15. Finn
The excitement of the crowd is palpable in the packed arena as the match comes closer and closer to being called. The smile on my wife’s face as she watches the two fighters in the octagon attack each other is fucking breathtaking. I knew this would be right up Alessia’s alley. She loves sparring as much as I do, and with her training and skill, along with her taste for violence, there was no doubt in my mind this was the perfect date. As exciting as the fight is, I can’t seem to pull my attention away from her face for more than a few brief moments. The gasps and murmurs falling from her lips as she watches the men try to dominate one another send delight and amusement through me. There’s no doubt she’s scrutinizing every move they make to find their mistakes, not that there are many. But Alessia wouldn’t be who she is if she didn’t point each one out, even if it’s only to herself.
When the bruised and bloody fighter is called to be the new world champion, Alessia and I are on our feet, cheering loudly with the rest of the crowd. Her beaming smile is directed at me when I lean down to kiss her.
“That was amazing,” she says with a breathless quality to her voice like she was the one in the ring. “I’ve never been to any sort of fight like this. The only boxing I’ve ever seen in person was at your fight.”
“That’s hardly on par with this, though. Our fights are barely a step up from any back-alley brawl.” Maybe a touch higher, but Eoghan insists on keeping the fights as gritty as possible. He says the crowd comes for the bloodbath then stays for the alcohol. It’s his deal, so I let him run things how he sees fit. Plus, we make a pretty penny from those nights, which tells me he must be doing something right.
“I don’t know. I liked watching you fight that night.” Her arms wrap around my neck while mine circles her waist in the bustling arena. “There’s something about seeing you in the ring, all sweaty and focused.”
“Did watching those guys turn you on, wife?”
She shakes her head. “No, that was fun. Watching you is something else.”
Her face tilts toward mine, and I kiss her red lips.
“I’ve never met a woman with a vicious streak quite like yours, Alessia,” I murmur in her ear. “You have no idea how bad it makes me want to fuck you against that octagon.”
Her head tilts back on a laugh, which gives me the opportunity to playfully nip at the smooth skin of her neck.
She pulls away all too soon for my liking. “I’d rather not get arrested in Atlantic City tonight for public indecency. Each of us has gone this long without a criminal record. Let’s not break that stride.”
“You’re right. Cillian would never forgive me if he had to drive out here to bail us out of jail. And there’s no way I’d let Eoghan do it. Knowing him, it would be the first thing he’d bring up at Sunday brunch.”
“That settles it. You’ll just have to take me back to our suite and fuck me there like a good, law-abiding citizen.”
“I think it’s time to go then because I don’t know how much longer you can expect me to stare at your ass in this red dress and not flip it up so I can sink inside your pussy.”
Alessia’s eyes flare with unmistakable heat before she spins around in my arms and grabs my hand in hers, yanking me toward the exit. My wife’s sensual appetite knows no bounds, and I’m one lucky son of a bitch for it.
The ride back to the hotel is filled with wantful touches and needy glances. I may have gotten away with fingering her on the plane, but I don’t want to press my luck with it in the limo. We aren’t far from our hotel, and there’s something to be said for building anticipation. Hell, it’s been building in me all day. Especially when she slipped into the red dress I fucking love so much.
When we step into the elevator, I back her against the wall as the door slides shut. I don’t touch her, instead pressing my hands against the wall on either side of her head. Her lips are parted, and her sweet breath tickles my mouth when I lean in close and connect our gazes.
“When we get upstairs, you’re going to stand in front of the window and press your hands to the glass.” I’ve had that image in my head since we walked into the suite earlier today. “You’re not going to say a word. I want you to wait for me and imagine all the things I’m going to do to you against that glass. How hard I’m going to make you come while you look down on all the poor saps who will never be lucky enough to have a woman like you to play with and worship. All those poor souls who’ll never know what it’s like to have a man who would maim and kill anyone who threatened harm to her.”
Alessia’s pupils dilate to the point they nearly block out her moss-green irises.
The elevator door opens into the suite. I push myself off the wall and turn my head, looking back at my wife, who hasn’t moved an inch. Her hand goes to her lower belly as she closes her eyes and blows out a breath through puckered lips.
“I think I gave you an order, wife. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Her eyes open and snap into focus. There’s a touch of defiance that only lasts a moment before she walks to the window and does as instructed. She places her hands on the glass, and I make my way to the bar and fill my glass with ice, then splash a healthy pour of whiskey over it. I usually drink it straight, but I have plans for the freezing cubes that clink in the glass as I bring it to my lips for a sip.
