Chapter 41

We step out of the elevators, and I turn the corner and head into The Lilith, where an attendant in a formfitting red dress greets us.

“Mr. And Mrs. Anderson. Lovely to see you this evening.”

Belle grips my hand tightly, her face flushed, and I bite back a smile.

My last name sounds so good on her.

“Sir, do you want me to take you to your usual room?”

I shake my head. “You don’t need to take me there. I got it.”

The attendant smiles and walks back behind her desk.

Stepping through the hidden door behind her, I lead Belle down the hall of dark gray and navy hues until we reach the large group space that is already half full of people tonight.

Moans and whimpers mix with grunts and growls, the smell of sex and lust heavy in the air.

Belle gasps and tugs me on my sleeve. “What’s this place? Do you come here a lot?” She stiffens slightly, like she’s jealous.

Chuckling under my breath, I turn to her and caress her cheek, watching her eyes widen and darken as she takes in the erotic activities around her.

My little muse is curious, just as I thought.

Leaning down, I whisper in her ear, “This is The Lilith, the voyeur and exhibition room on the Rose floors. I used to come here once or twice a year because I could watch and indulge without the pressures of people wanting more from me. Follow me. We won’t be spending our time out here tonight. ”

There’s no way I’m letting anyone witness my Belle in the throes of an orgasm. That sight is for me alone.

Pulling her behind me, I lead her down a long corridor. Her breathing quickens as we pass by windows displaying occupants in various stages of sex. There are two men kissing each other on a bed in one room, followed by a masked woman writhing on a sofa with two men railing her from behind and another man stuffing his cock into her mouth.

“Oh wow,” Belle whispers as she pauses by the window with the three men and the woman. She presses her thighs together.

Stepping behind her, I curl my arms around her waist and plaster her to my front so she can feel how hard I am for her right now.

“You see,” I rasp before biting her ear, “I seem to recall my wife likes to watch and gets turned on at the idea of being watched.”

“I never said that,” she moans, her eyes fluttering shut, her hips moving in a sultry motion, rubbing against my aching hard on.

“Remember how you watched me in the shower, you naughty girl? How wet you got, how you couldn’t wait for me to make you mine even though you hated me?”

I slide my hand down her dress, inching it up until I expose her lace panties. My fingers swipe the tiny scrap of cloth.

Fuck. She’s so wet right now. My cock pulses, and I thrust into her backside and groan.

“And when I made love to you against the windows, remember that?” My voice is rough as we move in unison, two people twisting their bodies against each other in a lurid dance.

“Maxwell,” she gasps when I find her clit over her underwear and give it a pinch. “Fuck me.”

My control is taut, my restraint about to snap, and with a growl, I carry her in my arms as I stride past the other displays and into the room I usually go in on the rare occasion I visit.

I toss Belle onto the king-sized bed, watching her tits bounce, her cleavage indecent from the wide neckline .

She’s panting heavily, her face flushed, and she licks her plump bottom lip.

The fucking tease.

I yank off my tie, then my suit jacket and shirt, watching her eyes widen with appreciation as her gaze trails over my body.

My belt comes off next, the loud whipping sound echoing in the room and she flinches, but instead of fear in her eyes, I only see lust and intense affection.

I hit a button by the door and the shades over the wall of glass lift, revealing two couples on the other side—exhibitionists randomly chosen since I didn’t state my preferences ahead of time. Belle gasps as her attention shifts to the scene behind me.

A tattooed man is making his way down a brunette’s body, kissing and fondling her as she whimpers on the bed. On the sofa is a couple already in the throes of fucking, the woman bouncing on the man like he’s her personal bull at a rodeo, her cries loud in the room.

These couples don’t interest me as much as watching my little muse turn redder, her legs rubbing against each other as she squirms on the bed. Her hand travels between her legs.

“Don’t you dare touch that pussy,” I command, and her eyes snap to mine. She freezes and shivers. My little muse is so turned on right now. “You don’t get to do anything tonight other than feel and watch.”

Slowly, I take off my pants and underwear, my cock bobbing up and curling against my stomach, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. I give it a few hard tugs, my balls twitching with the need to come inside my wife.

She wets her lips and widens her legs, letting me see her soaked panties.

Grabbing her legs, I yank her to the edge of the bed as I bunch her dress up around her waist, too far gone to spend the extra seconds to take it off. I rip off the scanty lace and she flinches from the burn, but before she can say anything, I dive and taste those beautiful lips down there, already wet with her sweetness .

“Maxwell!” she cries. She arches up, her body trying to move away from my onslaught, but I hold her tightly as I swipe my tongue through her folds.

She tastes like honey and nectar, sweetness and sunshine. I can’t get enough. “Let’s see if I can make you cry louder than the people in the room.”

I seal my lips over her swollen clit and suck, my tongue flicking it in quick circles as I insert a finger, then two into her tight entrance, groaning when I feel her clench around me.

“Maxwell, please, p-please, oh fuck,” Belle mewls, her legs clamping my head in a vise as she undulates on my face.

I suckle her clit and hammer my fingers inside her, the wet sounds of my movements adding to the erotic soundtrack of the sex happening on the other side of the glass.

