Chapter 29
I let the door shut behind me with a soft click, and I lean against it, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. I shouldn’t be this anxious. It’s just another night at the Annex, another night in the room I’ve spent so much time in before.
No sooner do my lungs fill with air than that familiar ocean fragrance washes over me, invading my senses.
My body tenses. He’s here. Right in front of me.
All the times before, he waited for me on his sofa, more than a dozen steps from the door.
But not tonight. I wouldn’t be able to smell his subtle cologne unless he were next to me already.
Two soft thuds—one on each side of my head—and the heavy door groans a little, as if a strong force just pushed on it.
That scent of sea breeze becomes more intense until I feel the warmth of his breath fanning my face.
My pulse stutters and then takes off to heights unknown.
Even with the blindfold tightly tied over my eyes, I can practically see him, caging me in with his arms braced against the door.
Slowly, I reach my hand out until my fingers brush the fine material of his dress shirt.
Is it the navy one? It’s my favorite. It contrasts so beautifully with his crystal-blue eyes, like seeing an iceberg in deep waters.
God, I love his eyes. Wish I could see him for real.
Watch the heat swirling within those pools as he looks at me.
I move my fingers up along the line of the buttons, and his breathing picks up.
The top two buttons of his shirt are already undone.
No tie. That’s strange. And he’s not wearing his jacket.
The swarm of butterflies in my stomach takes frantic flight.
I’m so used to Adriano always being impeccably dressed, in a sharp-pressed three-piece suit most of the time, that his current state is flooding my core.
Is he as eager for us to be together as I am?
“I’ve been thinking about you,” I whisper.
A low, rumbling sound emits from his throat, breaking the charged silence. I tilt my head, my lips brushing his.
“About how you make me feel. As if, one moment, I’m walking across a high wire, afraid to slip…”—I undo the next button—“and the next, I’m in the safest place I could be.”
Another growl.
Heat races across the back of my neck as his fingers glide over my skin, along my spine, pausing at the base, where the ties of my dress are laced in a bow.
“Tell me, my silent guest… Which of those two is true?”
In one forceful tug, he undoes the ties and the remnants of my composure. The silky fabric cascades off my body like falling water to gather at my feet.
His huge hands slide under my ass, and he lifts me. My back collides with the wooden surface of the door, and a gasp escapes from my lips. His hard mouth crashes to mine, merciless and unforgiving. Stealing my breath.
I wrap my legs around his waist and bury my fingers in his thick hair.
And I kiss him back as if there is no tomorrow.
As if we only have tonight. With the game my husband is playing, I can’t be sure that it isn’t true.
But I shove that fear away and surrender to this moment.
Let myself fall off the wire, knowing exactly where I will land.
The coolness of the door disappears. Only a slight awareness of being carried penetrates the haze gripping my mind.
Nothing seems to matter other than his ravenous lips and the warmth of his body as he clutches me to him.
His presence surrounds me. Overwhelms me.
In the best possible way. Like being possessed.
Consumed. Claimed. And I want more. Need more…
I fall on something soft and satiny. Pillows. Sheets. A stray thought flutters at the back of my mind—there shouldn’t be a bed in this room—but it dissipates the moment I feel his mouth on the inside of my thigh.
His palms glide up my legs, and his lips follow, trailing a line of light kisses up one side, and then the other.
He hooks his fingers around the strap of my thong over my left hip, and with a single sharp tug, my panties are no more.
His lips continue their upward path. Is he going to…
? No, he can’t be. Wetness rushes to the apex of my thighs.
My pulse kicks up, heart beating wildly inside my chest as if trying to break free, each thud louder than the last as his mouth drags dangerously closer to my pussy.
I gasp for breath. Oh God. The idea of Adriano Ruffo burying his face between my legs seems preposterous.
A man like him… He can’t actually want to—
One at a time, he grabs the back of my knees and puts my legs over his shoulders. My cry of surprise morphs into a needy moan when I feel it. His tongue. Licking along my slit, laving between my folds.
I pant. My heart is beating like an erratic drum, and suddenly, there isn’t enough air.
What is this man doing to me? His every touch…
Sweet Jesus! Everything inside me sings!
Senses completely scrambled. Awash in pleasure unlike anything else.
Because of him. Because of what only he makes me feel.
