37. Carmie
Chapter 37
Carmie
L ights spread across the downtown. The view from the hotel room was gorgeous. Montreal spread out like glittering jewels, a weird mixture of old and new. Even though it’s crisp and comfortable outside, I’m wearing only a pair of panties and a light black t-shirt.
I see him reflected in the window before I feel him. Lev’s hands press against my hips and his erection is half-hard against my ass. He leans down to kiss my neck and brushes my hair to the other side. “What do you think?” he asks.
“Do you know how many times I got to travel over the years?”
I can feel his smile on my skin. “Let me guess. Dozens. Hundreds.”
“Never.”
“Come on. You went on vacations, didn’t you?”
“To Sea Isle in New Jersey. Not to Montreal. Definitely not abroad.”
He’s quiet for a moment as he pushes his body against mine and pins me to the window. My fingers press into the glass and the chill brushes my bare thighs, sending a shiver down my spine.
“You’re mine now,” he whispers. One hand grabs my left wrist and pins it above my head. “Do you want to see the world?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, squirming as his fingers slowly move up my loose shirt and tease my breasts.
“Never thought about it before?”
“Honestly, I never really thought it was in the cards.” I tilt my head back and let out a soft sigh of pleasure as his fingers roll around my stiff nipples and begin moving down my belly toward the hem of my underwear.
“Why not?”
“My father was kind of… controlling isn’t exactly the word. He was restrictive. He had ideas about the kind of woman I was supposed to be.”
“That didn’t involve travel?”
“Definitely not. Travel was a luxury. What did I need to travel for?” I whimper lightly as his fingers brush down through my light pubic hair and into the folds of my pussy. He’s going slow and it’s agonizing.
“I’ll take you places then,” he whispers as one finger slides up and down, stroking my clit. “I’ll take you to Paris and London. I’ll show you Tokyo and Hong Kong. We’ll walk across Italy and eat in tiny restaurants.”
“And who’s watching the baby?”
He laughs as two fingers sink inside of my wet pussy. I groan, back arching into him. “A fleet of nannies,” he says. “However many you need.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then we’ll bring the baby with us.”
“And the nannies?”
“A dozen or more if that’s what it takes. I’m not going to keep you locked away for the rest of your life. You should get to live.”
“It’s hard to think about travel when you’re doing this to me,” I whisper, my breath coming fast and my voice deepening with lust. My eyes close as I press my forehead to the glass.
Beyond me, an entire city to explore. A world I’ve never seen before. It’s only Canada, but it might as well be another universe, as far as I’m concerned. I never really thought about how sheltered and inexperienced I’ve been, but now that I’m with Lev, it’s so obvious how much I don’t know.
He goes faster, fingers sliding in and out, teasing my clit, diving back in. I push back against him but he holds me there, controlled and pinned. I’m gasping with bliss and riding on the edge, but I don’t want to come. Not yet.
I twist from his grip and face him. He smirks at me, devilish, charming, but it’s not a mask this time.
It’s just Lev. My husband.
I drop to my knees and tug down his joggers as I go.
His cock’s hard when I take it in my hand. The glass is smooth against my back, the city past it, as I take him into my mouth. I suck his tip, my tongue rolling around the cleft, tasting his precum. Then I go deeper, sucking him slowly, and maybe with other men I might feel self-conscious, down on my knees in front of an enormous window. I bet the people across the street can see what we’re doing right now.
But with Lev, I don’t care. I’m not worried about my technique. I’m not obsessing over all the mistakes I might be making.
I’m locked in with him.
He groans and grabs my hair. I go down deeper, sucking faster. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers. “You’re such a good girl down on your knees like that.”
I respond by stroking him with one hand and the other on my thigh.
“That’s it, take my big dick in your pretty mouth. I love watching you down on your knees. You feel so fucking good.”
I moan, licking him up and down, but he pulls back. I gasp, staring at him, then he thrusts into my mouth again. Back and forth like that, in and out, fucking my face lightly. I suck hard each time he dips in, and it pops when he pulls back out. His eyes are burning. I can tell he likes this a lot.
I feel sexy and free, in a way I never thought I could.
He drags me to my feet. My panties are wrapped around my knees as he slides himself deep between my legs. I shudder, fingers splayed on the glass. He grabs my hair as he fucks me.
