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“A dance, with my beautiful new wife?” He gives me a look that’s full of desire, full of affection, even—the latter more than I’ve ever seen from him before. I know it’s a show, that it’s for anyone who might be looking, anyone else who might want me, but it’s hard not to believe it. He plays this part so well.
All I can think about, as he leads me out onto the dance floor, is what we might do together later. His hand on the small of my back feels as if it sears through the fabric, my heart racing the way it did the first night we met, when I saw him and felt something that I never had before. We sway to the music, the dancing nothing like what we did together that night in the club in Ibiza, but being so close to him has me every bit as aroused. And if the way he’s looking at me is any indication, he feels the same.
“Perhaps you weren’t such a bad choice,” David says lightly into my ear as he pulls me close, my body flush with his as we move slowly across the floor. His voice is almost teasing, his cheek pressed to mine, and I want to believe it. I want to lean into the sudden tenderness, absorb it into myself, to feel that it’sreal. That perhaps he’s finally coming around. “No one else here seems to think that you were.”
“And it matters to you?” It’s a foolish question—of course it does—but I know I’m supposed to ask. I tilt my head back slightly, looking up into his dark gaze, feeling my chest tighten all over again at the way he’s looking at me. “You’re jealous of them. The other men looking at me.” I shouldn’t like the idea of that as much as I do, I know that—but I can’t help it. And I think he hears that in my voice, because his mouth twitches in a smile as he spins me, bringing me back into his embrace.
“I want them to know you’re mine.” His hand tightens on the small of my back, and I feel the swell of his cock pressing against me where our hips are touching, half-hard, a promise of what he’ll give me later. “Allof you.Mybride. My wife.”
I know he can feel the way I shiver against him. I never knew what a heady combination of fear and desire could be, but I discover it then, pressed against him on the dance floor as the sweet music of the stringed instruments wraps around us. I almost wish I could freeze the moment, stay right here in the in-between of adoration and desire, where both of us have forgotten that we each hate the other for a moment. I want what comes later—but I’m also afraid of what will come after that, when we remember.
David’s desire is almost palpable when we leave the gala, his fingers tightly laced with mine as he leads me out to the waiting car. The moment we’re inside, he sits next to me, instead of across from me as he has been, and before I can even take a breath, his hand is in my hair, and his lips are on mine, leaning me backward on the seat as I gasp.
He’s relentless. His other hand combs through my hair, too, wrapping it around his fingers as he lays me back on the cool leather, his knee nudging my legs apart. He’s rock-hard, pressing firmly against me through the tight fabric of his trousers, and I can’t breathe as he kisses me, his mouth tasting like wine from dinner as his tongue slides against mine. His hips rock against mine, firm and insistent, and for a moment, I think he’s going to pull my panties aside and fuck me right here in the back of the car.
I also know that I’d let him, without a complaint, if that’s what he wanted.
But he doesn’t. His mouth slants over mine, warm and softer than it has been since Ibiza, the kiss full of tenderness along with passion. I forgot that he could kiss me like this, forgot what it felt like already, lost in our constant battle—and I find myself arching upwards against him, my leg twining with his, my breath coming quick and hot against his lips as he kisses me recklessly.
It all melts away. The moment in my home when I discovered who he really was, our brokered marriage, our awkward wedding, every fight we’ve had since, every shouted word. The discovery in the attic, the rough sex, all the moments when I’ve known that he resents me and that I hate him—it all disappears. It’s gone, and all I can think of is how his mouth feels on mine, his body taut and straining with arousal, the way my heart twists with desire when he shrugs off his jacket and lets it fall to the floor of the car, his hands cupping my face as he kisses me all over again.
I gasp when his lips drift to my throat, my collarbone, tracing along the line of the sapphire necklace down to the swell of my breasts. His hands mold them through the silk, slide down my waist, and then suddenly, his weight lifts off of me as he turns me on the leather seat, pushing the skirt of my dress up and out of the way as he spreads my legs wide.
“There’s no need for these,” he murmurs, hooking his fingers in the edge of my panties as he slides down to the floor, kneeling between my legs. I don’t realize at first that he’s taking them off, I’m so shocked by the scene in front of me. David, kneeling in front of me, looking up at me with such abject lust in his eyes that it’s startling, tugging me to the edge of the seat as he shoves my panties into his trouser pocket so he can spread me wider still for him. “I want to make you come,bellisima,” he breathes. “As many times as you can come on my tongue, until you’re all that I taste.”
He presses his mouth between my thighs, his hands holding them apart, and my world dissolves under the heat of his tongue. I feel his lips against my clit, his tongue sliding down to circle my entrance, and then he pushes his tongue inside of me, the soft heat of it making me cry out before I remember that the driver can hear us. I bite my lip, intent on being quiet—and then David stiffens his tongue, curling it inside of me as he thrusts, and I forget to care.
