Oh, dear God, I love her so much.
What can I do to make her love me back?
I stare down the usher when he has the poor judgment to look at my wife’s tits. “Do you like the opera house, angel?” I ask Blessing through my teeth, guiding her up the stairs, careful to block her rear end from view of anyone standing below.
“Oh yes,” she breathes. “I slept outside of it a couple of times when the orphanage got too crowded, so I’ve seen it through the windows, but nothing could compare to seeing it in real life. It’s magnificent.”
Her casual admission about sleeping outside in the cold nearly chokes me. “I will be purchasing it for you immediately.”
“I…what?”
“It will be named after you. It will be yours.” I thought my announcement would make me feel better, but the back of my neck is still tight. “I can’t stand the thought of you sleeping outside, baby. It tears me apart.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again.”
“No. No…” At the top of the staircase, I take her by the shoulders and lean down until we’re eye level. “You should tell me everything. Never hold back with me. I only meant…I wish I knew you were out there sooner. Maybe I would have realized sooner that life is about more than money and business deals. Life is about…you.”
Jesus, that speech made me vulnerable as hell, but when her eyes turn dreamy, I don’t regret it for a second. “Edison?”
“Yes?”
A pink blush spreads on her cheeks. “I…I have big feelings for you. Real ones.”
Joy almost lifts me off the carpeted floor. “You do?”
She bites her lip and nods. “I was attracted to you the night we met, but…I didn’t know I would grow to feel…more.” She steps closer, reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. “You’re making me feel more.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’ll try to keep at it,” I manage to rasp.
“Okay, husband,” she murmurs.
And then she does something I’m not expecting. We’re on the top floor of the opera house. It’s a more elite crowd up here. They are dressed to the nines, mingling, preparing to enter their private boxes. Blessing and I are already the center of attention, as I am the most prominent man in attendance and word has likely spread that I am recently married to a former orphan and beggar. The speculation must be rampant.
But when Blessing wraps her thighs around my hips in the middle of the lobby, she very likely sends the gossips into a tizzy. My wife isn’t even conscious of her actions. She’s just looking me in the eye, existing in our own little world and doing what feels right. And what feels right is her pussy touching me at all times.
Around us, the crowd whispers, stares and speculates.
I don’t give a flying fuck.
“Is there somewhere we can go so I can suck on your cock again, Daddy?”
My knees almost give out. What have I done to deserve this? Nothing. That’s what. But it’s all going to change. I’m going to change my whole life’s philosophy to make her proud to call herself my wife. “No, Blessing. It’s your turn,” I say against her lips. “I haven’t made you come yet and that is a fucking crime.”
It’s torture to take my eyes off my wife for a second, but I’m sensing a change in the room’s atmosphere, so I scan the room above her head. Men are angling themselves to get a better look at Blessing. Some of them have noticeably tented their pants and are too entranced by her to bother trying to hide their arousal. One man turns and walks to a dark corner of the lobby and positions himself behind a heavy drape, his vigorous arm movements making it obvious that he’s jerking himself off.
She’s exuding pure sex and it’s affecting everyone.
Especially me.
She gave me the best orgasm of my life twenty minutes ago, except for the one I had in her pussy last night, and my balls are already back to swollen. My tongue is thick in my mouth and my pulse is hammering out of control.
When some of the crowd begins to edge closer, I know I must act fast.
She’s the ultimate prize and everyone wants to compete.
Over my dead fucking body.
With a growl intended to ward them off, I stride to my private box and lock us inside. Blessing is oblivious to the danger her magnetism has put us in.
Fists are now pounding at the door, but she doesn’t appear to hear them, her eyes merely scanning my face nervously. “What’s wrong, Edison?”
“You don’t hear them knocking?”
“Who?”
The raps increase in volume and number. Dear God. I press her up against the door and pin her there with my hips, while fishing my phone out of my pocket. I quickly dial Ben. “Call security at the opera house. Immediately. They want my wife. They are beating down the door for her. And when you’re finished doing that, send a security team here to escort us out. They’ll be with her permanently going forward.”