He might claim to need a wife to curate a family-friendly image and produce an heir, which is fucked up in the extreme, but something tells me he’s way more invested in her than he wants to admit.
If we were closer, I’d ask him. But he barely acknowledges my existence most of the time.
Chiara melts into me, and every fiber of my being lights up as I claim her mouth. A small moan breaks free when I drag her against my throbbing erection.
I’ve been hard pretty much constantly since last night.
Painfully hard.
“Luka,” she groans when I finally release her. “We probably shouldn’t…” Her lips are pink and swollen, and there’s a delicate flush to her cheeks that wasn’t there before. I press my fingers to her throat, and from the way her pulse races, she’s as turned on as I am.
“No, we probably shouldn’t,” I agree, not meaning a word of it. Is Angelo watching this scene play out like the creep he is?
Kane too, probably.
At least there’s zero chance of him cock-blocking me again. I saw him leave two hours ago, and from the conversation I overheard, he has some business to take care of. Something to do with the body that floated in on the tide recently.
I try to stay out of things like that. It’s bad for my image as a carefree, no-shits-given sort of guy. Besides, Angelo doesn’t want or need my help.
“Angelo might throw a hissy fit again.” Chiara chews her lip like the thought of Angelo catching us is concerning, but the gleam in her eye tells me she’s fully on board with my plan.
“He might, but do you care?”
Her hand slides down my chest and lingers on my jeans’ waistband. My body tenses as I wait to see what she does next. This has to be her decision. I refuse to coerce her into something she might later regret.
“What do you think?” she says in a husky voice before unbuttoning my jeans. I’m not wearing boxers, so when she pops more buttons open, my cock springs out.
Her eyes widen before she licks her lips appreciatively. I’m well aware I’m big. Big enough that I can’t rush this or I’ll hurt her. But this isn’t about me, even if my cock is desperate to feel her mouth around it. Or better still, sink into her hot, wet pussy.
But Chiara drops to her knees and envelops my tip in her mouth. Fuck. I was not expecting her to be so forward, but damn, the woman knows what she’s doing.
I groan at the feel of her tongue as it strokes the sensitive underside of my crown. Then she opens wide and takes me so fucking deep I almost come.
Shit, this is bad. No, it’s good.Too fucking good. I haven’t had sex in weeks, so I’m close to blowing my load already, which would be fucking embarrassing.
Reluctantly, I push her back. Her mouth releases me with a lewd wet sound. Pre-cum coats her lips in glossy shine. I reach down to wipe some of it away with a soft groan while she grips my shaft so tight it hurts. In a good way.
Fuck me, she looks good with her lips all swollen and pink. I want to paint her with my cum before fucking her again and again until she can’t walk straight. But first, I want to feel her come all over my face.
Before she can protest, I pick her up and place her on the edge of the table. She glances around the room again, looking for cameras.
“You won’t find them, baby. Kane installed covert cameras.”
“But there are several, right?”
My eyebrow quirks up. “Why?”
“I wantmy husbandto have the full panoramic live-porn experience.”
Her words strike at my heart in a way I don’t like. Is she just using me? She wouldn’t be the first woman to do that. I’m kind of used to women treating me like a disposable sex toy, if I’m honest. It’s been that way since I hit puberty.
“Well he’ll certainly get that,” I quip with a forced smile.
Chiara must sense my shift in mood. She frowns.
“You know what? Angelo doesn’t deserve this. He already owns me. That fucker doesn’t get to see my O face too.” She shoves me back with her bare foot and hops off the counter. To my surprise, she takes my hand and drags me from the kitchen and upstairs.
My dick’s still out, but thankfully we don’t pass a soul.
