22. Tristan
TRISTAN
T he meeting with Konstantin runs longer than expected, and by the time I get home, the sun is setting behind the Miami skyline.
My head is spinning with contingency plans and worst-case scenarios, but underneath it all is a constant thread of worry about Simone.
The incident on the beach today was too close, too brazen.
Sal is getting bolder, which means he's getting either more confident in his plans or more desperate.
Either way, it spells trouble for me. For us .
I find Simone in the main living room when I return, curled up on the end of one forest-green couch with a book in her lap.
She’s staring at it, but as I watch her, her eyes don’t move.
She’s not really reading it, and I wonder if what happened this afternoon shocked her more than she wants to admit.
My wife is tough. Stubborn. Strong. All things that are making me grudgingly respect her more and more, even if she drives me absolutely insane.
She’d never admit if what happened upset her, but the thought of it, for some reason, makes me want to go to her.
Makes me want to pull her into my arms, stroke her hair, and promise her that I’ll protect her.
I’m starting to doubt even myself, though. I did my best to protect her today, without trapping her, which I knew would only make things worse between us right when I was starting to see a sliver of light after last night. I sent some of my best men with her, but someone still got close.
I had half a mind to fire every single one of them or worse, but I know mistakes can be made. The man looked harmless. I might have made the same error.
No one is perfect. Least of all me.
I’ve made mistakes with her. I can admit that.
Mistakes I’d like to put right, to give us a chance, because last night made me feel things that terrified me.
Things that made me wonder if I need to put distance between us, just so that something other than my patience doesn’t break because of my wife.
I’ve never felt any emotion for any woman I’ve ever been with. Nothing but lust. Never anything deeper. But with Simone…
Last night, I wanted more than sex. I wanted her . I wanted her to open up to me, to be vulnerable with me, to give me something of herself that she’d never given anyone else that was more than just her body. And I tried to open up to her, too.
This morning, I woke up wanting to lie there with her in my arms forever. I left as quickly as I did because the thought scared the shit out of me.
I don’t know if she knows that I’m standing here or not, but she doesn’t look up at me.
I push away from the doorframe, striding toward my office as I message Vitto to send me the day’s security footage.
It’s not that I don’t trust the men that I have stationed here at the estate, but after what happened, I want to be absolutely sure that there’s nothing they missed.
I go through the footage of the entire estate, inside and out, noticing nothing out of place.
I run through all of it until Simone came home, and pause, on the verge of closing out of it and calling it a day.
It’s already past dinner, and I’m sure Simone has gone up to her room by now.
I’m a little disappointed she didn’t try to come find me.
Just as I’m about to close out of the screen, I notice something in one of the frames, a few hours after I left.
The first ones show Simone napping in the small sitting room on that damned couch, a sight that makes my cock twitch just remembering what we did there last night. But a little while after…
I pull up the video, telling myself I’m just doing my due diligence. But it’s nothing but an excuse to view what I’m pretty sure I saw in the frames.
The moment the video starts to play, my cock hardens instantly.
There in front of me is a video of my wife, her yellow sundress tugged up around her hips, panties pushed to one side, fingers working busily between her thighs.
Her head is tipped back, a look of pure pleasure written across her face, and I’m fucking aching by the time I’ve watched five minutes of it.
When she pulls down her dress, freeing her perfect breasts, I feel pre-cum drip down my length, an insistent throbbing pulsing through it.
It’s all I can do to not get my cock out and stroke it while I watch my wife play with her perfect pussy in front of me, but an idea is forming in my head. Because this … this can’t go unpunished.
I gave her rules about this. Instructions not to touch herself or make herself come without permission. And the fact that any one of my security team could have seen this video?—
Just the thought makes me want to go and carve out their eyes on the chance that they might have seen my wife touching herself. That one of them might get off tonight thinking about her.
She’s mine . The thought throbs through my head, in time with the insistent pulse in my dick, and I reach for my phone, sending Simone a text just as I see her mouth fall open and hear my name spill from her lips.
