Chapter 7 #2
My name pierced the night air, as sharp as a blade, and almost as cold as the frosty bite that cooled my face.
My husband was watching us with an unreadable expression. His car was parked illegally on the kerb, but Alessio was a man used to flouting the rules.
Embarrassed at being caught unaware, I turned to Archie and gave him an awkward smile. “Bye.”
“Bye, Mills.”
Alessio's face darkened, and his narrowed glare sized Archie up.
He opened the car door for me, still keeping an eye on poor Archie, and I winced when Alessio slammed it shut behind me. When he climbed into his seat, he simply sat there for a few seconds before finally starting the engine and pulling into the flow of traffic.
The silence stretched between us, long and uncomfortable. The tension seeped into the small confines of the vehicle, and I lowered my window an inch to try to cool the friction.
Alessio cleared his throat. “How was your night?”
My hand tightened on my backpack, fiddling with the zip. “It was good. Nice to get out.”
“Who was that boy you were talking to?”
I turned to him, surprised at the bite in his tone. “Boy? He's a year older than me."
“Millie.” There was an edge of warning in his voice.
My face paled at the insinuation I read there. Surely he doesn't think…? What a bloody hypocrite. “That was Archie," I tightly confirmed. "He's a first year like me.”
"What was that letter he handed to you?"
Alessio's eyes were focused on the London traffic, although his jaw pulsed with some invisible emotion.
"It was a flyer for his band. They play on Saturdays, and he invited me to his gig."
"We're busy on Saturday. We have that birthday in Knightsbridge."
I was surprised he remembered. It was usually me who had to remind him of any upcoming social events.
"I know. But apparently they have some sort of residency there, so it doesn't need to be this Saturday."
Alessio remained quiet. Shadows from the light of the lampposts struck patterns across his handsome features, highlighting the tic in his jaw and the furrow of his brow. I could feel the strain vibrating from him.
His hands gripped the steering wheel, and his strong thighs moved beneath his suit as he changed gears. I rolled my lips in as I watched, soon becoming distracted by his movements. He was driving his Bentley today, my favourite of his luxury vehicles.
A warm throb hummed low in my belly, and I clenched my thighs together before I forced my attention away.
I always found it sexy watching my husband drive.
I loved the way he manoeuvred his car through the tight city streets, or the way his arm stretched across the back of my seat as he performed a parallel park or reversed into a spot.
He never used his reversing camera, preferring to check his blind spots himself—and I found it all so utterly, irresistibly attractive.
So for the remainder of the drive, I stayed quiet and kept my attention on the moving London streets. I chose to ignore the fact that my husband was acting like a jealous arse. How dare he? After all his women?
When we arrived home, I poured myself a glass of water to sober up before I toed off my sensible shoes and made my way to my bathroom. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the warm spray, letting the water wash away the long and tiring day.
So much for the relaxing bath I'd planned—although I didn't regret going out with my uni mates. It was nice to unwind, but I wasn't going to make a habit of it. I wasn't a big drinker, and loud bars weren't really my scene, but I still enjoyed getting to know everyone a bit better.
When I stepped into our bedroom, Alessio was sitting on the edge of the bed, having showered in his own bathroom. I tried not to stare at his naked torso, but it was hard not to when I could feel his heavy gaze on me.
"Come here," his gruff voice commanded.
Startled green eyes met his brown ones, and I swallowed hard at the open desire written on his face.
No matter how strained things were between us, my body always felt tethered to him, like an invisible bond that refused to sever.
My feet padded against the soft carpet towards him until my body met the space between his splayed thighs.
I sucked in a breath as his hand landed on the backs of my thighs.
His heavy stare stayed on mine as fingers slid up until they reached my arse cheeks.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured. I felt the air touch my back as my nightie was pulled up my body.
"Alessio," I moaned.
His dark head bent before the soft touch of his lips pressed against the skin of my stomach. My hands reached and buried in his soft hair.
My nightie was off me now, and I stood before him in a pair of minuscule panties. Topless.
My nipples puckered, and not from the cold. His mouth continued to kiss my body, his tongue tracing against the curve of my hips, the softness of my stomach, and the slopes of my breasts.
I yelped when I was yanked forward, my hands falling to his strong shoulders to steady myself. My knees hit the mattress, straddling him. I didn't have time to react before his mouth covered my nipple.
My moan was long and loud as I threw my head back and gave in to the pleasurable sensation of his tongue circling my rigid nipple. He palmed the heavy globes, kneading them gently as he delivered soft and passionate kisses against their flesh.
"I need to taste you," he murmured against a wet nipple.
"Yesss."
With fluid movements, he folded his body to lay down on the bed, arranging me to face his straining erection. His fingers gripped my arse and pulled my dripping flesh down onto his mouth.
The first touch of his tongue against my wet clit had me whimpering. His fingers split my pussy lips wide before I felt his lips suck and lick at my juices.
With shaky fingers and a ragged breath, I clumsily pushed his briefs down. His hips lifted to help me, and my mouth watered as his big erection sprang free. My small hands encircled his smooth flesh, and I pumped his cock gently.
I bent down to lick at his precum, which elicited a tortured groan from him. My mouth sank down his length, and his taste was of pure, hot, male saltiness. I eagerly bobbed my head for more.
His moan vibrated through my wet pussy, and his mouth pushed off long enough for him to groan rough words of pleasure in Italian. My hands gripped his balls and gently massaged them as I continued to suck and lick at his hard cock.
His fingers invaded my small hole, and he pumped them in and out as he continued to lick at me.
"Yesss, right there, Alessio!"
"Come for me, tesoro mio."
My nails dug into his thighs as ripples of pleasure travelled through me. I felt my juices leak onto his mouth as he lapped me deeply.
My mouth went back down on his cock, and I took him deep into my mouth, my throat constricting as I forced my head down.
"That's it, piccola. Take me deep. Open that throat for me."
I moaned at his dirty words until I felt the first spurts of his cum against my tongue.
His groan of pleasure thrilled me as more of his salty release spilt into my mouth.
He slapped my arse before kneading it as I moaned, licking and swallowing some of the cum that had dribbled onto his balls and thigh.
He rubbed my wet pussy through another orgasm and, in the throes of another bout of ecstasy, he arrogantly staked his claim on me.
"You are mine, you understand? My wife. No one can take you away from me."
It was the last thing I heard before my eyes rolled back in my head as another mini climax overtook me.