HIS STRIPPER, HIS WIFE novel Chapter 114

Chapter one hundred and fourteen

Bianca

The pace stayed unhurried, he kept one hand tangled in my hair and the other under my thigh, holding me open so he could go deeper. The storm outside was still loud, but the only things I really heard were his voice and the wet sound of him moving in and out of me.

“I thought about this every night,” he said, voice rough now. “Thought about your mouth, your tits, this pussy and how good it feels when you squeeze me like that.”

When I started to come a second time he didn’t speed up. He just kept the same steady rhythm and talked me through it, telling me how much he loved the way I clenched around him, how nothing else felt this right. He followed me over the edge a few seconds later, buried deep, forehead pressed to mine, whispering that he wanted every part of me as he came.

Afterward I lay curled against his chest, everywhere was dark now, the storm outside was now worse. His fingers moved lazily through my hair but neither of us spoke. The only sound was the rain and the slow beat of his heart under my ear.

It was his phone that broke it instead, it lit up on the nightstand beside the bed, screen glowing bright in the dark room, and I felt him go still beneath me the second he saw the name flash across it.

Victoria.

“And what the fuck does she need again,” he muttered under his breath, already reaching to swipe the notification away.

Before he could drop the phone completely, another message came through, the screen lighting up again just long enough for me to lean into it.

“Velvet Night? Is that what you are now?”

My eyes caught the words before he could stop it, he turned the phone face down against his chest and pulled me closer into him instead, like that would erase what I had already seen.

I didn’t say anything, I llay there against him, my mind turning the words over and over, trying to figure out if I had actually read that correctly or if it was just my head playing tricks on me after everything that had happened tonight. Either way, I decided to let it go, at least for now. It wasn’t the time, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy to open that door tonight.

“What are you thinking so seriously about?” he asked, his fingers still moving slowly through my hair.

“Work tomorrow,” I lied.

“Oh, what a diligent worker,” he said, and I could hear every bit of humor packed into those words. I laughed myself, and a second later he joined me, his chest shaking under my cheek.

We spent a while after that talking about random things on the internet, scrolling through his phone together, him reading out something ridiculous he found and me pretending I wasn’t as amused as I actually was.

Eventually he locked the phone to put it aside, and that was when I saw it, the picture he had taken of me that morning back at his place, now set as his wallpaper.

“Why did you do that?” I asked, pointing at the screen before it went dark.

“Because I want to,” he said.

For a second I didn’t have anything to say to that, I just stared at him.

I was sitting with Rae, one of the designers from the fashion house, both of us picking at our food in the small café down the street from the office, when my phone buzzed against the table. I glanced at it without much thought, expecting a message from Emma or maybe something work related.

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