Tristan …
Fuck . I close my eyes, fighting the urge to come in my suit trousers without ever having touched myself. I’m on the fucking brink just from watching her, from hearing her, like I’m a goddamn teenager all over again.
I can’t help but wonder if she’ll ignore my text, despite the fact that I said I needed her in my office, no questions asked or argument, right now. If there’s anything I know about Simone, it’s that she hates being told what to do. But if she doesn’t show up in five minutes…
I’m going to find her and fuck her in whatever room she happens to be in.
I almost sigh in relief when I hear her footsteps outside of the office. She walks in a moment later without bothering to knock, and I look up as I replay the video, my cock throbbing all over again at the sight of her in the tight black bike shorts and tank top that she’s wearing.
“You wanted to see me?” she arches an eyebrow, clearly wondering what it is that I need so badly, and I crook a finger at her.
“Come here, célie .”
She hesitates, hearing the tone of my voice, and I see her narrow her eyes.
“Close the door behind you.”
She purses her lips, but does so, not moving any closer. A moment later, the sound of her moans spills out over my speakers, and her face instantly hardens.
"Seriously?" she snaps, her voice sharp with irritation. "You called me down here while you're watching porn?"
I can't help but laugh at that. "It's not porn."
"Then what—" She stops mid-sentence as I turn the screen toward her, as she recognizes the room, the couch, herself. The color drains from her face, only to be replaced by a furious blush a few seconds later. "Oh my God."
The smirk on my lips grows. "Oh my God is right."
"You were watching me?" Her voice is biting, accusing, and I can see the mortification in her eyes.
"I was reviewing security footage from today. Imagine my surprise when I found this little gem." I sit back, the video still playing. On my screen, Simone tugs down her dress, her hand still working between her legs.
"Turn it off,” Simone snaps.
"I don't think so." I pause just long enough for her to hear herself crying out my name as she comes, before I start the video over again. Simone looks as if she wants to disappear into the floor.
"Tristan, please?—"
“That’s what you just moaned while you came, yes.” I’m enjoying this far too much, considering the fact that my wife was pleasuring herself for anyone to see.
“ Tristan .” My name comes out through gritted teeth. “This isn’t fucking funny?—”
“You’re right.” I shut off the video abruptly.
“It isn’t funny. Do you know what this means?
" I stand up, moving around the desk toward her.
"It means my security team had footage of my wife pleasuring herself in one of the rooms of this house.
It means every one of my guards who monitors these feeds could potentially see this.
That they might have already seen it. That one of them might be fucking his fist right now thinking about my wife . "
She starts to back up, but I’m faster. I grab her around the waist, spinning her around and backing her against the desk. Her eyes go wide as I crowd against her, letting her feel the hard length of my cock against her smooth thigh.
“I told you what would happen if you touched yourself without permission, Simone,” I murmur.
“I warned you that this pussy—” I slide one hand between her thighs, cupping her there in my palm, “is mine. That you come when I say so. You certainly don’t come where a security camera can see you, where anyone could have footage of what my wife looks like when she orgasms.”
“I didn’t know there was a camera in there,” she snaps.
“Well, now you do.”
“So I won’t do it again—” She tries to writhe away from me, but I hold her in place, my body blocking any possible escape for her.
“You squirming against me is just making me harder, Simone.” I smile, enjoying the expression on her face. Her cheeks are flushed, whether from embarrassment or arousal, I can't tell. Probably both.
“Fine,” she snaps. “Spank me or put me down on my knees or whatever you want to fucking do. I don’t care.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “I bet you’re dripping right now, thinking about all those possibilities.”
“I’m not?—”
“Careful about lying to me, Simone.” I reach for the hem of her tank top, dragging it up and over her taut stomach, above her small breasts. “Now, it’s clear I need to reinforce the rules. I can’t have my security guards seeing my wife like this. Which means if you need to come, you wait for me."
"That's not?—"
"It's exactly how it's going to be." I lift her up as I grab her shorts with one hand, yanking them and her panties down before setting her on the edge of the desk. "You want to touch yourself? You do it when I'm here to watch. You want to come? You do it on my terms."