31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
Aspen
I never truly believed I’d meet a man capable of pulling that kind of surrender out of me. But something about Luca—his eyes, the rough edge of his accent, and...I won’t even lie to you...his dick. It changes lives. He could tell me the sky was purple and I’d probably just nod and agree.
For three weeks, we have played a game of cat and mouse, going back and forth to see who will give in first. He has been a perfect gentleman, while I have been walking around with the lady equivalent of blue balls.
Honestly, I don’t know how I held out for as long as I did. My body doesn't just whisper for him anymore, it screams.
I step back into the living room from cleaning myself off, still in a daze from what he just got me to do, and my beautiful husband is already hard for me again. He’s stroking himself as if I hadn’t just finished cleaning his release off my breasts.
I swear I’m not some kind of voyeur, but ever since I saw him stroking himself like that, I haven’t been able to stop looking.
It’s dirty and delicious and… freeing. The raw, unashamed sight of his own hunger makes me ache for him all over again, and it leaves me wondering exactly what else he’s been hiding from me.
What is happening to me? I know I said I was enjoying the person I’m becoming with him, but now I’m not sure how far this goes, or if I’m even capable of stopping it.
“Come here,” he commands, his voice pulling me back under his spell.
I smile, then let out a small, breathless whisper. “The last time you issued that order—”
I notice the disappointed look on his face as he cuts me off, furrowing his brow. “Did I tell you to put a shirt on?” His voice is strong, and I genuinely can't tell if he’s joking or not.
“No, I just—”
“Take it off. I haven't taken care of you just yet.”
Oh. This is new. I’ve never had a man be this focused on my pleasure before—at least, not when he wasn't the one getting something out of it.
“Why do you look so confused?” he asks, his gaze tracking every micro-expression on my face.
“Because I thought—”
“That I was a selfish prick?”
I shrug, a small, sheepish smile forming. “Well, if we're being honest? Yes.”
He grins, a flash of something dark and indulgent. “When it comes to you, Aspen Corinthia Chidubem—”
My heart nearly stops. Did he really just use my full government name? Combined with his?
“With me, wife, you can have it all. Now, take off that fucking shirt and come back here.”
And I do. The shirt hits the floor before I even reach the edge of the rug.
“Since I can't exactly bend you over this sofa right now,” he says, his gaze dropping to the space between my legs, “do me the honors of standing over my face?”
“I... I’m sorry?”
This is officially beyond my pay grade. I had a boyfriend in college who tried to talk me into a sixty-nine once, and just the logistics of it made me so nervous I shut the whole thing down.
I am not okay.
I’m a “standard” sex kind of girl. Give me missionary or a little doggy style for variety, and I’m good. I can suck dick like a champ, but the moment I have to maneuver into awkward, acrobatic positions, I usually draw the line.
“I understand that you’re used to men who can’t handle your strength—or that smart-ass mouth of yours.”
“Seriously?” I ask, taking a step back on my heel. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”
“No,” he says, his voice a low, gravelly register. “As I was saying, I know you’re used to small men, the kind who use false bravado just to take from you. But all I’ve ever wanted was to give you everything, Aspen. Even when I thought ‘everything’ meant a life without me in it.”
“Luca—”
He holds up a hand, silencing me before I can spiral.
“Now, don’t get me wrong. I was a bloody idiot for letting you go.
But make no mistake—if you’re here, if you’re baring yourself to me like this, I’m going to own every inch of you.
But I’ll own you for your pleasure, not just mine.
I need to make you come. I need to hear you scream my name until you forget anyone else ever touched you.
I need to lick and suck your clit until I drown in your wetness. ”
“Need?” I repeat, panting.
“Need,” he confirms, his gaze unwavering. “You’re my wife, Aspen. The moment you said ‘I do,’ I became obligated to your pleasure.”
It feels like he’s proposing to me. But for real.
It’s as if, even though we’re married, he wants me to know that he is tied to me.
Attached. He wants me to feel his devotion, and I’d be lying if the look in his eyes and the sound of his voice didn’t say just that.
That he wants me. That he loves me. That he’s sorry.
I let out a shaky breath, my heart hammering. “Big talk, Chillmonger.”
