Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“What about the guests?” she asks.
“Let them enjoy the night,” I mutter.
I pull her into the elevator and growl at the fucking fabric of her dress when we struggle to get it all into the small space.
“You’re so impatient,” she chuckles.
“You have no fucking idea.”
I lift my hands to her face and keep her in place as I claim her mouth.
I fucking devour my wife as we ride to the third floor, and when the doors open, I don’t stop, and we stumble into the hallway.
We somehow make it across the landing before I break the kiss and unfasten my belt.
“On your knees, my little spitfire.”
She sinks down and helps me unbutton my pants. When she pulls the zipper down, I free my cock, and order, “Open your mouth.”
When her lips part, I step forward. The moment I feel her mouth wrap around my cock, I grab hold of her hair.
“Take me deep.”
Her cheeks hollow out as she sucks me into her mouth, and feeling her tongue brush against the side of my cock, my legs go a little numb from how good it feels.
“It’s the first time a woman has her mouth on my cock,” I tell her.
Gabriella grabs hold of my ass and starts to suck as if her fucking life depends on it, a possessive light in her eyes.
“Christ,” I grind the word out through clenched teeth as I watch my wife rock my fucking world.
When I thrust too deep, she gags and tears jump to her eyes. The sight is downright erotic, and within seconds, I come.
Pleasure zips through my body like a current of electricity, and Gabriella swallows every drop of my cum.
I pull out of her mouth, and grabbing hold of her, I haul her over my shoulder. I shove the fabric of her dress out of my face and carry her into my bedroom, only pausing a second to kick the door shut behind us.
Throwing Gabriella onto the bed, I mutter, “How the fuck do I get you out of this dress?”
Laughter bursts from her, and sitting up, she turns her back to me. “Help me with the zipper.”
I pull it down, and then it’s surprisingly easy as Gabriella shoves the dress down her body, exposing white lace lingerie that makes her look like a porn star.
“Jesus Christ, you are so fucking sexy,” I say as I pull the bowtie loose from my neck. While I undress, my eyes drink in the sight of my wife as she lies down on the bed.
She watches me with hooded eyes, and when I’m naked, she murmurs, “You’re so handsome. I’ll never get tired of looking at you.”
Taking hold of her legs, I yank her to the edge of the bed, and leaning over her, I bite her nipple through the lace.
“Are you fond of the lingerie?”
“No, I got it for you.”
“Good,” I mutter as I take hold of the lace, and without much effort, I rip it open so I can get to her skin. I drop kisses all over her breasts, and it only makes my desire for her burn hotter through my veins.
I yank the lace off her, and aligning my cock with her soaked pussy, I enter her in one hard thrust.
“Christ, your pussy is getting used to taking all of my cock,” I groan as I grip hold of her hips, and then I fuck my wife until she’s crying my name as she comes apart for me.
When I slump over her, I gasp for air, my heart thundering in my chest.
Pleasure spasms through my body while I look deep into her eyes where I see my entire future.
Chapter 33
Gabriella
While Martha carries the clothes between my old suite and Damiano’s room, Aunt Greta helps me pack everything into my side of the closet.
Aunt Aida’s sitting on a chair we brought into the room for her, keeping us company.
“Did you enjoy the wedding before Damiano dragged you away?” Aunt Aida asks.
“Yes.” I let out a chuckle. “Thank you for everything you did to make it a perfect wedding, Aunt Greta.”
“You’re welcome, cara.”
“Oh, I just remembered,” Aunt Aida says. “You can call me mamma or mom. Whichever you prefer.”
I stop what I’m doing and drop the hanger on the floor.
“Really?”
When she nods, I rush to her, and leaning down, I wrap her up in a hug. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” she chuckles as she pats my back. “We’re family now.”
Letting go of her, I get back to work.
Damiano comes into the closet, then glances over the clothes. “Is it all going to fit?”
“Yes.” I shoot him a smile. “I’ll make it fit.”
“You can always leave your summer clothes in the other bedroom and just change it every season,” Aunt Greta mentions.
“That’s too much work,” I reply.
Damiano’s phone starts ringing, and I watch as he takes the call.