Son of a?—
I nearly drop to my knees.Don’t fucking scream.I clamp my teeth together, my jaw tight as I try to concentrate on wrapping up the last few photographs so I can escape.
I’m about to leave the step and repeat area when a man at the barrier shouts, “When can we expect to see the pitter-patter of tiny Rivers feet?”
I forget about the toy vibrating inside my body, just for a second. The feminist urge to burn everything to the ground surges. But I bring it under control, swallowing down the words that sit like acid on my tongue. “Do you ask everybody when they’re planning on starting a family, or just the women?”
He flushes. Good.Choke on that, jerk.
The female journalists surrounding him shoot daggers in his direction. It’s not the first time I’ve been asked that and I doubt it will be the last either. It’s none of their business when we start our family. Vultures.
“My readers want to know.” He tries to defend his question.
I give him a smile that does not reflect in my eyes. “I’m sure your readers would be far more interested in the two milliondollars my gallery has given to domestic violence shelters. Or maybe the half a million put aside to teach children art across low socio-economic backgrounds.”
He shrinks further into himself.
I let him off the hook, shaking my head, and leaving the bright lights behind me.
Jensen taps his phone and the vibrations inside me slow, the walls of my pussy loosening a little.
As soon as I’m close, it disappears into his pocket and his hands land on my hips. He stares at me like his world begins and ends with every breath I take. I get it. It’s the same for me. Jensen has been stitched into my DNA from the first time I met him all those years ago. Back then we were kids. Barely teens, but even then I knew he was mine.
“You look flustered, sweetheart.” His deep, gravelly voice caresses over my skin like a weighted blanket.
I try to glare at him. I really do. “You’re playing a dangerous game. What if I’d dropped to my knees in front of all those press members, moaning and gasping?” I say the last part quietly, even though no one is close enough to hear.
His hand drifts from my hip to cup the side of my neck. Instinctively, I lean into his touch. I always do. “Then I would have to kill everyone who saw and heard you making those sounds that are only for me.”
Warm breath grazes over my skin as he leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. He wants my mouth, I can tell. His eyes keep dropping to my lips.
“You’re insane,” I murmur.
“You knew that before you married me, Mia.”
I did, and I wouldn’t change a fucking thing about him.
His cologne fills my nose, and the steady hum of the vibrating egg inside me is almost comforting. Like he’s stroking my pussywithout touching me. “How wet are you, my beautiful, talented, amazing wife?”
Wet? My thighs are slick under my dress, like he’s already been inside me and left his mark behind.
“I’m soaked,” I whisper, my eyes darting in case anyone has suddenly drifted close by. Behind the polite smiles and composure, there’s raw greed simmering inside me. They’d notice it if they look close enough. Notice the way my hands tremble and my eyes are heavy. The way I keep crossing my legs and shifting on my feet. “I think you enjoy seeing me like this, knowing that I can’t do anything about it.”
There’s that twitch of his lips again. It’s not quite a smile, but it’s the promise of one.
Jensen’s hands graze along my spine, like he’s mapping the shape of me through the silk of my dress.
“I like knowing I can bring you to your knees without touching you.” A slow, unbearable ache takes root between my legs, followed by a primal want for him to shove up my dress, and spear his thick length inside my body. “I like knowing that you’re on the edge of coming and I’m the only one in this room who knows it. I like that your pleasure is in my hands, Mia.” He leans in and my heart flutters. “If it were up to me, I’d keep your beautiful cunt full of me all day. I’d cum in you until your belly bulges with it. Then I’d plug you tight, so not a drop is wasted.”
I swallow, then do it again as his grip bites into my hips. To the people watching, it looks like a sweet moment between husband and wife. They have no idea the filth spilling from his mouth. But I’m not a passive observer and I like playing him at this game.
So I peer up at him through my lashes. “Then take me home and do it. Fill me up, Jensen. Make me your little cum goddess.”
This time, he smiles. Grins really. That cocky lift of his lips does something to me I can’t explain. “You have to stay. You’re the star of the show tonight.”
I shift on my feet, which is a bad idea, because it moves the vibrating egg inside me and I see stars.Fuck.
I grip his biceps, my legs suddenly weak. My head is spinning as everything below my navel clamps through the surging heat.
