Chapter 42 #2
Before I can contemplate it further, the double doors close, and Apollo slams his lips to mine in a crushing kiss.
He moves quickly, pinning me to the back of the hotel elevator as our tongues clash.
My head spins at the intensity of his action, stomach bursting with flutters.
His taste is addictive and his smell…fuck, I want to lick his scent straight from his neck.
His thigh forces my legs to spread as wide as they can, pressing against my sex through my dress.
A moan rips out of my throat, vibrating against his lips as my nerves prickle with attention.
I fumble with my hands, grabbing his tux jacket to keep myself upright.
I wasn’t expecting him to defile me in an elevator, but right now, I’d let him do anything he wanted to.
Ding.
The doors glide open, and Apollo drags his mouth off of mine, breathing hard. “How much do you like this dress, micina?”
“I’m pretty fond of it,” I rasp, panting. “Why?”
“Because if I can’t get it off of you in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to cut it off.” His response makes me shiver, and I wonder how much I would mind if he ruined my gown.
Hands surrounding my waist, he holds me as he walks backwards, guiding me into a room. A penthouse, I assume, since the elevator took us straight up. That, or it must be an exclusive room with private elevator access.
“You better unzip me, then,” I tell him, spinning around and pulling my hair over my shoulder. “I feel similarly about your tux, but I don’t know that you should trust me to cut you out of it. My hands are a bit shaky right now.”
“Feeling nervous?” he asks, fingers pinching my zipper. He pulls it down swiftly, loosening the fabric until it falls. “Oh, fuck, baby. Did you wear this under your dress all day for me?”
I blush heatedly, turning on my heels to face him. The white lingerie set is the most obscene thing I own, bought especially for our wedding night. The skimpy lace bra and panty set is complete with a matching garter belt.
“Brides are supposed to wear garters, aren’t they?”
“Bedroom,” Apollo husks, lifting me up. “Kick off your shoes.”
He doesn’t need to tell me twice, my short heels falling to the tile floor as he walks us further into the hotel room.
“Have you stayed here before?” I ask, eyes scanning everything that I can as he navigates the space.
“No, it just opened last month. It’s one of Armani’s latest projects. This room has never been touched before, it’s his wedding gift to us.”
“He saved a whole penthouse for us for a gift?”
“It’s a presidential suite,” Apollo corrects, almost chuckling. “Penthouses are apartments, love.”
“Tomato, tomahto.”
A squeak flies out of me as I’m tossed on my back, bouncing into a plush bed. The blankets feel like silk under my skin.
“Don’t ever change, Rayna Moretti.”
Warmth swoops in the center of my stomach, hearing my new name. I sit up on my elbows to watch him, licking my lips with excitement.
“Get your clothes off, Apollo Moretti.”
In record time, his tux is off and on the floor, only a pair of tight boxer briefs remaining on his frame. He’s so fucking toned and rippled with stunning muscles all over. His tan skin only helps to define them more.
He’s a goddamned adonis.
And he’s all mine.
“I like that look in your eyes, my feral little moglie.”
“That’s a new one,” I say breathlessly. “Have I outgrown micina?”
“Never,” he replies, knees hitting the edge of the bed as he starts to prowl toward me. “Moglie means wife.”
“Oh.” I swallow. “I like that.”
He’s hovering above me, hands on either side of my arms as he leans down, lips ghosting over mine. “Good.”
He kisses me just as hard and as urgently as he did on the way up here, devouring my mouth like a man possessed.
Chills pebble up my arms, and my butt wiggles into the mattress, sliding myself down to get closer while we make out.
My thighs lift up on either side of his hips, squeezing tight.
Fingers latching around his thick shoulders, my nails dig into his muscular skin.
“I need you,” I whimper, hips lifting to roll my center against his obvious erection. “I need you inside me, I can’t wait anymore.”
“You don’t want my tongue?” he asks, peppering my jaw with kisses and teasing the side of my neck with his teeth. My head shakes, swaying side to side and he rumbles with a hum. “But you love it when I fuck you with my mouth, baby. Are you sure you want to skip it?”
“Later,” I insist, growing more needy by the second. “I’m so wet already, Apollo. I just want your cock.”
He groans, tongue dragging up the front of my throat. He presses a swift kiss to my lips and sits back on his heels. “Whatever you want, love.”
Watching him shed his boxers sends a hot rush of arousal straight to my clit that has me clenching around air.
His cock is solid and thick, his tip shining with a pearl of pre-cum.