His eyes darken instantly, his hand moving in a rhythmic, punishing jerk up and down his dick. “Aspen, enough. Stand on the sofa, spread your legs, and bring your cunt...your pussy...to my mouth.”
But we’re past the point of me just following orders. I’ve decided he’s my equal, so I meet his gaze, my own eyes darkening to match his. “Tell me you love me.”
“I fucking love you,” he growls, the words strained by the sheer effort of his restraint.
He strokes himself more and I see the moisture of his undoing. Dripping.
“Tell me you’re an asshole for letting me go,” I demand.
“I’m a massive asshole for letting you go, my love.”
“Tell me what you knew that first night in Vegas.”
“That I’d never be the same after I walked into that arcade with you,” he admits, his voice cracking with a raw, desperate honesty. “I fell in love with you then and there.”
A soft, involuntary “Aww” slips past my lips.
He lets out a low, tortured groan. “Bloody Hell. My love, please. Can I eat your pussy? Your husband is starving.”
The word pussy sounds like liquid sex rolling off his tongue. We’re definitely going to have to get him used to my brand of dirty talk, because the way he says it—with that posh, gravelly edge—makes me want to give him every single thing he asks for.
As I balance myself over his face, his flattened tongue begins to work me into another dimension.
“Luca! Shit! Oh, my…”
He doesn’t speak. I just feel his large hands spanning my thighs, spreading me wider as he licks me from end to end with a slow, agonizing thoroughness.
I shamelessly grip his head, anchoring myself as he licks and sucks my clit with an intensity I’ve never felt before. Beneath me, I don't miss the movement. Even as he’s licking me into the metaverse, he’s stroking himself mercilessly. And it’s driving me crazy.
Suddenly, he stops. I nearly shed a tear at the sudden coldness of the interruption.
“Look at yourself. Look at me,” he orders. It takes my brain a few seconds to process the command.
I look down at him, then I follow his gaze to the massive television screen on the wall, and my breath stalls.
There we are. High definition. Raw.
“I know you don’t like the idea of others watching you,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against my thighs. “But what about you watching…yourself?”
He dips his tongue and I watch as it disappears into my folds, blending with the concoction of pleasure.
“Or perhaps watching us?” He teases, before sucks me in some more.
He knows I like it. He can see the way my pupils dilate on the screen.
“Are you recording this?” I breathe.
“Not unless you want me to. I just thought you might like the view. Your body. Your curves. Your ass. Your breasts.”
To prove his point, he dips his head back into my center and tugs on my clit with his teeth. I watch it happen in real-time on the screen, the sight of his dark head between my thick thighs sending a fresh jolt of electricity straight to my toes.
“Luca. Fuck. This is—”
“And there’s so much more, my love. I want to show you everything.”
He fucks me with his tongue, over and over, and I find myself transfixed by the screen.
I watch the way his hand pumps his length, the rhythmic, carnal motion mirrored perfectly on the wall.
I watch my own expression fracture, my head tossing back, my hips rocking into his lips, my mouth parted in a silent scream.
The friction of his tongue combined with the raw, cinematic visual of our joined bodies creates a feedback loop of pure sensation. I’m trapped in the reflection, watching his jaw tighten with erotic intensity at the exact moment my back arches into a desperate bow.
On the screen, we are a vision of love and lust. Just as the tension reaches a breaking point, Luca looks up, his eyes finding mine in the digital glow. We lock gazes in the reflection, witnessing our total, shameless ruin.
“Shit! Aspen,” he says, stroking himself harder before he licks me deeper.
I rock into his tongue shamelessly and the sight of his surrender is what finally breaks me.
“Ahh! Luc—aah!”
We come apart together, an erotic explosion of sex and shadows mirrored back in high definition until we both sink, breathless and undone.
Luca doesn't give me a moment to recover. He reaches out, his fingers locking around my forearm with a proprietary grip, and pulls me down. I stumble forward until my knees are straddling his hips, my skin buzzing where it meets his.
“Now,” he whispers, his breath hot and smelling of salt and surrender against my lips. “Help your husband to bed. I want to show you exactly how I like you to ride my dick.”