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I brush my palms down her chest and stomach and grab the elastic waistband of her skirt. It’s gauzy like a ballet tutu, but gold, the color matching the stars on her shirt. With as much care as my big hands allow, I pull it up and over her head.
“Green, as well.” I smile and pinch the band at the back of her panties. And then, I pull up.
Sienna arches her back, her mouth half-open in a silent moan. With my free hand, I move the lacy strip to tuck it between her folds. Keeping my thumb over the fabric so it won’t slip away, I tug on the waistband once more.
Sienna lowers her head and leans forward. Her quick breaths fan across my face as I loosen the hold on her panties, only to pull on them even harder the next moment.
“So, are we back on speaking terms?” She pants and grabs the two sides of my shirt and yanks, tearing off several buttons. “Or are we still only fucking?”
Letting go of her panties, I wrap my arm around her middle and roll us over so I’m on top. “I haven’t decided, yet.”
I take off my ruined shirt and the rest of my clothes, and Sienna’s gaze locks onto mine while she slips her hand between her legs. There isn’t a sexier sight than my wife, in nothing more than her green panties and gold heels, playing with her pussy.
I bend to grab her panties, which are blocking my view, and pull them down her legs.
“Wider,” I demand and move to the recliner by the bed, absorbed in her delicate fingers as they tease and massage her clit. “Faster, Sienna.”
“You’re just going to watch?”
“Yes.”
She bites her lip and hastens her movements. Her breaths quicken while her eyes seek my own again. She adds her other hand—circling, pinching. My already straining cock hardens to granite, but I don’t make a move to touch it as I watch her.
Have I ever been so enthralled with anything,anyone, in my life? I should know the answer to that, but every bit of rational thought has fled as I focus on my sparkling wife. I should be worried about that, but again . . . mental capacity is nonexistent. It seems that this strange little creature has royally fried every brain cellI had. Every smile, every idiotic pair of shoes and glittery dress, and every fucking time she said my name, have sealed my fate.
Sienna arches her back, her body shaking as she comes. I leave the recliner and climb over her, positioning myself between her legs. She’s still trembling as I move her hands and thrust my cock into her heat. A sound escapes her lips. It rolls over me on a wisp of her breath. A moan. I can hear it, but it’s not enough. I want to hear her scream my name. I want to soak up every resonance my wife makes as I fuck her.
Sliding my palm up, I wrap my fingers around her delicate neck and squeeze it lightly. Not hard enough to harm her, just a slight pressure so I can feel the vibration of her vocal cords.
“Say my name,” I order as I retreat and slam into her again.
“Drago,” she whispers. Most of the sound is lost to me. There are no vibrations for me to feel.
“No whispering.” I rake my other hand in her hair, tilting her head up as I pound into her. She’s wet, but so tight, that each thrust threatens to push me over the edge. “Again.”
The tendons of her neck tighten under my palm as she throws back her head and moans while her pussy spasms around my length.
“Drago.”
Not a whisper this time, and I hear it crystal clear. I crush my mouth to hers, claiming that sound. Claiming her, with my mouth and my seed as it erupts inside her. She’s mine, and anyone who dares to take her from me, her brother included, will meet a quick and painful death.
Chapter 17
I awake to blissful warmth and, for a moment, wonder if extra blankets are covering me. Then, I realize the warmth is seeping from the big body cocooning mine. My eyelids lift, feeling light despite the lack of uninterrupted rest.
He let me stay.
I don’t dare move and risk waking Drago. Maybe he fell asleep and forgot to take me back to my room? I’m not missing this chance and will enjoy being in his arms for as long as possible.
The hold around my waist tightens as Drago pulls me closer to his body.
“You know, I’ve been wondering something from the start,” Drago’s voice drifts from above my head. “Why don’t you dye your hair crazy colors, as well?”
I smile and turn around to face him. It’s not easy, considering that he’s basically keeping me glued to his front. Somehow, I end up with my face plastered to his chest. Untangling one of my legs from his, I throw it over his waist and climb on top of him. I cross my arms over his chest and rest my chin on my hands.
“Brown works best with my wardrobe,” I say, looking into his eyes. “I can’t have pink hair and wear orange. What would people say?”
“If they are wise, they’d keep their mouths shut.”
