“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“You. The way you handled that.” She turns to me, and there’s something in her eyes I haven’t seen before. Heat. Intensity. “The way Matteo and his brother looked at you. Like you were the most dangerous person in the room.”
“I probably was.”
“I know.” Her hand slides up my thigh. “And it was incredibly attractive.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re turned on by me threatening people?”
“I’m turned on by you commanding respect. By watching you handle dangerous men like it’s nothing.” She leans closer. “By seeing everyone in that room understand exactly who you are.”
When we get to the penthouse, we barely make it to the bedroom.
She’s on me the moment the door closes, pulling at my tie, my jacket, desperate in a way that’s new and intoxicating.
“I want you,” she breathes against my mouth. “Now.”
We manage to make it to our bedroom, and the door slams shut. Savannah is pressed against me, fingers ripping my tie loose, nails clawing at my shirt. The city lights pour through the windows, silver stripes across her midnight gown, and thesoft curve of her belly—sixteen weeks, just enough to show, just enough to drive me insane.
“Watching you own that room,” she pants against my mouth, “threatening those men like it was nothing…fuck, Ledger, I’m soaked.”
I grab her throat, gentle but firm, and back her against the wall. “You liked seeing your husband be the monster, princess?”
She nods, pupils blown. “I want the monster to ruin me.”
I spin her, yank the zipper down her spine. The gown pools at her feet. Black lace bra, matching thong, and that perfect little bump glowing under the moonlight. I palm it possessively. “This belly is mine. This body is mine. And tonight I’m reminding you exactly who you belong to.”
I shove her to her knees. She hits the rug with a soft thud, already reaching for my belt. I fist her hair, tilt her face up. “Open.”
She obeys instantly, pink tongue out, eyes locked on mine. I free my cock, and feed it to her slowly. One thick inch at a time until she gags, tears springing, mascara streaking. I hold her there, buried to the root, feeling her throat flutter.
“That’s it, baby. Choke on your husband’s cock. Show me how much you love being my dirty little wife.”
She moans around me, the vibration shooting straight to my balls. I pull back, let her gasp, then fuck her mouth in short, ruthless thrusts. Spit drips down her chin, onto her tits, soaking the lace. I reach down, rip the bra open, and pinch a nipple hard enough to make her cry out around my shaft.
“Good girl. Now taste how wet you are for me.”
I haul her up, spin her again, and bend her over the foot of the bed. Her thong is drenched. I tear it off, spread her open, and sink three fingers deep. She screams into the sheets, back arching, bump pressing into the mattress. I pump hard, curling, thumb grinding her clit until she’s shaking.
“Look at this greedy cunt,” I growl, adding a fourth finger, stretching her wide. “Pregnancy making you extra sloppy for me, princess?”
“Yes—fuck—Ledger, please?—”
I pull my fingers free, glistening with her slick, and shove them into her mouth. She sucks greedily, tongue swirling, moaning like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. “That’s you, baby. That’s how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”
I line up and slam home in one brutal thrust. Her walls clamp down, hot and velvet, milking me. I grip her hips, pound into her, the bedframe slamming the wall with every stroke. Her bump sways gently, and the sight nearly ends me.
“Tell me who owns this pussy.”
“You do—God, you do?—”
“Louder.”
“You own me, Ledger! Fuck your pregnant wife—ruin me!”
