Chapter 60
Leith
A godforsakenpressure strangles mybaws. I’ll not wish this curse on my worst enemy. I’d bloody rather be stabbed than have Chevelle’s miraculous lips flee my dick. Groaning from deep down in my chest, I ask my wife, “Why. The.Feck. Did ye stop?”
“Oh, I love the sound of your voice. I’m so wet for you, baby. But you drugged me.”
“Ye absolved me.” I gasp, mopping my lips across her chest. “Yer kisses were so compassionate, so forgiving.”
“Did I?”
“Och, maybe nae.” I shrug. “My turn now.”
“Leith, I’m not sleeping with you after you drug—”
I pull Chevelle beneath me and bind her wrists in one motion. While my tongue tangles with my wife’s, I clamp her face, ceasing all her attempts to run. In a frenzy, I nip and bite her neck.
At her shiver of a cry, I groan, “Ye love it when Ifeckye, Chevelle.” I can’t slow thefeckdown, can’t stop the fever she sparked in us. My hands cup herarse, and I push her legs wide, planting my face there.
“Ye said I drugged ye? Nae, this is a drug, my drug.” I inhale the sugary scent of her.
“Ohhh . . . Leith,” she cries out as my tongue plows into her sex. “I’m still angry, damn! Oh, baby!”
“Aye, ye’re bloody elated!” My skilled fingers caress Chevelle’s clit. I look up with fascination from between her thighs.Feckthe dull ache from my gun wound.
“Leith, baby, stop. I’m . . . angry. Please let me be angry.” Her face is gorgeous, erotic, sexy, maddening, and indeed, bloodyfeckin’angered all at once.
“Ye’re happy,” I demand, lowering my head to her sex.
With her walls tightening around my tongue, the renewed urgency of having her pushes me to the edge. I flip until I’m on my back, and Chevelle is on top,arseand hips straddling my entire face. My tongue pushes farther into her, kissing fiercely.
Chevelle’s hips move, rocking against me as my biceps pump her, thrusting her shuddering cunt over my tongue. With every stroke of my mouth along the drug lined walls of her sex, my bristled jaw scrapes softly between her thighs. Chevelle grows weak, swaying with me until she unleashes a river of honey.
“Yesss! Yesss . . .” her cries are drowned out by her body rocking orgasm. I grip Chevelle about the waist and bring her trembling body down over mine.
“Oh, baby, I love you so much,” she murmurs. “Give me a second. I’ll die if you’re not inside of me.”
I kiss her mouth. “That’s the sweetest taste I’ve ever had, love.”
“Leith . . .” Her soft hand glides down over my hardened cock. I place my hand over hers, kissing her again. “Mmmm, hen. Put those panties back on. When we’re done with this, I’m gonna have ye, all of ye.”
“Ohhh,” she groans.
“Now that ye tortured me enough.”
Her swollen breasts tremble. “I take it back. Not fair.”
My knuckles follow the soft crease of her frown. I kiss her again. “Chevelle, later, I promise. Sweetheart, tell me, who thefeckis the bitch next to Fausto? Tell me ye’re not gonna be lenient with Fausto on account that she’s yer friend.”
“No, Leith. I think she may be the reason Fausto became spooked and reached out to the Romans. Her name is Ophelia Kelly, and if it’s true, I’ll kill that bitch with my bare hands.”
Chapter 61
Chevelle
Last night,I shared every aspect of my relationship with Ophelia Kelly. Mostly, about how Ophelia, owner of Kelly’s Steakhouse, strung me along for the last two weeks.
Now, we’ve climbed into the Chevelle SS, having abandoned his precious import in his parents’ garage. The Audi appears fit for a scene in a Jurassic Park spinoff with all the slashes on its rear. As Leith drives, I murmur my apologies.