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“Oh—do you normally know who your wife wears, Mr. Lupo?” a reporter from TMZ asked.

“No, but tonight was a surprise, and so was the dress. Please excuse us.” The red carpet drained me so much that by the time we arrived in the theater for the screening, I fell asleep on his shoulder. Before I could argue, he lifted me up and carried me out of the theater. Thankfully, he led me out a private exit.

“Sorry, Gio,” I replied against his chest.

“No apologies needed. It was a long day and a lot of emotions.”

“Yes, like lust,” I muttered. Giovanni stiffened, and a low rumble came from his firm, muscular chest. “Oh, God, you weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Who is my wife lusting over? Who is going to meet my gun?” I pressed my hand to his chest, feeling his heart beat out of control.

“I was lusting over my possessive husband.”

“Wife, don’t tease me. I’m hanging on by a thread, a worn-out thread.”

“Shall I give it a final tug?”

“Damn right.” As soon as Marco pulled up to the valet, Giovanni hoisted me out of the vehicle and carried me like we were being chased.

I laughed. “You could slow down.”

“The hell I can. My wife finally wants me.”

“I’ve wanted you from the moment you stepped into that shitty motel room.” He growled and used a free finger to jab the up button. The doors had barely opened before he rushed us to the back wall. He set me down on the ground, and then his mouth landed on mine with a punishing kiss. I parted my lips as he bruised them, fighting his way in.

“Mine,” he whispered, biting down on my bottom lip. His fingers went to my dress, slipping underneath.

“Oh my God. What are you doing to me?”

“What does it feel like, baby?”

“So much pleasure.”

“Good. That’s what you need. You were asking for it, weren’t you? That’s right, ride my fingers. Come and soak my fingers.” I let out a feral cry as my pussy clenched around his thick digits. The elevator dinged just in time. “You’re so sexy when you give it all to me.”

I panted, “That’s not all, Husband. There’s so much you didn’t claim.” He lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.

“Then I’d better get to it.” We made it only inside before he pinned me to the door, his hand catching my head. “Mine, Mariana. Say it. Say what I want to hear.”

“I’m yours,” I whispered against his mouth. My hands slid into his hair, tugging on his thick strands.

“Fuck me, please,” I begged.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Do you not want me?” I wondered, hoping he wasn’t having second thoughts. He shook his head and gently kissed my lips, jaw, down my throat, and back up again.

“Want is weak compared to what I feel. I need you, crave you. God, I want to devour you and then plunge deep inside of you until there is nothing between us.”

“Sorry.” He dragged me over to the bed, landing on top of me with a light grunt. His movements were chaotic and unpracticed, but I only cared that he was finally taking me.

“No, it’s perfect.” He lifted my right leg and planted a kiss on my inner thigh. He slipped off my shoes one at a time, then he pushed my dress up. Gio rubbed the edge of my panties, teasing my pussy. He nudged them aside and then slowly caressed my slit. All embarrassment I should have felt didn’t exist. My back arched as he pushed a finger inside. I moaned loudly, clinging to him.

He stood up and then stared down at me before he said, “Sorry.”

“For what?” Was he not into it anymore? The thick ridge laying against my upper thigh a moment ago told me he was more than ready.

With a smile, he didn’t hesitate as he clutched the top of my dress and tore. “This.”