This man, who instead of seeking his own thrills, seems to be worshiping me.
My fingers rake through Adriano’s strands, my back arches off the mattress as he feasts on my pussy. His strokes are fast, feral even, there’s no tenderness in his approach. No softness. Just raw claiming. Voracious appetite. Insatiable hunger.
I’m lost.
My body shudders with each lick. Legs trembling.
The coil in my core winds tighter and tighter.
My body is taut. I can’t… I can’t hold on…
His lips close around my clit, and he sucks hard on it.
And I explode. A shrill scream erupts from me.
My hips lift, ready to take flight, but my husband’s strong arms hold me down.
All while his unrelenting tongue continues his ravenous, beautiful torment.
I circle the tip of my tongue around her sensitive nerve bundle, licking each drop of her sweet, sweet nectar.
The proof of the pleasure I gave her. The pleasure I will give her again and again.
With my mouth. My fingers. My cock. Jesus, she tastes like pure fucking heaven. Like innocence. Like mine.
I play with her clit, letting my teeth scrape her swollen flesh, feeling it pulse against my tongue.
And then I resume sucking. She moans, rocking forward.
Good God. The sounds she makes. I’ve built an empire.
Destroyed others. Seized power that very few could even fathom.
Yet nothing has ever satisfied me more than her ardent mewls, her pants, her soft cries while she comes on my tongue.
While my face is coated in her essence. While her intoxicating scent boggles my mind.
I can tell that no other man has ever made her come this hard before, and no man other than me ever will again.
My wife’s pussy is mine. No other man will ever get near it.
No other man will ever taste it, feel it, or hear her decadent sounds.
Not even in his mind. If any asshole even thinks about it…
I’ll gut him like a pig. She’s mine. My pure little flower. My Little Iris.
Carefully, I lower her pretty behind to the bed. A shaky breath leaves her as her gorgeous body melts on the satin sheets. She quivers, shuddering with the aftershocks.
My wife is a vision. A sight I can’t look away from as she reaches out to take off my shirt.
To unzip my pants. My poor dick is so damn hard it’s beyond painful, and seeing her now, flushed from the orgasms I gave her, only makes it harder.
I’m barely holding on to my control. Goddamnit, I could come right now, simply by being near her. By watching her.
Her hair is a tangled mess, with sandy strands falling across her face and blindfold.
It got that way from my hands and from how she thrashed on the bed while I ate her out.
Her lips are swollen from my kisses. Her skin is iridescent with a thin layer of sweat.
Because of me. Because of what I made her feel.
No artist, past or present, could ever depict the divine dream that she is.
Would never even come close. Nothing in this world is as beautiful as her.
Sprawled on the pearly white satin sheets, with her legs open and her pussy glistening. For me.
As soon as my clothes are off, I cover her trembling body with mine.
Everywhere we make contact, I feel the electric zap.
Heat, that spreads in waves through the rest of me.
Fire igniting in my blood. I almost come from that sensation alone.
From the feel of her silky skin beneath me. Her welcoming touch.
Goner. I’m a complete goner.
Lowering my head, I press my lips to her forehead and thrust my cock deep into her still pulsing, wet warmth.
She jerks from the sudden intrusion, sucking in a sharp intake of air.
Fuck, was I too hard? Too forceful? Did I hurt her?
Gathering whatever strength is left in me, I start to slowly pull out.
Her hands grab my shoulders, short nails sinking into my flesh. Not letting me go.
“Again. Harder.”
Two words.
More than enough to make me lose control.
I grab the headboard above her head and thrust back inside her body.
Moans, little cries fill the room as she clings to me while I pound into her relentlessly.
Time and space cease to exist. Reason is gone.
There’s only her. The way she screams out her pleasure.
The way she falls apart in my arms. That becomes the only measure for the hours that pass.
I fuck my wife, again and again, into the early hours of the morning. Until she’s so utterly exhausted she falls asleep tucked into my side. All too soon, a single knock on the door shatters the illusion. Forcing me to return to reality.
I kiss my Little Iris’s sweet face one more time, and then unwrap my body from her sleeping form.
Last time, I vow.
I won’t degrade myself again. Won’t come here just so I can sleep with my wife.
So I can touch her.
Feel her touch.
This lunacy will end.
Lies.
All lies.