Alessia cranes her neck to watch me and I click my tongue. “I thought I told you to watch all the people outside, wife. You’re not very good at following directions, are you?”
“You’re just now figuring that out?”
I lean against the bar and take another sip from my glass as I study the curves of her body and the subtle way her ass is tipped up. I’ve pumped my cock so many times to the memory of her in that dress after we first met that it’s almost embarrassing. She looks even better tonight because I know I’ll be deep inside her before the evening’s over rather than driving home with an ache in my dick like last time.
Her eyes track my movements as I walk over to stand behind her. She still isn’t looking below us. Instead, she’s watching my reflection in the mirror.
“Do you remember our wedding night? How it felt to look over the city we were about to claim as our own?”
“I needed help with my zipper,” she replies on a whisper.
“And I didn’t think I’d ever feel as desperate to touch you as I did that night, but I was wrong. I’m just as desperate, just as consumed with the feel of your skin as I was that night, maybe even more so now that I’ve tasted it.”
My hand brushes the hair from her back over her shoulders before I slowly begin dragging the pull of her zipper down, letting my finger run along her exposed skin. A shiver runs through Alessia, and I smile, loving the sight of what my simple touch does to her.
Grabbing a cube from my glass, I brush it against her neck, then slowly run it down her spine, allowing the heat of her skin to melt the ice as I watch the rivulets of water drip down to her ass. She lets out a hiss at the sensation, her back arching, but she doesn’t move otherwise or tell me to stop. When the ice has nearly melted, I bring it to my mouth and crunch it between my teeth, then bend, dragging my cold tongue up her spine to the back of her neck.
“I love the taste of your skin.”
Alessia turns her head, looking at me over her shoulder, molten desire swimming in her green gaze.
“Slide your dress off,” I tell her.
“You’re quite demanding tonight.” Her teasing voice elicits a growl from my throat.
“And impatient.” I step back a few inches. “Dress. Now.”
Alessia narrows her eyes but doesn’t argue further, instead removing her hands from the glass and slipping the red fabric off her shoulders and over her hips, letting it pool on the ground around her feet. The tiny black lace panties she’s wearing barely cover her round ass.
“You know what else I love, Alessia?”
“Hmm?” She kicks her dress to the side, and I pull her against my chest, her back to my front, before she circles her arms around my neck.
“I love the taste of whiskey and your cunt,” I say, removing another cube of ice from my glass. “In fact”—I slide it across her chest to the valley between her breasts encased in black lace to the top of her matching panties—“when I tasted the two combined on the plane earlier, I decided it was my new favorite flavor.”
Her breaths come in short pants as I run the ice along the skin of her lower belly, watching her eyes fall closed in the reflection of the window. Her thighs are rubbing together, seeking some sort of friction to help alleviate the ache in her center. The movement causes her ass to rub against my hard cock. I’m not sure she’s even aware she’s doing it until I catch the smirk playing on her lips.
“You want to get fucked hard, don’t you, wife?”
“God, yes.” Her voice is a hoarse moan as I continue to tease her with the ice, dipping it into her panties ever so slightly.
“But I’m not done playing with you yet.”
I slip the cube all the way inside the lace fabric and through her hot center. She lets out a surprised gasp and tunnels her fingers through my hair, clutching the strands in her tight grip as I circle her clit with the ice.
“Holy fuck, Finn,” she hisses.
Removing the cube from her pussy, I drop the half-melted ice back into my glass and swirl it around before taking a long sip, finishing the whiskey.
“Fucking divine.”
I toss the glass to the floor because, at this point, I don’t give a shit about making a mess. I spin her in my arms and yank her by the back of her neck, crashing my mouth to hers. The kiss is wild and desperate, both of us beyond any sort of reason or sanity. We’re feeding off each other’s passion and it’s almost as though it’s turning us into animals. Alessia’s hands go to either side of my shirt and she rips the damn thing open, scoring her nails over my chest and down my abs until she reaches my belt. With deft fingers, she quickly undoes the leather and rips my zipper down before freeing my raging hard-on. When her fist squeezes my dick, we both let out a hiss.
“Stop teasing me and fuck me,” she demands.
Hoisting her up, she wraps her legs around my waist. Taking two steps forward, I slam her against the tall window. I can’t wait another second to be inside my wife. Moving her panties to the side, I slam into her in one hard thrust.