Even in Ibiza, he never ate me out like this. He devours me, fucking me with his tongue until I’m trembling, the pleasure plateauing in a way that makes me want to beg for him to push me over the edge. I think that hewillmake me beg—that of course he will, it’s what he enjoys—but he doesn’t. He thrusts his tongue once more inside of me, as if he can’t get enough. Then I let out a gasping moan of pleasure as his lips fasten around my clit, sucking hard as his tongue flutters over the stiff, twitching flesh.
The pleasure is beyond anything I’ve ever felt. My hand slides into his hair, gripping, nails digging into his scalp, but he doesn’t stop. The feeling of him sucking my clit, tongue fluttering without stopping, sends me over the edge in an instant, my thighs tightening under his grip as I cry out his name in a rush of pleasure. I can feel the flood of my arousal as I come, soaking his face, but he doesn’t stop. He presses his mouth more tightly against me, his tongue still finding every spot that makes the world spin and my vision blur, and then I feel him push two fingers into me, curling them the way he did with his tongue.
I come again almost instantly. It’s almost too much, the unrelenting pressure and heat, the feeling as he adds a third finger, fucking me relentlessly with them as his tongue slides over my clit. There’s no hesitation, not even a breath, as he hurtles me into wave after wave of pleasure, as if the orgasms don’t really end, just ebb and flow until I’ve nearly collapsed on the seat, panting.
“I can’t—” I whimper as he pulls back for just a moment, his cheeks flushed and lips swollen, face damp with my arousal. He looks overcome with lust, his fingers still buried inside of me, moving in a way that makes me whimper despite what I just said.
“You can,” he murmurs, his voice so thick with desire that it makes me shudder. “Because I want you to, Amalie.”
I realize, dimly, that the car has stopped. My cheeks flush hot as the rest of it comes to me, just as David curls his fingers inside of me again and lowers his mouth to my swollen, throbbing pussy—the realization that the driver is waiting on us to be finished, listening as David makes me come again and again.
Even in this moment, it’s a show of power. How everyone, even me, waits on his pleasure—even when that pleasure is being given by him instead of received.
But even that realization isn’t enough to make me ask him to stop. Not when it feels so good.
He makes me come once more, my back arching, nails digging into the leather of the seat and his scalp as I moan helplessly, my entire body shuddering with the onslaught of sensation. My clit feels swollen, too sensitive, the pleasure is almost painful by the time David draws back again, taking my hand and pulling me up off of the seat. For a moment, I wonder again if he’s going to fuck me here, in the car, while he makes the driver wait, but then I see him rap sharply on the screen, separating us from the front of the car.
A moment later, the door opens. I can’t quite meet the driver’s eyes as David helps me out, feeling my cheeks flush hot as I think of what he must have heard—of what I must look like, my dress wrinkled and my hair tangled around my face. I can feel eyes on me as David and I walk through the hotel lobby, and a part of me is as thrilled by it as I am embarrassed. Everyone who sees me knows what the man holding my hand is going to do to me—can imagine what he might have already done. I feel desired, valued,wanted, and that feeling only intensifies when David pushes me up against the elevator wall, jamming his key card into the slot as he kisses me hungrily again.
“I want to fuck you right here.” He spins me around, his hand in my hair, fingers pressed to the back of my neck as he lifts my skirt. “I need my cock in you,now.”
I gasp as he shoves my skirt to one side, dragging his zipper down. I feel the heat of his thick, hard cock against my inner thigh as he pulls my panties to one side, the swollen tip pushing between my folds, and I cry out as he thrusts up into me hard, holding himself there. His hips press against the soft curve of my ass, burying himself into me as deeply as he can, his mouth grazing over my throat and making me moan as he rocks against me. “Fuck,” he breathes, and I clench around him, rippling along the length of his shaft and making him groan aloud. “I’m going to keep you here, just like this, until we get to the top floor.”
The thought of that, of his cock buried inside of me as the elevator ascends, makes me moan all over again. “What if someone walks in?” I breathe, and David chuckles darkly, thrusting deeper as his teeth graze my throat.
“Then they can watch.”
His hands settle on me, one on the back of my neck, twisted in my hair, the other on my hip. He thrusts slowly, shallowly, his lips pressed to my shoulder. “That’s a good girl,” he groans, rolling his hips against me. “Keep my cock nice and warm. I’ll stay so fucking hard for you, just like this.Fuck—”
I tighten around him again, that pleasurable ache building, the feeling of him inside of me more of a tease right now than anything else. He thrusts again, each slow movement building that pleasure, until the elevator reaches the top floor and stops. He holds me there for just a moment, until I think the doors will open with him still inside of me, and then slides out, tucking his hard cock back into his suit trousers with a groan. I catch a glimpse of his erection, swollen and slick with my arousal, and nearly moan with the need to have him in me again.
