Chapter 21 #2
I don’t waste a second. I lift her up, gently setting her on the edge of the pool. Her legs open, and I’m treated to the mouthwatering sight of my wife’s bare pink pussy, all wet and glistening and inviting.
I’m trembling as I caress her inner thighs, urging them wider.
I don’t even wait for her to say anything else.
I bring my mouth to her cunt and feast. The taste of her floods me.
So fucking good. I do everything I can, a man possessed, sucking her clit, fucking her with my tongue.
She says my name, a curse and a plea in one, and I guide her legs over my shoulders, pulling her more firmly against me.
I eat her pussy like this is the last meal I’ll have on earth. And if it were to be, I’d die a happy fucking man. I’m drunk on her, lost to everything else, and I love her demanding cunt on my face. I want to give her so much pleasure that she forgets to think about all the rest.
I find a place that seems to make her lose all control when I apply extra pressure and suck at the same time. Luna comes three times. Every time, I leave her clit to lap her up, and fuck does she taste good.
By the time I earn a fourth orgasm by fucking her with my fingers and sucking hard on her clit, I’m done.
I surge from the water alongside her and then scoop her up into my arms. My cock is raging and we’re both naked and dripping, but I don’t give a shit.
If I don’t have her in my bed and I’m not deep inside her in the next five minutes, I’ll spontaneously combust.
Predictably, Luna squawks in protest, her hands fluttering to my shoulders like butterflies. “Priest! What are you doing?”
Slowly, and with as much calm as I can manage because I don’t want to slip on the tile and break both our necks, I stride toward the door. “I’m taking you to bed.”
“I’m naked!” she squeals. “And so are you.”
I don’t give a damn. The only thing I care about is fucking her. Everything else can wait until afterward. I keep going, a man on a mission.
“So?” I ask, shouldering through the heavy door of the pool room.
“So, your brother is here,” she says, lowering her voice an octave even as her alarm continues to radiate through her words. “I don’t want him to see us like this.”
“Let him,” I say, uncaring.
It wouldn’t hurt for Saint to witness this and be reminded that Luna is my wife. My woman. That if he needs a fuck buddy, he’s going to have to look somewhere else if he wants to continue to live.
“I’m naked,” she continues, sounding scandalized.
“I don’t see the problem. If Saint comes out of his room and sees you, I’ll cut out his eyes. If he doesn’t, all good.”
She stiffens in my arms. “Priest.”
I meet her gaze for a second as I pass through the kitchen on slippery, wet feet, trying not to pay attention to the cool air kissing my dick as I go. “What?”
“You’re not going to cut out his eyes.”
“Not as long as he stays where he belongs.”
We’re finally at our bedroom. I elbow my way in, still holding Luna in my arms, and have the vague impression of the nightstand on my side of the bed being out of place. I’m instantly on guard, my whole body tensing in preparation for a potential ambush.
I set Luna down on her bare feet.
This may be a safe house, but the nature of our business means that we need to come and go.
We need to exist in the outside world, and we need to trust a small set of people in our employ to know this place exists.
There’s always the minute possibility that someone will go rogue.
It’s never far from my mind, despite how much confidence I have in my men.
“What happened there?” I demand sharply.
“It was me,” Luna admits quietly, quelling my fears.
“You?” I look back at her, trying to understand why she suddenly had a hankering to rearrange the furniture.
Color creeps over her high cheekbones. “Yes, me. I was trying to keep you out of the room, but then you never came anyway. And I had to come looking for you, because I thought you and Saint had left me here by myself, and it scared me?—”
I kiss her to cut off the rest of what she’s about to say, because the truth is that while I didn’t leave her alone tonight, I am going to leave her alone tomorrow. But that’s a subject for another day, and one I’m not going to bring up while my wife is naked and ready to be fucked.
“Get on the bed,” I tell her when we come up for air.
She doesn’t do what I ask, lingering, nibbling at her lip like there’s something she wants to say.
“What is it, baby?”
She releases her lip. “I’m not on birth control.”
This is not what I expected to hear, and for a second, I think she’s trying to deflect me.
“Fuck,” I grind out. “That is bullshit. You’re on the shot.”
I know this about her. From the moment Tomasso suggested the alliance, I’ve been doing my due diligence. My men have worked overtime, digging up all the dirt there is to be found on Luna Revello.
