Page 85 of Bad Little Bride

I understand in an instant and the heat in my groin doubles.

I lean over, pressing my hand to the edge of her mouth.

My wife, my gorgeous, elegant, graceful fucking girl…she spits. Right into my palm, her tongue sliding along the edge of my pinkie to give me every last bit she can.

My chest rumbles, and when I look down at my dick, precum leaks from the tip, but I hold back a moment, leaning up to press my lips to her ear. “Thank you, Little Bride. This is going to make it so much better for me.”

Her head turns, and my muscles lock.

She doesn’t say it, but she wants me to stay right here, where she can feel the heat of my breath, the anticipation of my mouth so fucking close to her skin. So that’s exactly what I do.

I grip my dick, fucking my palm with the help of her spit, and the sound that fills the space is enough to lock me up.

“Even your spit feels like fucking heaven, sliding along my cock, just like your tongue would.” I speak into her neck, and she tilts it wider for me.

“I want to move your panties to the side, slip inside you and ruin these seats, but I’ll settle for ruining the dress instead.”

I pump my cock fiercely, moaning into her skin but keeping the contact to nothing but the heat of my breath. The louder I get, the more she starts to fidget, and I know if I reached down, her thong would have a wet spot right where I want it to be.

The thought alone sends me over the edge.

“I’m gonna come now.” My dick throbs, my muscles clenching, and then I explode, thick white ropes squirting from the tip, right into my waiting fist. I use my free hand to release her wrists, and wait for her to tear the bandana from her face the same instant she’s freed.

She looks up, face so close to my own, she can’t peek down at my dick if she tried. Eyes on hers, I swipe my hands across her thighs, her neck, and then her cheeks before running them along the length of her dress as I ease them back down her thighs.

“I’ve marked you now.” I hold her gaze. “My cum is all over your skin. Smile at another man and the next time I come all over you…I will do it as he watches with chains around his body and a gun to his head. And then I’ll pull the trigger.”

With that, I climb out of the vehicle, sweeping a hand out to invite her to head inside first.

She blinks, then blinks again before shaking her head with a scoff. She darts from the vehicle, giving me a wide berth as she passes me, too afraid of what she might do if she let her body touch mine without being forced to keep those hands off me.

I do my best not to laugh at the jerky, pissy way she walks, knowing damn well she’s pent up and pent up good.

Boston rushes inside, past my men and into the foyer, down the hall until she reaches the stairs.

She stops there, hand on the railing, head yanking over her shoulder until her eyes collide with mine.

Anger and so much fucking more stare back at me, and then she starts to run, bare feet slapping against the steps, each little thump playing like the tick of a toy, cranking up and up and up until my cock stands at attention all over again, watching her flee like she can escape me.

She can’t.

She will never.

I wait until she’s a quarter of the way up, and then I give her what she has no idea she wants.

I give chase, catching her halfway and hooking my hand around her waist.

She grumbles, then gasps when I spin and shove her against the curved window not so gently.

Those gorgeous green eyes fly to mine, narrowing, but that anger melts to something else when I simply slip closer, leaving her two steps above me, so we’re nearly eye level.

My hand squeezes her hip, and she swallows, doing all she can to keep her glare firm, but the fervor between us is palpable.

I need to feed that flame.

I want it to rage around me, to suffocate in her heat and choke on the wildfire that is her.

I want to walk into her fucking inferno.

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