Chapter 19 Shelby
Shelby
Marcus is already waiting for us in front of the hotel, the town car’s rear door held open.
He doesn’t have a crystal ball or psychic powers.
I texted him on our way out of the fundraiser.
However, I admit Marcus has worked for my family long enough to recognize when a Boyle needs to disappear quickly.
I acknowledge him with a quick nod as I help Serena into the back seat, my hand splayed possessively across the small of her back. The golden silk of her gown whispers against my fingers, and I feel her shiver at my touch.
“Shut the partition,” I tell Marcus, my voice rough with barely contained need. Realizing the drive home is too short for what I have in mind, I add, “Drive around the city until I tell you otherwise.”
He doesn’t question my order. He never does. The partition slides up with a soft mechanical hum, sealing us in darkness broken only by the city lights streaming past the tinted windows.
Once the partition clicks into place, I pull Serena onto my lap. She comes willingly, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she straddles me. The haute-couture evening gown, a designer creation that she bought during the last edition of Fashion Week Paris, rides up her thighs as she settles against me.
I slide a hand under the soft fabric, trailing my fingers up the smooth expanse of her inner thigh. When I reach her center, I find exactly what I ordered her to wear. Or rather, what I ordered her not to wear.
Her sweet pussy is bare. I grin as I slide an index finger inside her. “So wet. Always ready for me.”
My fingers, on the other hand, brush against the base of the gold butt plug, and Serena squirms in my lap, her breath catching. I bought the sex toy specially for tonight. The plug has been inside her all evening, stretching her, preparing her for what’s to come.
“You’ve been such a good girl,” I murmur against her ear, running my nose along the column of her neck. I inhale deeply, drawing in the sweet aroma of her arousal mixed with that floral perfume I’ve grown addicted to. “Fuck, pet. I wish I could bottle your scent and carry it with me the whole day.”
“I’d love that, sir,” she moans, slipping effortlessly into our role-playing game.
The motherfucker Dom in me revels at how eagerly Serena jumps into my little scenarios.
I’ve been testing her since the wedding.
She’s passed all my tests with flying colors, without ever knowing she was being graded.
Whenever I call her ‘pet’, she immediately turns on an internal switch and complies.
I press my tongue over the throbbing vein at the base of her throat, feeling her pulse flutter wildly beneath my lips. A dark chuckle rumbles through my chest. “Then again,” I confess against her heated skin, “I wouldn’t be able to function.”
Serena responds by spreading open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, my neck, the shell of my ear. Each press of her lips sends my temperature spiking higher until it reaches the boiling point. Her hands work at my belt with an urgency that matches the fire building in my veins.
“Right back at you,” she breathes, finally freeing my aching cock from the confines of my tuxedo pants.
Her fingers wrap around me, cool against my heated flesh, and I hiss through my teeth at the contact.
She strokes me slowly, deliberately, her amber eyes gleaming with mischief in the passing streetlights. “What are you going to do about this?”
The challenge in her voice makes something primal stir in my chest. This woman, my wife, knows precisely how to push my buttons. She’s the perfect submissive one minute. Then, she pulls out a temptress attitude like this. She keeps me on my toes, and I fucking love it.
“Take the dress off,” I command, my voice dropping into that domineering register that makes her breath hitch.
She obeys without hesitation, pulling the gown over her head and pooling the shimmering thing on the limo floor.
It takes all my self-control as I watch her brown nipples harden under my stare.
“Feed me your tits,” I grunt the order, smothering a wicked smile at the way my dirty talk makes her breath hitch.
She sits up and cups her gorgeous breasts, bringing them to my lips. “Hold them there.”
I sink my teeth around a taut nipple, careful not to break her soft skin. I flick it with my tongue.
“Fuck, sir!” Serena moans and whimpers as I take my time.
I let go of her breast, holding her stare. “I will soon,” I promise before turning to the other breast and mirroring my actions.
I suck her until my cock begs for attention.
Pulling away from Serena, I order, “Reverse cowgirl. Now.”
She lifts herself off my lap and assumes the position, her back to me. The movement gives me a perfect view of her ass, the gold plug glinting in the dim light. I grip her hips, guiding her down onto my cock.
The sensation nearly undoes me.
