Chapter 50

50

Jeanne

I come awake with a start. The sunshine streaming in through the gap in the curtain fills the space with a golden glow. I yawn, stretch. My core protests in that deliciously-used-by-a-hard-dick way. The other forbidden hole… throbs. A slight pain thuds up my tailbone and serves as a reminder to never underestimate that part of my body again. Who knew it could bring me such pleasure? Such forbidden, dirty, erotic pleasure. I rotate my shoulders and my scalp tingles. My bones are so mellow, I'm surprised I didn't melt into the bed while I slept. I lengthen my spine, rib by rib, then reach out with my toes. A sense of wellbeing fills me. So, this is what it feels like to be fucked to within an inch of my life by my husband. I still.

My husband. He is my husband . And he didn't panic when I asked what he'd do if I got pregnant. Luca surprised me again. He's not the mean, grumpy, alphahole he projects himself to be. There's more to him than meets the eye. The way he fucked me… It was more than sex. He put his entire body and soul and emotions into it. He told me how he felt about me with his actions. He didn't use the words ‘I love you,' but he did tell me how he feels. It was surprisingly honest and raw and so very real. It touched my soul. I wish it were enough, that I didn't need to hear him also say those three words, but I do.

I sense a presence behind me, turn and gasp. "You..." I draw in a breath. "How long have you been watching me?"

Luca sits in a chair near the nightstand. His legs are kicked out in front, and he stares at me from under those thick eyelashes. Those stunning blue eyes of his glitter in the sunlight. They seem almost colorless this morning. Fascinating. His eyes definitely do change with his mood. More than Elle Woods's choice of footwear all through Legally Blonde 2 .

"Her middle name was Jeanne."

"Eh?" A crease demarcates his forehead.

"Reese Witherspoon, she played Elle Woods in Legally Blonde , and her middle name was Jeanne. My mother named me after her."

"Did she?" He tilts his head.

"I suppose I should be grateful that she didn't call me Elle. I am so not an Elle. Can you see me as an Elle?" I pull the cover all the way up under my chin. I'm deflecting and vacillating... and delaying getting out of bed. Why am I suddenly shy about my body? That's not like me. But hey, it's not every morning you wake up from consummating your marriage to find your hotter-than-Lucifer husband watching you with something like intent in his eyes.

"Get up," he says in a hard voice and my pussy clenches. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Help. Don't do this. Don't make me melt into a splatter of goo, or should I say, cum—my cum—all over again.

How can he look so dashing, so hot, so everything in that black suit he's wearing? He's wearing a black silk shirt, and his tattoo peeks out from the open collar. That black-on-black combination should be overkill, or look pretentious, but really, on Luca it only adds an air of menace that ripples in the air between us and curls around me.

"Don't ignore my order," he growls. That voice. Oh, god, that mean edge to his tone promises all kinds of evil punishments for not doing as he says. I should move before I make it worse for myself. I try to move, but my arms and legs refuse to obey my brain's commands. I'm trapped in the tractor beam that is his gaze.

His eyes gleam.

"On your feet," he drawls.

I shake my head.

"You can't hide forever."

"Wh-when did you wake up?" I swallow.

"A while ago."

"Were you watching me all this time?"

The skin around his eyes tightens. "I had a meeting with the Don."

"With Michael?" Yes, of course, the Don is Michael. If I didn't give away my delaying tactics before, then that question definitely revealed just how much I'm trying to postpone the inevitable.

"You called him Don. So, was this on uh, mob business?"

His jaw tightens. "It was work, yes."

"And did it go well?"

"As well as can be expected." He places the tips of his fingers together. "We can play this game all day; or rather, I can. Because you—" he pulls back the cuff of his sleeve to reveal that expensive watch of his "—have exactly four hours to get ready and show up for your rehearsal."

"What?" I always need to show up in advance of the others so I can stretch and warm up. I glance around the room, searching for a clock. I spot my phone on the nightstand, reach for it, but he snatches it up before me.

"Hey, gimme that."

He tosses it from hand to hand. "Come and get it."

I scowl, then sit up and shove my feet over the edge of the bed—all the while, making sure the sheet covers my front. I stand up, wrap them around me, then move toward him. I stick out my arm for the phone, but he holds it up and out of my reach.

"Give that back," I demand. As if I can demand he do anything.

"Take it back yourself." He smirks. Then, goon that he is, he actually chuckles, as if he's sure I'll never be able to get to it.

