Chapter 25
25
MICHAEL
As we turn onto the street that leads home, a black SUV speeds past my car. My brows pull together as I watch it go. “That looks familiar. Have you seen it before?” I ask Marco.
He shakes his head slowly. “Not that I recall.”
It went by so fast, I couldn’t even check its plate number. Was it coming from my house? Mine is the only property at the end of this lane—a fact that suddenly feels significant.
We take the turn towards home, and as my car approaches the gate, it swings open automatically, the system recognizing my vehicle and Marco’s face behind the wheel.
My gut tightens. I resist the primal urge to grab my phone and check the cameras. There’s only one reason someone would come to my place this late when I’m not home—to visit my wife.
And if that’s the case, I’d rather hear it from her directly. A convenient excuse to speak to her after what happened earlier.
To my surprise, she’s waiting right on the steps as my car pulls to a halt in front of the house, her body language screaming anxiety despite her attempt to mask it.
I don’t bother waiting for Marco to get my door. I open it myself and step out quickly, making my way towards her.
She knew I was coming, obviously—Synthia would’ve alerted her. But why is she waiting for me out here?
“What is this? A welcome home party?” I ask half-teasing, half–serious. Is she no longer mad at me then?
Her arms cross over her chest, her chin tilting up. “Where the hell have you been?” She’s trying to go on the offensive but her eyes betray her, shifting to the side, refusing to hold my gaze as she speaks.
Ah. She’s hiding something from me.
Interesting .
“Something urgent came up at work that I had to see to,” I answer, carefully studying her. “Why are you all dressed up? Did you have a guest?”
She blinks—too fast. “Yeah, one of our dinner guests forgot their stuff and came back to pick it up.” Another blink.
She’s lying. Badly too. “Is that so? Who was it?”
“Elira. What is this, twenty questions?” She rolls her eyes and turns away from me, walking back into the house.
A strange discomfort settles in my chest at the sight. I don’t like seeing her turn her back to me. I don’t like it at all.
I follow her into the house, trailing behind her up the stairs. Just as she reaches for her bedroom door, I catch up, pressing my hand over hers before she can turn the handle. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She lifts her gaze to mine, those golden eyes flecked with bits of brown—like amber with secrets trapped inside. “My room,” she says, drawing out each word as if she’s explaining it to a stubborn toddler.
“We’re married now, Gianna. We’ve fucked. I think it’s too late to be fighting for your own room. We have our room, down there.” I nod towards the general direction.
She gulps. “I–I don’t know the code to get in.”
I lean into her, letting my lips graze the shell of her ear as I whisper, “Zero–eight–one–zero.”
She shivers, her hand tightening under mine as she unconsciously pushes her frame back into me. “W-what was that?”
“The code to the room.” I place my free hand on her ribcage, right beneath her perfect tits, and draw her the rest of the way into my chest. My cock stirs with immediate, demanding interest, hardening against the small of her back, but I force myself to ignore it—for now.
Taking her hand off the door handle is too easy. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Wait—hold on.” She digs her heels into the floor as I guide her down the hallway. “I’m still mad at you for what you did earlier.” Her voice lacks conviction, though, and we both know it.
“I know. I’ll make it up to you,” I murmur, nuzzling into the sweet crook of her neck. She smells fucking divine. I inhale deeply, and my mouth waters.
I can’t resist—I run my tongue along the side of her throat, savoring the way her breath hitches, her tits pressing into my arms.
Fuck, I’m a lucky bastard. She may be a liar, but she’s my liar.
I tighten my grip around her ribs as I turn her towards our bedroom door. “Type in the code, love.” I bite the soft flesh of her lobe lightly.
“I don’t–I don’t know the code.”
Smirking, I lift my head from the back of her neck and whisper it into her ears again. She types it in as I speak, but as the lock clicks open, she freezes.
“Wait… Why do those numbers sound familiar?”
“What numbers?” I ask, acting clueless as I guide her inside, satisfaction filling me when the door locks behind us. But what really fuels me is the sight before me—the remnants of our earlier encounter. The torn pieces of her dress that still litter the floor, the sheets rumpled from how I had her. Evidence of what we did.
“The code numb– Ers !” Her voice jumps an octave, cutting off on a sharp moan as I craftily shift my hand on her ribs to cup her right tit. “Michael, behave. We need to talk,” she pants, trying to push away from my grip.
I don’t let her go. “I didn’t bring you in here to talk, sweetheart.”
I tilt her head towards me and dip my own down, my crotch tightening when her eyes dilate so sweetly that the black swallows the gold. But just as my lips are about to claim hers, she forcefully pushes me away.
My eyes narrow on her as I let her go. “What is it?”
“I–I–we can’t. My period.” She wrings her hands together, her gaze darting around the room, looking everywhere but at me.
“You mean to tell me you’ve started your period? So suddenly?”
She rolls her eyes. “What? Do you think my period sends me a memo three days in advance? It just happens.”
Admittedly, I’m clueless about that part of the woman's anatomy. Maybe I should learn more. I make a mental note to do some research regarding it because it might pose a problem. Later . “Fine, whatever. What does that have to do with this?” I wave an impatient hand between us.
“What do you mean, what does it have to do with this? I know you were trying to seduce me.”
Amusement spreads through me. “ Good . If you didn’t know, it would mean I wasn’t doing such a stellar job. Now, come here.” I reach for her, but she jumps away with a squeal.
“Michael! No! I’m bleeding out of my vagina.” Her words end on a breathless giggle as she runs away from me.
It’s like she doesn't remember who I am. “Do I look like a little blood would make me squeamish?” I stalk towards her. “I don’t care.”
“Well, I do.” She yelps when my fingers graze her wrist and tries to jump back, but I’ve got her. “Michael…” she whines.