She’s impossibly tight now. The plug is taking up space, making her pussy grip me like a velvet fist. Serena moans, her head falling back as I fill her completely.
“Lean back,” I instruct, wrapping one arm around her waist while my other hand comes up to cup her throat. Not squeezing—just holding. Claiming. “Rest your head on my shoulder and enjoy the ride, pet.”
She melts against me, her body pliant and trusting as I begin to move.
The city lights paint abstract patterns on her sweat-covered skin as Marcus navigates the streets of Boston.
Outside, people go about their everyday lives, completely unaware that inches away, I’m buried inside my wife, claiming her in the back of a town car like a man possessed.
Because that’s exactly what I’m becoming. Each day I’m deeper into Serena’s spell. I crave her presence when she isn’t near me. I long for the sweet surrender she gifts me every time we fuck.
I set a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each thrust pushes against her G-spot. Each swirl of her hips moves the plug inside her ass. Serena’s moans grow louder, more desperate. I grunt, my hands guiding her body up and down my length. Her fingers dig into my thighs as she surrenders to the sensations.
“That’s it. I’m almost there, too,” I whisper against her ear. “Take what I give you. Come for me.”
My ears ring with the buzzing of adrenaline and the ecstasy wails coming out of my wife’s mouth.
I nudge her to move onto the leather seat.
She obeys. On her hands and knees, Serena is a vision.
I hold her tiny waist and thrust back inside her.
I move a hand to the back of her neck, pushing her gently down until her forehead rests on the leather.
Her chest is heaving, and her eyes are glazed.
Her pussy trembles around my erection with multiple aftershocks.
I sink my fingers in the headrest for a final push. With a primal growl, I unload my cock deep inside her.
“Fuck!” Serena grunts as my hot semen triggers new waves in her tight body.
Sitting down and pulling her back onto my lap, I press the intercom. “Take us home, Marcus.”
I kiss Serena’s shoulder and smooth her back with a splayed hand. “Good girl.”
By the time the limo finally pulls into the underground garage of my building, I’ve helped Serena pull her gown over her head. And I’ve straightened my clothes the best I could.
Before Marcus opens the door, I press a possessive kiss to her swollen lips. “We’re not done yet,” I promise. “Not even close.”
We barely make it through the penthouse door before my hands are on her again.
The master bedroom is bathed in soft ambient light. The California king-size bed dominates the space, but it’s not where I’m taking her. Not yet.
In the corner of the room, near the floor-to-ceiling windows, hangs the sex swing I had one of my lieutenants install while we were at the Syndicate gala. The black leather straps dangle from the chrome hardware. I designed it for exactly this moment.
Serena’s eyes widen when she sees it. “Shelby...”
“Trust me,” I say, already unzipping her gown.
The golden silk pools at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her heels and the gold plug.
She’s so fucking hot. Her olive skin and curves gleam under the soft lighting.
But it’s the trust in her expression that warms my chest. “Your safeword?” I double-check.
“Red,” she breathes.
“Good girl.” I swat her perfect ass.
She moans, making my cock stir, already half-hard.
I guide her to the swing, helping her into the contraption. The straps support her weight, positioning her at the perfect height, her legs spread wide and her ass exposed. “Tonight, I’m claiming the last part of you that’s still untouched.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t look away. Those amber eyes, flecked with gold, burn me with her hunger. They also hold mine with unwavering confidence.
“I want you to,” she whispers. “I’ve wanted this for years.”
The admission nearly breaks my control, reminding me that she’s been fantasizing about us for as long as I’ve craved her in secret.
I strip off my jacket, my shirt, my pants.
I leave my clothes scattered across the floor like casualties of war.
Then I stand between her spread thighs. I wrap my fingers around my erection, pumping it, making it harder. Her eyes follow my every move.
I pull a string, lifting her body higher until her pussy is in my line of vision. “The more relaxed you are, the less this will hurt.”
Before she can process my meaning, I cover her still trembling flesh with my lips. With one hand, I keep fisting myself while I pull her hard clit into my mouth and suck hard.
She thrashes against the restraints holding her in the air as wave after wave of liquid pleasure flood my mouth. “Hmm, you’re so fucking delicious,” I mutter inside her pussy because it’s the absolute truth.
“Shelby! Sir! Please,” she begs, as another orgasm makes her quiver from head to toes.