"Don't think I won't." I plant my feet on the chair in the space between his thighs and rise up. I grab for the phone, only in doing so, of course, I loosen my grip on the sheet, which slowly slides down my body. I snatch the phone out of his hand, and he takes the opportunity to yank on the sheet, which promptly falls to my feet.

"Oh no," I cry.

"Oh yes." He places his big paws on either side of my hips, and his touch instantly arrows to my core. I'm still standing between his legs and my pussy is on the same level as his eyes. My bare pussy. My naked pussy, which he stares at with intent written all over his face.

"No, no, no." I try to pull away, but does he let me go? Of course not. Instead, he pulls me even closer. Closer. Closer. Close enough for his breath to heat my core. The blood rushes to my clit and my inner walls throb. My thighs clench, and I resist the urge to squeeze them together. He continues to stare at my center with unabashed desire. His big shoulders are so broad, they block out the sight of everything else but him. His biceps are solid muscle and the width of my thighs. Positioned there between his legs, with his face an inch from my pussy, a shiver squeezes up my spine. My heartbeat is so loud, it fills the space between my ears. My pulse thuds between my legs and is echoed by the one at my wrists and at my temples.

"You have the most gorgeous cunt ever, Angel. Pink, juicy, and waiting to be devoured."

"No," my breath hitches, "I can't."

"You can, and you will." He presses his nose in between my pussy lips and draws in a deep breath.

"Oh, Jesus." My knees buckle. Not that he'll let me fall. He digs those thick fingers into either side of my hips and holds me immobile.

"You're filthy. An animal. A monster who?—"

"Is going to eat you out, and you're going to love every second of it." He glances up at me from under hooded eyelids. The sight of him looking up at me from between my legs? There's nothing servile about it. I feel like I'm some kind of pagan offering, and he's the beast who's going to devour me in the most erotic fashion possible. Heat sluices through my veins. My skin feels too tight for my body. I glance down to find the tell-tale string of the tampon between my legs.

"Hold on, I don't remember wearing a tampon before I went to bed last night."

"You didn't."

"What do you mean, you—" I open and shut my mouth. "You…?"

He nods.

"You slid that tampon inside of me?"

"And I'm going to pull it out."

"Luca, don't you dare?—"

He drops his chin, grabs hold of the string between his teeth and tugs. The tampon slides out. He tosses it aside, then dives down into my pussy.

"Wait, the blood from the tampon, it's un?—"

He swipes his tongue up my pussy and my back curves. My body bucks. My already-sensitive flesh trembles.

"You were saying?" His voice is muffled.

"I was… I… I…" I sway a little, not able to string my thoughts together. "I…"

"You—?" I swear I can hear the laughter under his words. He slides his big palms over my butt cheeks, grabs big chunks of my ass and squeezes.

"Oh, god," I gasp. That shouldn't be erotic, or so stimulating, but heat zaps out from his touch and sinks into my blood. All of the pores on my skin pop.

He hauls me even closer, cups my butt, and tilts my pelvis up so I'm perfectly positioned for him to dart his tongue inside my sopping wet channel. Which is exactly what he does a second later. He weaves his tongue in and out. He shifts his hold to the tops of my thighs and coaxes me to part my legs. Then he grabs my leg and hauls it over his shoulder, baring me to his gaze.

"Luca," I whine. "What are you?—"

He lowers his head and swipes that evil tongue of his across my pussy lips again and again. Then he thrusts his tongue inside my channel and curls it.

I grab hold of his hair and tug. "I can't take it. I can't," I sob.

"You can," he murmurs against my clit. The vibrations swirl about my pussy lips, driving me out of my head. I lean my upper body back, even as I yank his head closer, wanting… needing that something which is over the horizon.

He growls against my pussy, then lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his neck, and he straightens. One step, another, then he reaches the bed, throws me onto the mattress, and follows me down. He thrusts his face into my pussy, devouring me, consuming me, wrapping his lips around my clit and tugging until the heat in my belly explodes in a flash of white heat that sweeps over me. I throw my head back and scream as tears run down my cheeks. He still doesn't stop.

The climax grips me, moisture squeezes out between my legs, and he laps it up. Then he crawls over me and kisses me. I taste myself—the sweetness of my cum, the metallic taste of… blood? My period blood. It's unhygienic. It has to be, right? He slides his tongue over mine and positions his cock at my entrance.