I twist her around and bend her over the rail. My need is too fierce. I’ll never make it to the bedroom. A week without having her is torture. Two weeks is hell. She grips the rail for purchase when I flick her robe up and rip down her pajama bottoms to expose her ass.
I stroke a hand over the satin skin of her globes before parting her with both hands, aiming loosely, and sinking my cock deep inside her pussy.
The sounds falling from her lips echo in the space. I love those moans, those little gasps of ecstasy. Just to hear more, I fuck her viciously. I slam into her, over and over, remembering at the last minute my promise to pull out.
Gripping the root of my cock hard, I squeeze to hold back. I kick her legs apart and rub the button at the apex of her sex until her lower body clenches and violent breathing racks her chest.
She’s still coming down from her orgasm when I turn her around and push her to her knees. She goes down obediently, parting her lips for me just as release tears through my body. Ribbons of cum coat her lips, chin, and neck. The sight of my seed marking her sparks a primal satisfaction inside me. When she licks my seed off her lips, my soft cock twitches.
I help her to her feet and carry her to the bathroom to clean us in the shower. It wasn’t my intention to spend another night, but I’m in no state to drive home.
In bed, I tug her close, wrap my arms around her, and bury my face in her neck. The next thing I know, it’s morning, and the sunlight that filters through the windows is blinding me. I must’ve slept like the dead because it’s the first time in weeks that I got more than four hours of sleep.
The space next to me is empty. The first feeling that hits me is disappointment. I rub my eyes with the heels of my palms. Music comes from downstairs. The smell of coffee. And laughter.
In a blink, I’m wide awake. I grab my phone from the nightstand. Two notifications show on the locked screen. One is from the guard in charge of watching the new house and the other from Gianni, assumably informing me of the visitor.
I don’t bother to read the messages. I get up and dress in a clean pair of jeans, a cashmere sweater, and my favorite Italian shoes before going downstairs.
My wife and Fabien are deep in discussion in the kitchen, standing close together with their heads bent over a wrapper in Sabella’s hand. At least Sabella is dressed. She exchanged her pajamas for a sweater and yoga pants. She chose fluffy socks over sneakers. Fabien wears his favorite attire—a suit tailored to the latest French fashion. You’d swear he was on a date, trying to impress his companion.
“Good morning,” I say with enough hostility to make Fabien jump.
“Jesus,” he says, placing a hand over his heart. “You scared me.”
I eye the stack of waffles on the table. “That’ll happen when you sneak around.”
Sabella slaps my arm. “Fabien brought waffles. We’re reading the heating instructions.”
I grab a waffle and drop it in the toaster. “Simple.”
Sabella narrows her eyes at me. Cute. “They’re gourmet waffles. You’re supposed to cover them and heat them at a low temperature in the oven.”
“Duh,” Fabien says, at which both burst out laughing like fucking teenagers.
I’m jealous enough of their fun to want to spoil it. Like a boy with a toy, I want to keep her all to myself.
I sit down, grab Sabella around the waist, and pull her onto my lap.
She utters a squeal.
Locking my arms around her waist, I pin Fabien with a stare. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“I was in the area,” he says, opening a punnet of strawberries and popping one into his mouth.
“Convenient,” I mutter.
