The Don's Baby: A Bad Boy Romance (8 page)

“That’s right, baby. Take it all,” he whispered. I obliged, relaxing my throat so I could swallow his entire length. I began moving, in and out. His breath steadily mounted, as his hands controlled my speed, moving me faster and slower, deeper and shallower. I felt him struggle to stay still on the bed. He held my head steady, asking me to stop. He pulled me up and kissed me, rolling us over so he was on top. I was naked under my robe, and he growled appreciatively when he pulled it aside and found that out.

Pulling his pants off, he hurriedly tossed his clothes and my robe aside. He took me by surprise, diving between my thighs and latching onto my clitoris. I gasped and fisted the bed covers in my hand. He spread my legs as far as they would go, holding my body down with his strong arms. My body lifted off the bed, as his teeth grazed my sensitive button. I cried out, feeling his fingers tease my opening and push into me.

His lips and tongue manipulated my folds expertly. I wanted to tell him I was close, but I was incoherent, a writhing, sweaty mess from what he was doing to me. I reached for his hair and my fingers got lost in it. I would have bucked clean off the bed if he wasn’t holding me down when my orgasm came.

It ripped through me, making me scream and shake. As the waves subsided, I felt Marcelo kiss his way up my body, sucking my nipple before kissing up to my neck.

“Was that good?” he asked. I would have rolled my eyes if I wasn’t so spent. He just wanted to hear me say it. He
knew
it was good. I felt his cock against my entrance and the thought of a condom crossed my mind briefly. I knew he hadn’t been with anyone else. There was too much at stake with our fathers this early in our marriage.

His huge piece ran up and down my slit, becoming slick with my juices.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Sophie,” he said.

“I want to feel you inside of me,” I told him wantonly. His thick, round head pressed against my entrance, breaching the slightest depth before he pulled back out. I could have cried from the frustration. I wanted to feel his hot, hard length deep inside of me. As deep as he could go.

“Beg me for it,” he instructed.

“Please…
please
, Marcelo, I want you to fuck me,” I begged. I shut my eyes, feeling him fill me up. My arms went around his neck, and he braced his weight on the bed, thrusting into me. His body was a masterpiece, all muscle and sinew, hard and powerful. When we were together like that, him on top of me, inside of me, the complication of our situation just fell away. We became two people connecting with each other, pleasuring each other. We became dead set on enjoying each other’s bodies, working each other and ourselves into a sweaty, satisfied mess.

I felt another orgasm rise and break inside me. Marcelo’s strokes became shallow and fast, telling me he was close, too. He came soon after I did, spilling his seed inside of me, milking himself dry before pulling out. He rolled onto his back, taking me with him so my body lay on top of his. We were silent, waiting to come down from our highs. My head rested on his chest, both of us still completely naked.

“Do you hate me that much?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

He moved underneath me, making me look up at him.

“Is it that bad being my wife? Do you hate being married to me?” he asked again. I lowered my head to his chest where it had been. I sighed, happy that I wasn’t looking at his face.

“No… I don’t hate you,” I said. I ran a hand lightly over his hard abdomen. The light from the lamp glinted off my wedding band.

“But you don’t
like
me either, do you?”

“You can be…
difficult
. I mean, if everything was as good as this, then I’d have no complaints.” His chest rumbled as he laughed.

“You just want me for my body?”

“As far as I can see, that is the best part,” I said. He pretended to be wounded, putting a hand to his chest.

“
Ouch
. That’s not fair. You don’t even know me,” he said.

“I only know what you’ve shown me. You’re a very difficult man to live with.”

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked. Surprised, I raised my head to look at him.

“Well, you’re bossy. Short tempered. Chauvinistic. Macho—”

“
Macho
?”

“Turning me into your housewife. Pulling me out of work today. I’m just saying, I’d like you a lot more if you toned it down a little.”

“Oh, come on. You
love
it,” he said.

I laughed at his confidence. “There it is again,” I said. I felt his hand running through my hair.

“The way you jumped on me tonight? I would have thrown you over my shoulder—like a caveman—
weeks
ago if I knew you’d react like this.”

I ignored his comment.

“Don’t invite Alana to our house again,” I said quietly. He was quiet—though I knew he had most likely heard me.

“I won’t.” He stroked my hair and pressed a kiss to my head. For one of the only times since we had promised to love and cherish each other, I felt like a real wife.

Marcelo

She fell asleep with her head on my chest.

We were in a hotel room so the options were a lot more limited than they were at our house, but there was a couch she could have retreated to if she was too mad at me to sleep in the same bed… or she could have banished me to it for the same reason. After having amazing sex, we had gone to the shower. Clearly, her giving mood had not been diminished by our session on the bed.

She looked beautiful under the water. So fucking sexy. Her hair looked even darker when it was wet, nearly as dark as mine was. It was plastered to her skin, which turned light pink in her cheeks from the hot water and steam. She had turned around and braced herself against the wall, letting me fuck her from behind.

