Page 44 of The Forever One
I will not be walked all over.
* * *
Wearing a red knee-length pencil dress, I’m sitting beside Marco in the bar of his SoHo hotel. It’s nearly the end of the evening and the capos have just finished paying their respects with birthday gifts for their don.
Ray “The Stinger” gave him a small case of cigars, “Babyface” Tommy gave him a new shotgun—who the fuck gives someone a shotgun for their birthday? Eddy “Snake-Eyes” gave him a bottle of super-expensive-looking whiskey, and J has just given him a large dagger. I watch as he pulls a penny from the hilt, flicking it in the air where J catches it one-handed. Each of them all do the whole respectful nod thing to each other and it’s like some kind of strange ceremony.
Will my next birthday be like this?
Marco squeezes my thigh, leaning over to kiss my neck. “Shall we get out of here, Tesoro? One more toast and my duty is over.”
“It’s your night, baby. Whatever you want to do.”
“I want you to call me baby again while I eat you out.”
“Such a romantic.”
“Always for you, Tesoro.”
He pulls away and raises his whiskey glass, gaining the attention of all the capos and the few soldiers around the room. “Salute.”
“Salute,” they all respond, and everyone downs whatever drink they have left, cheering and slamming glasses down.
We leave the bar with lots of back patting and half hugs for Marco on the way out as they wish him a happy birthday.
“Why aren’t we going to the exit?”
“We’re in the new honeymoon suite tonight, Tesoro. It was the last room to be renovated and I want to christen it with my wife.” He guides me toward the elevator and pushes me inside as it opens.
Before I have a chance to speak, Marco shoves me against the wall and his lips are against mine as the doors close behind us.
“I’ve been waiting for this all night.” His words are whispered over my mouth between nips and licks. He bends and pulls the skirt of my dress up and over my hips while maintaining the bruising kiss as he rubs against my clit, finding me plenty wet for him already.
Two fingers are pushed inside my pussy, and I gasp at the welcome intrusion. He bends them just right, using his palm against my clit, moving his lips down to suck and nip at my jaw then neck.
My orgasm builds from the tips of my toes, growing up and through my stomach as he adds another finger. His other hand is in my hair, massaging my head and keeping me exactly where he wants me as his lips are back on mine, capturing my moans of pleasure.
It hits me a little unexpectedly when one of his fingers brushes against my asshole and my whole body shudders at the sensations. The vibrations of his chest against mine are addictive. Every time this man makes me come, it sends fireworks off in my brain.
The doors ping open and, luckily, there isn’t anybody around as Marco lifts me and carries me out with my legs wrapped around his waist. We continue to kiss all the way down the hall, even while he uses the keycard to unlock the room.
I pay zero attention to the space around us, because right now I’m focused on my husband. It is his birthday, after all. We go through another door, and he places me on the bed before unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his pants—I could watch him undress all day and never get bored of the sight before me—and I smile as I stare at the tattoo on his ribs. Now that I know what it means, it has a special place in my heart for my own personal stalker.
There is a silver dome over a tray on the table in the corner of the room and a tall can of whipped cream, giving me the best idea.
“Stand at the end of the bed for me, Husband.” I get up and move over to the tray as he watches me with a lust-filled gaze, saying nothing, a smirk firmly planted on his face.
I strip off my dress, leaving me in fishnet stockings and nothing else, before picking up the can of whipped cream. Walking back over to the bed, I squirt a little in my mouth as I get on my knees in front of him, pressing the nozzle and watching as streams of whipped cream shoot out along his shaft. Like it’s the best dessert in the world, I lick at the cream, moaning as I suck it all off, looking up at him through my lashes.
He looks like he’s struggling to maintain any semblance of control as he takes a deep breath and holds my cheeks, encouraging me to stand.
“It’s my birthday, Tesoro, and I’m hungry for my dessert.” Once I’m standing, he switches our positions and pushes me back onto the bed, not wasting any time in spreading my legs apart. Somehow, he’s got ahold of the whipped cream, and he squirts it over my nipples, down my stomach, and around my belly button, then he squirts some more along the inside of my thighs.
“Hands above your head, no interfering with my birthday treat.”
I do as he says with no argument. My husband is a master with his tongue.
He slowly licks up one of my thighs, whispering the tips of his fingers along the outside, moving across my stomach and latching onto my right nipple. He sucks all the cream off before moving on to the other nipple, swirling his tongue around and gripping it between his teeth. My back arches off the bed in ecstasy as he tastes me all over, his hands constantly massaging and gripping at my hips, my ass, and my breasts.