Chapter 37
Chapter thirty-seven
Trey
Earned It – The Weeknd
The morning light slips through the curtains, soft and gold, crawling across the bed until it finds her.
Sera is tangled in the sheets, wearing nothing but my t-shirt—the one that hangs off her shoulder and barely covers her hips. Her hair’s a mess of red fire spilling across my pillow. She looks like decadent sin wrapped in sunlight.
I shift onto my side, sliding a hand down the curve of her waist. Her skin’s warm beneath my fingers, impossibly soft. The shirt’s ridden up high, exposing miles of bare thigh, and when she stirs, pressing herself back into me, my breath catches.
“Morning, Dove,” I murmur against her neck, my voice still rough with sleep.
She hums, sleepy, smiling without opening her eyes.
“Mm…morning.”
I brush her hair aside, pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder. Her breath hitches, the tiniest sound, but enough to spark the fuse inside me.
“You always plan on torturing me this early?” I whisper.
She laughs softly, that sleepy kind of laugh that makes my chest ache.
“You’re the one touching me.”
“Yeah, well,” I drag my fingers higher, skimming the hem of the shirt, “hard not to when you look like that.”
She turns slightly, half-awake now, eyes still hazy.
“Like what?”
“Like the only thing I’ve ever gotten right.”
Her blush spreads fast—that shy-wild mix that kills me every time. I lean in, my lips barely brushing hers.
“Hungry?” She laughs, eyes molten fire as my mouth ghosts over her jaw.
I grin, teeth grazing her skin, as I flip her onto her back.
“A man’s gotta have breakfast, baby.” I roll on top of her, taking her hands and pinning them above her head.
“But I’ll let you choose.” I lick, kiss and nip a path across her skin, hip to hip.
“You can have my cock, my fingers or my tongue.” She arches into me, rocking her hips up to mine.
“And what if I want all of them?” She breathes, voice breathless.
“Then I’ll have a feast and fuck my wife until she’s screaming my name.”
Sera groans. Fucking groans.
“Then what are you waiting for?” Her thighs drop open, her cheeks flush as her breathing speeds up.
“Then let me hear you, baby.” I run a finger straight down her soaking wet pussy, “I want to see you making a fucking mess out of me.”
I slide my hands to her hips and pull her forward.
I take a second just to look at her—flushed and open, spread out for me like the sweetest fucking offering.
The first lick of my tongue draws the sexiest whimper from her lips that shoots straight to my cock.
Her back bows, offering more. I take my time.
I want to feel everything—every gasp, every breathless moan, every plea she makes.
I want it branded into me. She arches, mouth parted, breath hitching when I suck her clit into my mouth, her body already trembling, already begging for me.
I drag my tongue over her pussy, hard then fast, before pushing it inside her as far as it will go.
Like she’s mine to consume—every inch I am starving to commit.
She lifts her hips, desperate, but I hold her steady, a hand splayed across her thigh.
“Trey,” she breathes, raw and undone. I remove my tongue, pushing a finger inside, then two, her pussy wanting, needing to clench around something.
“God, baby, you’re fucking beautiful. You gonna give me what I want and make a mess out of me?”
“Yes!” she cries out, louder than expected. “Please, Trey. I need you inside me.”
“Such a good girl, swollen and wet. You’re making a mess out of my fingers already.
” My fingers circle her needy clit. Her body trembling with sensation overload.
God, I love seeing her out of control. Her eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back into the pillows.
Moving my fingers faster, I plunge my tongue inside her pussy, swirling the end around her tight walls.
Her juices coat my jaw and mouth. Her moans echoing around the room.
Breathy and sweet. I know she’s close by the way she’s grinding against my face.
Just when she’s about to explode I slap her pussy, and she screams. Music to my fucking ears.
Holy fuck. Sera trembles, her eyes shooting open.
Breakfast of champions…
“Oh my god. Did I… Did I—”
“You squirted, baby.” I say licking my fingers.
“You made a mess, just like you promised.” I grip my rock-hard cock, “And it was the single, sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
” I nudge my cock inside, her walls clamping down around me.
“You ready for me to fuck you, baby. It’s gonna be hard and fast.”
“Yes,” she breathes, eyes fixed on me. On my face.
On the mess she made. I push deep, both of us groaning.
I feel the little bumps from my piercings against her tight walls and she almost levitates, before I pull her up and flip her, pushing her upper body down so her ass is in the air.
