Page 16 of Shameless in Vegas

“Something more effective,” I answer dismissively, freeing his cock with both hands and giving him a long, firm stroke. “I don’t want anything between us,cariño.”

Heat remains in his gaze, but the soft tug at the corner of his lips is enamored beyond words. He’s going to fall truly, madly, deeply, hopelessly in love with me, and I’m still going to have to kill him.

I can’t allow myself to be distracted by how wrong that still seems right now.

“Nothing ever will be, baby doll,” he says, letting his head fall backward to rest on the back of the loveseat while still holding my gaze. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

I should acknowledge it in some way, but I can’t. I lift up on my knees to guide the thick, blunt head of his cock to my slick entrance and sink him to my depths. A mirrored breath hitches from both of us, and he reaches to thread his fingers through my hair, pulling my mouth to his as we grind against each other.

Two or three strokes later, Joaquin’s thrusting grows frantic and he rips his mouth from mine to press our foreheads together. “Christ, you are fuckingincredible.”

Sans condom, it’s even better than before, and I can’t stop myself from gripping his hairhardand jerking his face to my neck. “Yes… dámelo más duro.”

Give it to me harder.

After everything I’ve had to endure, I fucking deserve this.

And Joaquin doesn’t disappoint.

His fingers dig into the flesh of my hips hard enough to bruise my skin, and he slams my thighs against his hips. The delicious pressure starts to build, and moans are working their way up my throat. He throws his head forward to suck one nipple into his mouth and then bears down with his teeth, and Ishatter.

He pumps aggressively, and I feel his cock thicken inside of me, and a guttural groan drains from him as he squeezes me like a vise against him. The tell-tale twitch and shudder of his length causes me to mewl and whimper as he fills me with hot seed that will fall on barren soil.

Joaquin’s head drops forward, landing on the crook of my neck. His well-tailored Oxford shirt strains at its seams as the hulking muscles of his shoulders and back flex and release with each deep breath he takes. My own muscles are completely spent, and I let my neck relax, lowering my face to rest my cheek on the top of his head.

After several moments of silence spliced with deep breathing, Joaquin chuckles against my skin and kisses my neck.

“I fuckinglovebeing married.”

I arch one eyebrow at the far wall behind his back.

You say that now, you poor, sweet, oblivious man.

Stroking his hair back with my nails, I match his enamored laugh. “Me, too,cariño.Me, too.”

FIVE

JOAQUIN

IN PITCH DARKNESS AND the haze of being half asleep, my arm slides across the sheet, searching for the warm, supple body of my wife. It’s only night number three of Natalia being here with me—night number five of us being married—and I’ve already grown accustomed to sharing my bed. I’ve grown toreallylike it. So much that, despite the rage from my father that will surely be unleashed when my parents return from California and their Napa getaway, the marriage continues to feel like the best bad decision I’ve ever made. Because it no longer feels like a bad decision. It feels like fate.

I really enjoy having her with me. I especially enjoy having her in my bed every night. But now it’s three a.m., and Natalia’s suddenly not here.

Huh.

There are no lights or sounds seeping from under the door to the en suite bathroom, so I’m pretty clueless where she might be.

I’m sure she just couldn’t sleep—is probably up wandering around or getting a midnight snack—because this is still a new, foreign place for her, but something inside me feels…weird.

Like abadweird.

Like something in my gut is warning me that something is wrong.

Throwing off the sheet, I switch on the bedside lamp and grab my boxer briefs and jeans from the pile of Natalia’s and my discarded clothing on the floor. Which of course reminds me of when we tossed them there a few hours ago. Which of course reminds me of her delicious body and the titillating indulgence of being able to fuck bareback—something I’ve never done, but can do now because I’m married to a woman on birth control.

Score, score, score all the live-long dayandnight.

Pulling on the clothes, I decide that we’re going to have another romp in the sheets after I find her, and I smirk to myself before thatbad-weirdfeeling hums in my gut again.

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