“Your mouth’s wet and tight, but your pussy’s even better,” he moans and shoves my shirt up and presses my chest to the glass. “I want the fucking city to see your perfect fucking tits.”
“Oh my god, Lev,” I whimper, heart thudding like crazy.
“Let them see what’s mine,” he whispers.
Then he’s fucking me again. When his fingers stroke my clit at the same time, it finally breaks me. I come as he tells me how pretty I am and how he’d kill anyone that ever tried to touch me, and my brain shatters into a million pieces as his cock dominates and fills me, and finally we’re both tumbling back onto the bed, sweaty and spent.
“I’ll order champagne,” he says after a comfortable silence.
I grin and kiss his chest. “You enjoyed fucking me that much, huh? Too bad I can’t drink it.”
He pats my ass. “Always, baby, but I mean it’s your first night abroad. Maybe you can’t drink, but you should enjoy yourself anyway.”
“I’m happy enough already. Look at this place.”
He grins when I sit up on an elbow and stare around the room. It’s a five-star hotel, and he bought an incredibly gorgeous suite. I don’t think I’ve been in a room this luxurious before in my life, and it’s almost absurd.
When I look back, he’s staring at me, not at the room. “What?” I ask, blushing like an idiot.
“Nothing. Just thinking how lucky I am.”
“You didn’t think you were lucky when we first got married.”
“I was too stupid at that point and distracted by everything else.” He brushes a thumb across my cheek. “But now I get it.”
“Yeah? Do you?” I lean in and bite his lower lip. He grunts in surprise. “I think you just like fucking me.”
He snarls and rolls me onto my back. I laugh, struggling, and we play-wrestle like that until I eventually end up straddling him, my hands on his chest, grinding my pussy against his hard, twitching dick.
“I definitely like this,” he says, stretching his hands above his head with a sigh. “Your hips are perfect.”
“Only because I’m riding you, idiot.” I breathe deep, heart racing. “What were we talking about before?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You were telling me how amazing I am.”
“Amazing, perfect, gorgeous.” He grabs my ass and squeezes it. “Sexy as hell.”
“Don’t hold back now. Keep going.” I grind faster before I can’t take it anymore and slip him inside of me. I ride him, aching from our first session, but it doesn’t bother me.
“You’re a good partner. You’re fierce when you want to be. And you look goddamn perfect with my dick in your mouth.” He puts two fingers between my lips and I suck them as I ride him faster. The glow’s building and I’m ready to burst.
“More,” I beg, going faster, grinding and riding.
“I love every inch of this messy little pussy,” he whispers, and that’s enough. My triggers pull and I break for him a second time, coming so hard I bite his chest. He holds me, thrusting and taking control until he finishes too.
I’m basically chafed as I roll myself in the silky sheets. He’s grinning like an idiot and we’re both flushed from the orgasms.
“Now I’m ready for bed,” I say, satisfied and sleepy.
“Champagne first.” He rolls over and calls down to the front desk. When he hangs up, he studies me as he pulls on his boxer briefs. “What do you think about coming to dinner with us tomorrow?”
I prop myself up and frown. “Really? With your Quebecois gangsters?”
“I’ll tell them to bring their wives or girlfriends or whoever. It’ll be an informal way to get to know each other with a little buffer to keep things from getting serious.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll keep you safe if you’re nervous about that.”
I shake my head, surprised to find that I hadn’t even considered my own safety. “No, I mean, this is your business. I didn’t really think you’d want me getting involved.”
He sits at the edge of the bed. I shuffle over and put my head in his lap, and he gently strokes my hair. “I want you there. You know what I do. You understand why we’re here. I think you’d be useful.”
“Useful?” I laugh and kiss his knee. “Just what every girl wants to hear.”
He pulls me up into his arms and we lounge on the bed together. I’m smiling the whole time.
I should probably stay back at the hotel. Having dinner with gangsters and their wives isn’t really my thing—except if I’m honest with myself, my whole life has been one long dinner with gangsters and their wives. My father’s a gangster, my brothers, my uncles, everyone I know.
And I like that he wants me by his side. That’s all I’ve ever really wanted—a seat at the table like I’m important and worth having around.
I was joking when I said I liked being called useful .
But really, I do like it. I like it a lot.