“Let’s make a compromise. We’ll try it once, and if you don’t like it, I’ll never bring it up again.”
“But I?—”
I shut up her protest with a kiss. A deep, filthy kiss that immediately has her moaning into my mouth, her arms wrapping around my neck. Victory lashes through me, and I grunt as all the blood left in my head rushes straight to my cock, leaving me dizzy and starving for more.
I feed her my tongue, and she takes it greedily, fingertips digging into my skin as the kiss becomes wetter, more intense. My hands slide to her waist, my thumbs rubbing slow, firm circles along her lower back, and she moans, shuddering against me at the pressure.
Fuck. She’s killing me.
Without breaking the kiss, I lift her into my arms. She locks her legs around my waist, kissing me back with equal amounts of fervor, as I walk us towards the bed.
I drop her onto the mattress, her dark hair fanning out over the silk sheets. She pushes some strands out of her eyes and blinks at me as I climb over her, undoing her pants.
“Wait.”
“ Shhh .” I press a kiss to her hipbone as I slide the fabric down her legs. Tossing it aside, I push up her top to expose the pretty swell of her belly.
My mouth waters, and I lean down, thrusting my tongue into the inviting hole of her belly button, tasting her, savoring the way her fingers clench against my shoulders.
She moans, body shifting beneath me, but I don’t move on just yet. I give her belly button—and the skin surrounding it—undivided attention, my lips and tongue working her over until she’s too lost in pleasure to think about her fear of having bloody sex with me.
But the anticipation coils tight in my muscles.
Enough waiting.
Still keeping the pressure of my mouth on her belly, I hook my fingers into the hem of her panties and drag them down her legs in one long pull. Only then do I move back and drop my gaze to her sweet cunt.
No blood.
I frown uncomprehendingly. What the fuck?
When I glance up, Gianna’s hooded eyes clear, and she shifts uncomfortably before snapping her legs shut.
“I–I meant my period will come sometime tonight,” she stammers. “And, um, if I orgasm, the contractions will just make it come faster, so I was–I am –trying to delay it.”
She’s lying through her damn teeth. What the hell is she up to? My gut tells me it has something to do with the visitor from earlier. What the fuck did Elira tell her? If that woman’s conspiring with my wife to dupe me, there will be hell to pay—Maximo be damned.
I push her lies away and let it go for now. I’ll figure out what’s going on later.
Right now, my focus is on this.
I press another lingering kiss to her belly, and my crotch tightens at the thought that, right this second, there’s a possibility my child might be growing inside her.
It’s too soon to know, obviously. We only had sex a few hours ago. But just the idea alone arouses me beyond imagination.
Not only do I get an heir, but it will also tighten our bond, ensuring she never leaves me.
Her hands slowly cradle the back of my scalp as I linger on her belly, and I glance up to find her staring at me, some strange emotion swirling in those golden eyes.
I should fuck her again just to make sure my seed takes root.
My cock hardens immediately as the thought surfaces, and biting urges snap at me to tear her legs apart and rut between them until we both cum.
Keeping our gazes connected, I trail my right hand from her hip down to her inner thigh, then up to where she’s warm and wet. My fingertips graze her damp folds, circling her clit.
Her lips part on a gasp, her eyes fluttering shut, pure sin written across her face. I smirk against her belly and trap her swollen clit between my thumb and index finger, playing with the sensitive organ until it’s firm and throbbing in my grasp and she’s shifting restlessly on the bed.
Moving lower, I sling one leg over my shoulder, then the other, until her pretty pink cunt is right in my face. The sweet scent floods my nostrils, making my tongue tingle with anticipation.
I turn my face into her inner thigh, dragging my nose across the soft flesh and kissing the skin, teasing her—drawing out both mine and Gianna’s pleasure—before slowly inching forward until my lips are hovering over her pussy.
I blow out a warm breath over it, and she moans, her thighs clamping on my shoulders. Good girl. Now that her legs are balanced on me, I let go and reach up one hand to her tits, palming the warm weight of one, while the other finds her clit, teasing and working her up until she’s almost feverish with desire.
Only then do I thrust two fingers inside her, loving the way her tight little sheath grips me and the thready, light moan that escapes her throat. I curl my fingers up inside her, finding the bundle of nerves that’s her g-spot and slightly tickle it.
Her reaction is instant.
Her legs snap shut around my head so quickly and tightly that my ears ring, muffling my hearing.
Fuck, she’s squeezing me like a vice, but I love it.
I fondle her tit, making sure the ball of my palm grazes her stiff nipple as I suck her clit into my mouth.
Then, applying pressure to all three of her pleasure points—nipples, clit, and g-spot—I tug on them all at the same time.
She shatters.
Her body writhes beneath me, shuddering erratically, as she cums and cums and cums .
I lap it all up, enjoying the sweet nectar spilling from her pretty cunt and drinking it like a man dying of thirst. As her orgasm fades, I don’t stop.
I build her right back up again.
This time, I use my tongue and teeth on her clit, flicking and sucking, and her previously lax thighs tighten once more, clamping around my ears.
“Michael…” she moans, breathlessly. “What are you doing to me?”
It’s a rhetorical question, but I answer nonetheless, pulling back just enough to speak. “Making you completely and utterly mine.”
She groans in response, her fingers sinking into my hair—gently at first, but as her pleasure rises again, she yanks, sending delicious sparks of pain across my scalp.
I push her higher and higher, bringing her right to the cusp of another climax?—
Then I pull away, unclenching her fists from my hair and her thighs from my neck.
“Michael,” she whines, her voice cracking with need. “Are you going to be an asshole right now?”
“Of course not, love,” I promise, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her ankle. Once I’m fully off the bed, I undo my belt and tug my trousers down.