I hold her up, lifting a hand I slap her ass once, hard, before I push back inside, fisting her hair and winding it around my fingers.
Jesus Christ. She’s so fucking tight. I slam my hips against hers, her pussy so wet the sounds echo around the room. She lets out a muffled groan, and shudders.
She’s close to coming again.
She’s so fucking hot.
“Say you’ll never leave me, baby. Say you’ll always be mine.” I groan, losing myself, my assault fast and hard.
“I’ll. Never. Leave. you.” She says gasping, my pierced cock grinding, finding more purchase as her pussy tries to milk me.
Fuck, I can feel my balls tightening.
“I’ll. Always. Be. yours. Just. Don’t. Stop.” She screams. Just as I’m about to cum, I sink my teeth into her shoulder, hard enough to bruise, but not hard enough to break her perfect skin. She shatters around my cock.
“Treyyyy!” She screams again, before going boneless.
I swing her around and lift her on my thighs, before I continue thrusting into her.
Her head rests on my mine, as her body trembles, my hand snakes up to her throat while I whisper into her ear what a good girl she is, as I flood her with my cum.
I ease slowly out of her, resting her back on bed as she shivers, her breathing almost making her sound cold, before falling at her side.
She turns her body to me, pupils blown wide, before fisting my hair and slamming her lips to mine.
She laughs shakily, fucking laughs, against my lips. As she pulls back, I search her face.
“That was one hell of a way to wake up.” I laugh with her, because I think, no, I know, I’ve caused my wife to crave me just as deeply as I crave her.
“Do you think the others heard?”
“Nah…”
The whole damn house a hundred and ten percent heard—probably the patrolling guards too. But I’m not about to embarrass my beautiful wife. Or stop her from screaming just as loud tomorrow.
The house hums with energy—music thumping from the speakers, laughter bouncing off the walls, the faint bite of hairspray hanging in the air. Half-drunk coffees clutter the counter, cords snake across the floor, and the rhythm of our pre-show chaos is in full swing.
Logan’s pacing the hallway, cursing at a cufflink that won’t cooperate.
Mac is perched on the arm of the sofa while a stylist works on her curls.
Sam’s arguing with the makeup artist about “not needing powder,” and Chace—half-dressed—is tearing apart the living room looking for guitar picks that probably don’t exist.
I’m in the bathroom, shirt hanging open, tattoos on full display, watching Seraphina in the mirror.
She’s seated on the vanity stool, her reflection catching mine as the stylist finishes the last curl of her hair. Black leather trousers hug her legs, a silky champagne top draping like liquid light across her shoulders. Simple, effortless and entirely devastating.
“Stop staring,” she teases, her mouth curving into that quiet, knowing smile.
“Not my fault,” I murmur, stepping closer. “You’re the only thing worth looking at.”
The stylist clears her throat delicately, pretending she didn’t hear that. Sera’s smile widens, but her gaze doesn’t waver.
When the woman steps away to grab a brush, I take my chance. My hands slide down Sera’s shoulders, fingertips tracing the soft line of skin at her collarbone. I lean in, brushing a kiss beneath her ear, breathing her in.
“Trey,” she warns softly, though her breath betrays her.
“Relax, Dove,” I whisper, my lips grazing her skin. “Just making sure you’re camera-ready.”
A quiet laugh trembles through her. She tilts her head slightly, just enough for our noses to almost touch.
“You’re impossible.”
“Mm.” I steal a kiss, quick but deep enough to leave a promise behind. “You love it.”
A knock hits the door. “You two done flirting, or should we give you five more minutes?” Logan’s grin carries straight through the wood.
“Make it ten,” I call back.
“Yeah, not happening,” he shoots, laughing as his footsteps fade down the hall. “We leave in twenty.”
Sera shakes her head, standing as the stylist declares her finished. I reach for my black blazer, sliding it on over my half-buttoned shirt. Sera steps in front of me, fixing the collar, smoothing a wrinkle with delicate precision. Her fingers linger just above my heart.
“You look unfair,” she murmurs, her voice warm and low.
“So do you,” I answer, meaning every word.
She’s almost ready—almost perfect—standing by the edge of the bed, light slipping across her skin in ribbons of gold from the window. I pause before we leave, something tugging at me.
“You need jewelry,” I say, moving toward the dresser.
Sera glances up, brow furrowed as I pull open the top drawer. My fingers brush velvet until I find the small black box I’d bought weeks ago. I flip the lid open and the room seems to shift with the glint of what’s inside.