I’ve become undeniably familiar with his slightly curved length and everything it can do.
So now, just the sight of it makes me burn with desire.
Until Apollo, I never found dicks to be particularly appealing.
They could be odd looking, and even make me cringe.
But apparently, everything about Apollo Moretti gets me going.
I can’t even pretend that he’s not a perfect sexual specimen.
It’s like he was made in a computer that designed him to ignite me specifically.
My panties are nudged to the side by his skilled fingers, and I watch his eyes flare at what he finds.
“You’re fucking dripping, Rayna. Is this all for me, baby?”
“Yes,” I croak, buzzing as his thumb lightly swirls around my slick clit.
“You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you? You’re so sweet when you’re horny for me, and you haven’t yelled at me at all today.”
“Apollo, please—”
“Please,” he echoes with a groan. Grabbing his cock by the base, he flicks his wrist, slapping the head against my pussy. “So polite when you want to get fucked so hard, aren’t you?”
“I need it,” I plead, head going fuzzy.
“Take your tits out,” he demands, nodding to my bra. “I want to see them bounce when I push inside of you.”
I obey immediately, tugging the top of my bra down and under the bottom of my breasts. My nipples pebble into stiff peaks at the brush of air meeting them, going taut as Apollo feasts his eyes on my bare flesh.
“Perfect,” he mutters, lining himself up at my core. “My perfect moglie.”
Apollo steals the breath from my lungs as he thrusts forward, burying his whole length inside of me in one go. His cock is so hot, heating up my already boiling sex as my walls stretch to accommodate him.
“F-fuck,” I whimper, head dropping back in a long moan.
“This what you needed, love?”
Thrust.
“Just like this?”
Thrust, thrust.
“Yesss,” I cry out in a hiss.
“Brace yourself, baby,” he warns. And in a blink, he’s moving faster.
Apollo sets a brutal pace, hooking my legs under his forearms by my thighs, fucking me just like I requested. Just like I need.
My legs fall apart wider to accommodate his hips as they grind forward, trying to sink into the back of my cunt with every push. He’s trying to kill me, I think. Attempting to screw me into oblivion and it’s working. I’m losing my mind, too drunk on pleasure to focus. He’s fucking wrecking me.
“Oh God, please don’t stop. Never stop,” I babble, moaning almost incoherently. My tits jump up and down, swaying hard as he rocks into me. “Feelssofuckinggood.”
“I’m putting an heir into you tonight, Rayna,” he growls, pumping hard and deep. “I’m going to fill you over and over again, and you’re still going to beg for more. Look at you, taking it so fucking well. My perfect, greedy wife.”
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I chant, a ripple of ecstasy rolling through me. We’ve only just begun and an orgasm is already building fast. The pleasure is growing too rapidly to stop. I feel myself throb, and—Holy shit! I cry out in a mewl, hands fisting the sheets so hard that my fingers feel numb.
“I think I just,” I gasp, losing my breath.
“You did,” Apollo groans, not slowing down his efforts in the slightest. “You squeeze me so fucking good when you come, baby. Do you feel how much I appreciate it, hmm?” He leans down, sucking a nipple between his lips, and twirls his tongue around it.
“Uh-huh,” I slur, nodding with a dazed feeling. Sweat beads at the back of my neck, and every part of me feels feverish.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you’re like this,” Apollo grunts, switching to my other breast. “So intoxicated in your pleasure, it drives me mad. Give me another, micina. Come for me again. Say my name this time.”
He called me pretty. I shiver. He’s hardly giving me a choice to follow his instructions as he begins to toy with my clit, his cock slipping in and out of me with the same punishing rhythm.
“I want you to come too,” I whimper in a plea, attempting to roll my hips down to meet his next thrust. “Please? I need you to fill me up like you said you would, Apollo. I love how it feels when you do that.”
His eyes darken, snapping up to meet mine. “Yeah? Is that how it is, love? You want me to flood this perfect little pussy with cum, huh?”
My head bobs, lips parting to let out a whine. “I need it so bad.”
My husband groans, rocking his hips back slowly to slam back in harder. “Say it again. Tell me how you want your pretty little cunt stuffed full. Tell me that you fucking love it, go on.”
His voice, God. I would marry him all over again just to keep hearing his voice spew filthy fucking words to me.
“Yes, I love it, I promise,” I rush out, feeling my overly sensitive clit start to almost burn as he continues to play with it. “Ahhh, Apollo, please. Please come in me. I want you to knock me up so badly.”
Jesus. I can’t believe I just said that.