Her walls clench as she bows up, her muscles tense and rigid, and with a dark chuckle, I kiss those pretty lips of her pussy and take out my fingers.

“No! Maxwell, I need to come,” Belle complains as she tries to pull me back with her legs.

I crawl above her and yank down her dress and bra so I can see the pretty brown nipples saluting me. Hovering above her, I grind my body on hers, my cock leaking and making a mess, but I don’t care.

“Look at my prim and proper wife, begging for my cock underneath me. You’re a cum slut just for me. Insatiable. You need to come, little muse? You need my cock inside your tight pussy because you’re aching for me?” I rasp as I stare into her tawny eyes, the blacks of her pupils nearly eclipsing her irises.

“Yes,” she pants out her answer, and angles her hips so my dick slides against her clit with every gyration. Her eyes roll backward as I feel her legs shaking.

“No one knows the real you, you tiny little thing needing my big cock and cum so I can get your belly full of me, because I’m putting a baby inside you.”

“Y-Yes, please help me.” She claws my back and I growl from the pain, which only adds to my pleasure.

“Beg me, Belle. Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to stuff you full of my cum.” Burning heat races down my spine to my balls and a spurt of cum erupts from my cock, dripping over her pussy lips, adding to the slick lubrication as I fight the urge to come.

Her glazed eyes snap open, her mouth parting. “Fuck me, Maxwell. Use me like your whore and give me all your cum.” The dirty words slip out of her mouth and I see her eyes widening in surprise.

Only I get to see this side of her.

Mindless with lust, I wrench her legs above my shoulders and slam inside her in one stroke.

“Fuuuuck,” I roar, the heat from her core engulfing my cock in a vise and pleasure, overwhelming pleasure, chases away all the worries in my mind.

She screams and thrashes under me as I lock her hands above her head and begin moving in a quick rhythm.

I won’t last long.

Each thrust sends us farther up the bed until we’re by the headboard.

Belle is moaning loudly, incoherent words slipping out of her lips as I stare at her flushed face, the beauty mark under her eye, the connection in our gaze only adding to the inferno burning inside me.

My cock swells and lengthens, sliding into her pussy like my life depends on it, and I briefly register the quieting moans from the scene happening on the other side of the glass.

I slap a hand on a button by the panel, and I link my fingers with Belle’s over her head, my gaze glued to hers, watching her eyes darken and smolder.

Belle’s legs tremble before locking around my waist and I angle her further under me so I can enter her deeper, hitting a spot so far up that has her screaming.

“Come, little muse. They can hear you begging for my cum.” They can’t see her, but they can damn well hear my little closet exhibitionist .

Belle screams louder and she detonates.

I grip her hands tightly as her pussy strangles my cock in a chokehold and I go over the edge with her, flying into euphoria.

Release after release streams out of me, the madness disorienting.

Minutes pass by before either of us can move. The room on the other side of the glass darkens, the performers long having vacated the space.

I brace myself above her, so that every part of me is touching her body, and kiss those pouty lips, tasting her sweetness, savoring this intense connection that has been simmering in the background since the day she stepped into my car.

My heart swells as I break our kiss to stare at her.

This beautiful woman who sees all my scars and flaws and yet accepts me for who I am. The perfect yin to my yang.

“Belle, I,” I swallow before pressing another kiss to her lips. “I…I…”

Her eyes mist over, as if she knows everything I’m feeling, my soul bursting with so many vibrant colors I don’t know how to get the masterpiece in my heart out onto paper.

A tear slips out of her eyes and her lips tremble.

A flash of pain stabs me—I don’t ever want her to cry over me.

“Maxwell, I…I can’t tell you what you want to hear,” she whispers, the tears falling down in earnest and my heart clenches because I know how she feels and what she’s going to say.

And maybe it’s because we are in this bubble, away from the mansion, an overwhelming elation sifts through me, smothering the curl of dread threatening to break through.

“I love you, I love you so much, you beautiful man.” The words tumble out of her mouth as she stares at me with so much love, so much affection, I’m robbed of my voice.

My heart bursts with warmth, the exhilaration disorienting and I can’t do anything other than to stare at her, this goddess beneath me I don’t deserve.

Then, the fear sets in. She just told me she loves me. The curse. My breathing quickens .

“I’m sorry, Maxwell, I know you told me—”

“Shhh…” I hush her before I seal my lips with hers once more, kissing the only lips I’m going to kiss for the rest of my life. It’s okay, I haven’t said the words back to her yet. It should be fine. Fuck, please let it be fine.

Our tongues tangle with each other, my lips moving reverently on hers, our fingers clutching each other tightly so we’ll never be apart.

“Don’t say anything more, please .” My heart pounds ferociously inside my chest. The sentiment inside me, the one that has been banging against my rib cage, begging to be let out, is at the tip of my tongue.

And it’s taking every ounce of restraint I have to hold it in, to not say the three words I want to tell her aloud.

Instead, I kiss her like there’s no past, no tomorrow, no curses, no deaths. I kiss her like the present is all that matters, like this moment can last forever.

And I pray…I pray the curse didn’t hear her.