It was about time.
Shit
. I was getting desperate. I hadn’t thought about cheating on her. I wouldn’t do that…even though our marriage was just on paper. No. I had been taking care of things myself, but while my trusty right hand got the job done, it just didn’t hold a candle to the real thing.

Besides, I wouldn’t do
that
to Sophia. She was as innocent in all this as I was. She didn’t deserve that. She was gorgeous. I would never have gone after another woman because there was a lack of attraction between us. I loved her body. I would lick every inch of it if she wanted me to and if she’d let me. We didn’t do it often, but when we did do it, it was
fantastic
. She was so tight around me. Her skin was velvety smooth and soft under my hands. She responded to every little
movement
, every single
touch
. I wasn’t blind. I hadn’t stopped noticing the beauty of other women just because I had a ring on my finger now, but I had a responsibility to her not to act on those feelings—and I hadn’t.

It made me feel, I don’t know, sort of good that she was a little insecure about Alana. Not
good
, but it made me feel like she wanted to stake her claim on me. She didn’t want another girl getting close, which was good because I didn’t want another girl getting close either. Or another man getting close to her. I knew she was innocent, but I didn’t know how innocent. It wasn’t any of my business how many guys had come before me, but I was willing to take her body count back down to one if she was willing to do the same for me. She had nothing to worry about. Alana was hot, but she didn’t come close. My wife was voluptuous…curves that could stop traffic and sex appeal that could peel the paint off a car. There wasn’t really a competition, but if there was, Sophie had Alana beat out completely.

This felt good. Being in bed with her. We slept in the same bed more often than we didn’t, but having her close like this, especially after we had just had sex felt
really
good
. It felt like one of the few times that we were doing that
newlyweds
thing right. We hadn’t argued. The conversation hadn’t been tense. We had had sex. This was nice. Was this how every night could be? I smiled thinking about it.

Was it so bad to imagine every night being like this? We had gotten married at the behest of our fathers, but that didn’t mean we had to keep living the way that we had been until our marriage ended. We had so many fights, and there was so much coldness between us. It didn’t
have
to be like that. We just had to channel whatever it was that was at work tonight again and again—and maybe one day it would become natural.

I felt her fidgeting in her sleep. She didn’t wake up, but I watched her for a while after she had stilled again. Her eyelashes were long and dark, like her hair.

Mine
, I thought.

All mine.

Her father gave her away at the wedding. She hadn’t lived under his roof for years, and she was now living under mine.
‘Til death do us part.
She wasn’t mine like my car was mine, or the house that we lived in was mine. She was mine to protect. To have and to hold…and all that shit.

All the calls I had made were dead ends. Nobody could tell me who was after Sophia, or whether anyone actually
was
after her. It made me mad. It was fucking
insulting
. We didn’t need this.
She
didn’t need this. Who the hell was it? Did they know what the hell they had gotten themselves into, coming after someone connected to me?

I heard a noise that sounded like it came from outside. I laid still and listened.  I heard the faint ticking of a clock and Sophia’s steady breathing. I held my breath.

There was someone outside the room. I gently shifted Sophia from on top of me and walked towards the window. Whoever was outside the room was out there…because the hallways on the other side were carpeted, so they wouldn’t make a sound when they walked. I listened as I approached the window. The sound was metallic…the fire escape.

I reached into Sophia’s purse and grabbed her handgun because it was closer than mine. I walked to the window again and held the gun up, close to my face. My heart was pounding and anger coursed through me as I thought about whoever might be out there. I moved the curtain back with the barrel of the gun and saw a shadowy figure outside the window. I scrambled to open the window, and they saw me.

They took off down the fire escape. I swung a leg outside the window and pointed the gun at them but didn’t shoot. That would have caused more of a disturbance than was needed right then. If the hotel staff heard gunshots and traced it back to us, then we wouldn’t be able to get out of here, which was exactly what we had to do. I shut and locked the window and started putting my clothes on. All the movement must have bothered Sophia. She stirred on the bed, but she didn’t wake up.

I gently woke her, stroking her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open.

“What is it?” she asked, “What time is it?”

“There’s no time. Get dressed,” I told her. She sat up, her eyes wide with fear.

“Marcelo, what’s going on?” she asked. Her voice was shaking. I didn’t want to scare her more, but I also didn’t want to lie to her.

“We can’t stay here anymore, whoever is after you knows that we’re here.”

“What happened when I was sleeping? Marcelo?” She had stood and wrapped the gown she had on earlier back around her. I couldn’t stand the look on her face. Her eyes were wide, and she had no color in her. I cupped her face and kissed her. I told myself it was for her, but I knew it was for me, too.

“I’ll explain everything in the car. Get dressed, we have to leave.” She didn’t ask any more questions, and I was glad she didn’t. I was too angry to talk. I wanted to break something, punch
someone
. I wanted to punch whoever the punk was that was trying to get into our hotel room. What if I had been in the bathroom, or had left the room for whatever reason? What if Sophia had been alone? I could have become a widower tonight. She could have been murdered right under my nose. This wasn’t a game any longer. This was war.