Not very fucking much, as it happens. And now, I wonder if the little they found was even accurate.
“I was on the shot,” she says quietly. “But it was giving me headaches, and I wasn’t with anyone, so I decided to let it slip.”
“What the fuck?” I feel like I’ve been hit with an anvil. I’ve just barely wrapped my head around the idea of having a wife. I can’t even begin to comprehend fatherhood, the ramifications. “Jesus, shit, fuck. Why didn’t you say something, Luna?”
I would have gotten pills. A shot. Condoms. Any fucking thing.
She’s my wife, and the thought of not going bare inside her had felt wrong. Truth be told, it had felt far too fucking good, deep inside that hot, tight, wet pussy without a barrier. But I didn’t realize she wasn’t on birth control anymore when I pumped her full of my come.
“I…I’m sorry,” she says, looking lost. “You overwhelm me. This situation overwhelms me. Everything has been so crazy. It was just… I didn’t want to continue my shots because I realized I was having some adverse side effects, but I never imagined that I…
that you… this would happen. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Obviously.”
“I’ll pull out,” I decide, even though the thought of not coming inside her feels wrong.
I’ll do it. For her, for me, for our future.
I don’t think we’re ready for kids. Jesus, we can barely keep it together ourselves.
Everything is so new, so volatile. But I want this to work.
I want Luna as my wife. I just don’t want to bring a kid into this equation until the time feels right.
My parents did the opposite, having a boatload of kids without a plan or a thought for what would happen if it all went to hell.
“Is that…my OB/GYN says that’s not a valid method,” Luna says weakly.
“It’s only not a valid method if the guy comes too soon,” I reassure her. “I can control myself.”
She eyes me warily. “That’s not what she made it sound like.”
“Respectfully, fuck her.”
“Priest.”
“Luna.” I press my forehead to hers, need for this woman swelling inside me, so big that it eclipses me. I’m not even myself anymore. I’m me with her.
Fuck.
This is heavy stuff.
Maybe all the blood has rushed to my dick and balls.
“You can’t come inside me this time,” she whispers.
And my dick is instantly upright, ready for more. Because I don’t care where I come, as long as she’s the reason I did.
I kiss her. “I’ll come on you, baby. Would you like that? I’ll fuck you until we’re both almost ready, and then I’ll withdraw and fuck these beautiful tits. I’ll coat them in come.”
Her lower lip falls another fraction, her pupils dilating. I know I have her.
“Get on the bed for me, amore mio . Let me worship you the way you deserve, and I promise I won’t put a baby in you.”
She whimpers, and I have to force my dick into submission. Clearly, I’m a fucking Neanderthal, because the thought of filling her with my come and giving her a baby makes me so hard that I have to grind my molars and think about something else for a solid fifteen seconds.
Luna gets on the bed.
Fuck.
She looks beautiful there and perfect. So damn perfect.
I move closer.
“Open your legs. Let me see that wet pussy.”
Holding my gaze, she slowly slides her legs apart, revealing herself to me.
“Damn, you’re a fucking dream.”
I climb onto the bed. And even though I’ve licked her pussy thoroughly already, I stop and worship her there. I give her my tongue, my fingers, suck her clit until she’s writhing and screaming my name.
And only then do I move, aligning our bodies so that my hard dick is prodding her entrance, her wetness dripping onto my leaking cock. I kiss her slowly, feeding her the taste of herself on my tongue.
After a few minutes of kissing each other senseless, I break it off. I sink two fingers inside her, and her pussy walls tighten. While she’s still coming, I withdraw and grab my aching cock, ramming it deep.
Her body arches up to meet me. We’re hip bone to hip bone, breast to chest, nose to nose.
Holding her stare, I fuck her slowly, intimately.
I drink in her breaths and look into her eyes and make sure there’s no question about what’s happening between us.
We both want it. Want each other. And when her cunt contracts so deliciously on mine, I withdraw instead of reveling in the spasms milking my cock.
I wrap a hand around myself and shoot jets of come all over her pussy, belly, and tits until she’s covered in me.
“Mine,” I tell her, rubbing myself into her skin. “Never forget it, Luna.”
“If I’m yours, then you’re mine,” she murmurs.
And I’ve never heard anything better.
Even if she won’t mean it later, when the postcoital bliss wears off.
Because, like it or not, Luna Andriani belongs to me.
And she always will.