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"Two."

"Fuck. Yes. Good girl." I praise, voice strained and dark.

I'm in no rush to end this. Each slap is measured and deliberate, landing in a different spot until her entire ass is hot and stinging and she is sobbing into the cushions, not from pain, but from the unbearable pressure building low in her belly. Between strikes, I drag my fingers through her pussy, coating my palm in her wetness, and the sound of my wet hand on her ass is obscene.

"Seven," she chokes out, her voice muffled.

"That's my Donna," I purr into her ear, nip it, then lean back to look down at my artwork.

I stop. My hands cup her burning cheeks, thumbs pressing into the sore flesh, and she hisses through her teeth. Then I lean down and drag my tongue up the center of her pussy from behind.

She screams into the leather.

"Come," I growl against her cunt, shaking my head back and forth like a dog. "Give it to me."

She shatters.

Hot liquid gushes from her, soaking my chin, my throat, and the bench beneath us. I groan, lapping at her through the flood, drinking her down with wet slurps that have her trying to wiggle away in embarrassment, but I stop her by wrapping my arms around her thighs. Her legs give out. She collapses onto the booth, trembling, oversensitive, and empty.

I roll us over, pulling her on top of me without ever slipping out. Her hands find my chest, her hair falling in a dark curtain around us. My hands find her hips, and I begin to rock her, slow and deep, forcing her to ride me through the aftershocks. Her cloudy green eyes fix on my face, hungry and insatiable.

"Ride me," I say. "And don't stop until I tell you to."

She moves like a woman possessed.

Her hips roll, her cunt gripping my cock with every rise and fall. I watch her tits bounce, small and perfect, the nipples hard and aching, and I reach up to cup them, to pinch them, to roll them between my fingers. She moans, throwing her head back, and I feel her clench around me, a ripple of pleasure that makes my eyes roll back.

"You like that?" I growl. "You like me playing with your tits while you fuck yourself on my cock?"

"Yes," she gasps. "Yes, Romeo. Don't stop."

I sit up, pulling her against my chest, and take one nipple into my mouth. I suck hard, my tongue flicking the sensitive tip, and she cries out, her hips bucking wildly. My other hand finds her ass, squeezing the sore flesh, and she hisses through her teeth but does not slow down.

"That's it," I murmur against her breast. "Take what you need."

When her orgasm hits, it detonates through her body in violent, pulsing spasms, soaking my cock and thighs in warm, sweet slickness. I roar her name into the empty club, spilling my hot cum deep inside her, holding her tight against my chest until our ragged breaths are the only sounds left in the dark.

My wife. My Donna. My beautiful, deadly queen.

And anyone who tries to touch her will die in blood.

She collapses against me, boneless and trembling. I hold her there, kissing her hair, her forehead, and her scarred eyelids.

"You are going to walk out of here with my cum dripping down your thigh," I whisper. "And everyone is going to know."

"Good," she murmurs against my skin.

I laugh, low and satisfied. "Get dressed, Donna. I'm taking you for gelato. I love watching you lick an ice cream cone just like you do for my cock."

She lifts her head, her eyes sparkling with defiance and love. "I think I need a minute."

I grin, pulling her tighter. "Take all the time you need. I am not done holding you yet. We have all the time in the world, and taking you away on the yacht in a few days is making my imagination running wild with having you all to myself."

“I can’t wait—" she starts to say, but my phone interrupts her as it buzzes on the low table by us, Jamie’s name flashing on the screen.

“Fuck.”

NINE