Her cunt clenches around me, encouraging me to pound harder into her. I grip her breast hard through her dress as I ravish her mouth with mine. I devour each needy moan until she’s trembling with a near orgasm.
“Put your foot there,” I instruct, nodding to the hood of the car right beside us. “I want your pussy wide open so you can take every inch, Talia.”
She unpeels her leg from my waist and spreads herself. I grip her knee and push it, stretching her. The heel of her shoe finds purchase on the hood. Her head tilts back as she breathes heavily.
“I’m so close,” she moans. “Touch me.”
Her hand holding her panties to the side trembles. I reach between us and finger her needy nub that’s warm to the touch. My cock slides in and out of her easily as she becomes juicy as fuck.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I growl, pinching her clit.
“Mmm,” she moans. “Oh, God. So close.”
I rub her until she spirals out of control. Then, I slam into her hard. Over and over and over until she’s clawing the shit out of my neck and her arousal is soaking me. She shudders again, signaling another climax, which sets me off with my own. I groan as my cum jets deep inside her. The moment my dick stops twitching, I slide out of her heat and pull away.
What a fucking sight.
My wife spread open with my cum running down her thigh, her eyes hooded with lust. I step closer and bend so I can run my fingers through our combined juices running down her leg. Slowly, with my eyes locked on hers, I run them back up her leg to her pussy. She lets out a sharp gasp when I push the cum back inside her.
“It belongs right here,” I growl. “Right fucking here.”
She bites on her bottom swollen lip and nods.
“Now put your panties in place like a good little wifey and keep my cum inside you.”
Her fingers release her panties and then she adjusts them so they cover her again. I hook my arm under her knee and ease it down so that her feet are once again planted on the pavement. Her entire body trembles.
“Oh, naughty Talia,” I rumble, glancing at the hood of my brother’s car. “You’ve scratched his car.” Gouges from the heel of her shoe mar the shiny surface. He’s going to be so fucking pissed.
Her eyes flash with evil wickedness I’m sure she’s learned from me. “Oops.”
I grip her jaw in a punishing grip and kiss her hard until she’s panting and clawing at me for more. Pulling away slightly, I grin at her.
“Are we going to fuck on your car next?” she purrs, her voice breathless.
“My car cost a helluva lot more than his.” I stroke her hair. “But you can suck me off on the way home, dirty wife.”
“And then you can have your dessert by the pool when we get home,” she challenges back.
I reach between us and feel her up, loving how soaked her panties are as my cum drains out of her.
“A good marriage is about compromise,” I tell her with a sinister smile. “And we’re getting really fucking good at it.”
Talia
“Looks like you’ve been busy.” Aris steps through the doors of Pomegranate and eyes the place speculatively. My gaze follows his, trying to see through an outsider’s eyes the finished restaurant. The rich crimson, dark brown, and black color scheme flows throughout the place. Mahogany tables and chairs matched with blood red centerpieces, which hold tiny candles that flicker against the dark walls, giving it a sensual and mystical feel. A large cut-open pomegranate custom designed and created out of crystal and wrought iron is hung on the center of the back wall to represent the symbolic meaning of the restaurant’s name. It’s hung just above the large stone fireplace, which was created to give the restaurant a warm and cozy feel to it.
“I gotta be honest,” he continues, assessing the expansive bar just off the dining room, “I didn’t really think you’d be able to pull it off, but it seems I underestimated you.” His eyes land on mine, his one brow rising in a challenging way.
Every time Aris speaks to me, as if he hadn’t forced himself on me only a couple short months ago—stealing the most precious part of myself, as if it were his to steal—my stomach roils in disgust. Instead of meeting with him, like he advised, I managed to find a loophole by sending weekly emails to update him. I was shocked when I sent the first one and he replied with a simple “Thank you.” My only thought is maybe having Selene around is keeping him occupied. I’ve seen them around the hotel on several occasions: having a drink at the bar, coming and going out of Aris’s villa, going out to dinner at the restaurants on the grounds—Kostas and I even got roped into joining them once. Yuck! Maybe he’s done antagonizing me. It would definitely make things easier if that were the case. Nothing is harder than trying to move forward with Kostas, while having his brother lurking in the shadows.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Aris, ignoring his backhanded compliment. With the restaurant set to open in less than two weeks, I’m meeting Rosie, who I’ve hired to manage the restaurant, and Angelo, the head chef, to finalize the menu. I could’ve left it up to Rosie to handle it since she’s more than capable, with twenty years of restaurant management experience under her belt, but Pomegranate has become my baby, and I want to see it through to the final detail.
“Do I need to remind you that this restaurant is owned by the Demetrious, and therefore obligates me to make sure it meets the standards our name represents?”
I should’ve known when I emailed Aris to let him know the restaurant is done, and that I would be confirming the menu today for opening night, he would show up.
“My brother may be pussy-whipped and not care what you do,” he continues, “but I’m not waiting until opening night to make sure everything is in order.”
My stomach heaves at the mention of the word pussy out of Aris’s mouth, but I choke it down. I need to get this meeting over with and then I can go home to my husband and get lost in him, erasing every part of Aris once again from my mind.
Just as I’m about to tell him to go fuck himself, the door opens again, and in walks Rosie, dressed in a professional royal blue pantsuit. Her heels click-clack against the wood floor. She smiles wide at me and waves as she approaches Aris and me.
“I hope I’m not late,” she says, glancing at Aris, who is now standing by the table where my tablet and cell phone are at. I was working on a couple final details while I was waiting for Rosie to arrive and the chef to finish.
“Nope, you’re right on time.” I want nothing more than to pretend Aris isn’t here, but when he clears his throat, silently indicating to make introductions, my manners win out. “Aris,” I say, gesturing toward the man I despise, “this is Rosie, the restaurant manager. Rosie, this is Aris, the bookkeeper.”
Aris’s nostrils flare at my little dig. Everyone knows how jealous and resentful he is toward Kostas, especially since Kostas has formally taken over the entire organization in his father’s indefinite absence.
“Aris, is there anything else you need?” I ask, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave.
“Nah.” He tilts his head to the side slightly and swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, hitting me with a hard stare. My stomach knots, worried I’ve crossed the line and angered the beast.