“Yes,” Alessia screams as I begin to pump with an intense brutality meant to bring us to the peak as fast and as hard as possible.
Her nails claw over my shoulders, and her heels are digging into my ass as I crush her against the glass, rutting into her like a fucking rabid beast. Our foreheads press together, and her wide eyes tell me she’s close to the edge. Thank God because I’m not sure I can hold off much longer.
“I need you to get there, baby. Fuck, the way you strangle my cock feels so fucking good.”
Her walls begin to flutter around me, and a second later, her teeth press into my shoulder, biting hard. I barely register the pain as I erupt inside of her, taking us both over the edge on a shout of indescribable pleasure. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever come so fucking hard in my entire life.
When my mind settles back into clear consciousness, Alessia’s lips brush over the angry red mark she left on my skin.
“Sorry about that,” she begins. “I may have gotten a little carried away.”
“I don’t know why you think I need an apology, wife. I’m not sorry in the least.”
I slip from her core but keep her wrapped tightly around my waist.
“You can let me down.”
“I could do a lot of things, doesn’t mean I’m going to.”
Walking over to the couch, I sit down with her straddling my lap. “Now, take your bra off. I haven’t spent nearly enough time in our short marriage playing with your tits.”
I’ve come to realize when we wake the next morning, there simply isn’t enough time to play with my little wife all the ways I want to in one night. My imagination is far too extensive, and we have to get back to reality today. We eventually succumbed to exhaustion sometime in the early hours of the morning. When my phone rings as the sun is peeking in from the window, the last thing I’m prepared for is having a coherent conversation.
I grab my phone from the nightstand next to the bed we crashed into last night, seeing Cillian’s name flash on the screen.
“This better be good,” I tell him, scrubbing a hand over my face.
“Cataldi was spotted at a bar on the border of Farina and Amatto territory by one of our guys. Said he was there meeting with Orlando Farina himself. I don’t like this, Finn. If the Farinas and what’s left of the Cataldis team up, they’ll be pushing into Amatto territory in no time.”
Shit. I sit up in bed and look over to my wife, who is beginning to stir. A month ago, I wouldn’t have given two shits about anything that happens in Worcester, but now? Now, I have a very good reason sleeping next to me to make sure not only my organization is strong but her father’s as well.
“I’ll call the pilot and have him get the plane ready for an early takeoff.”
I wasn’t planning on being back in Boston until later, hoping to spend more time with Alessia, making use of every available surface of this suite. “I’ll call you when we land.”
I immediately dial the pilot, who assures me the plane can be ready within the hour, then I call a car service to take us to the private airport.
Alessia groans next to me and peels one eye open. “Why does it sound like you’re going to make me get out of this nice, warm bed?”
“Sorry, baby. We have to get home. Cillian called and it sounds like Carlo’s poked his head out from whatever hole he’s hiding in again.”
“Fuck. I can’t wait until that bastard is six feet under,” she mumbles, turning toward the edge of the bed to get up.
“Have I told you how much I love your taste for violence?” I ask, admiring her perfect ass as she stands from the bed.
“What can I say? I don’t appreciate him disrupting my mornings.” She sends me a small smile before walking into the bathroom.
When my cock stirs, I look down then back to Alessia, who has just turned on the shower.
She catches my gaze in the mirror and must see something in my expression. “Don’t even think about it. If we have to meet the plane in an hour, that’s just enough time for me to shower and get ready, so get that look off your face.”
She closes the door on me. Even though my hope for a quickie has deflated, my damn dick hasn’t gotten the message.
“Sorry, buddy,” I mutter and get off the bed to get the coffee started and pack our bags.
Stepping into the cabin of the plane, there’s a large breakfast spread waiting for us. Thank God, because I am fucking starving. Neither of us has eaten since last night, and we spent the rest of the evening after the fight burning several thousand calories, I’m sure. We have just enough time to eat and enjoy a little peace and quiet before the plane lands, and Enzo and Cillian meet us at the airport.
“Take Alessia home and stay there with her. I’m going with Cillian.”
Enzo nods and puts our bags in the trunk.
“Are you coming home tonight?” Alessia asks when I walk her to her car.
“I’ll try. Cillian and I need to do some digging on Cataldi’s associates. Maybe question a few people.” I wrap her in my arms before she gets in the car. “But if I’m not going to be home before the sun comes up, I’ll make sure to call you.”
She smiles and leans up, standing on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on my lips. “Be safe.”
I shoot her a smile then deepen the kiss before leaning back. “Always am, wife.”