HIS STRIPPER, HIS WIFE novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

BIANCA

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I could not speak, not because I didn’t have words. In fact, I had plenty of them a minute ago, enough to fill the entire cabin and embarrass myself thoroughly. But now, with his hand resting just above my ankle and his eyes on mine. Every single one of those words I had in my head had packed up and left without saying goodbye.

He watched me for a moment longer, then something shifted in his expression, he lowered my leg gently back onto the seaf set it down carefully like it was something that required handling, and then he stood up.

He walked toward the curtain, pulled it back slightly and said something to Felix in a voice too low for me to catch evena syllable of. Felix responded and Adrain let the curtain fall back into place and then reached up and clipped it shut properly this time, the way it clearly should have been from the beginning.

He looked at his watch.

“Thirty minutes,” he said, mostly to himself, then looked at me. “I have thirty minutes to make a stressed, angry woman calm.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

He was already crossing back toward me. He sat down on the same seat, right beside me, close enough that I could smell his cologne and that was a problem because it was a very good cologne, it was distracting me, I shifted slightly and it didn’t help.

His hand found my legs and he lifted them and draped them across his lap the same way he had before, easy and unbothered, like this was a reasonable thing to do. His palm slid slowly up my calf, then higher.

“So you were saying,” he began, his voice calm, “that I did what exactly?”

I opened my mouth but I couldn’t form the words. His hand moved higher, slipping under the hem of my gown. Before I could respond, his fingers brushed over the lace of my panties, right against my clit. I jerked slightly, a small, involuntary sound escaping my lips.

“Already so wet for me,” he murmured, voice low and amused. “So is that all you’ve got to say, angry bird?”

He shifted the lace aside and his fingers found my bare, slick folds. He rubbed my clit in slow circles, and my thighs trembled. I leaned into him, my breathing already unsteady.

“Exactly, that’s what I thought,” he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him.

For someone whose mouth was running some minutes ago, I shouldn’t be feeling like this but whatever he was doing, was really getting to me.

I pressed my lips together and looked anywhere but his face, the window, the ceiling, even the stitching on the seat beside me but none of it helped. My body had completely betrayed everything I stood up for twenty minutes ago and the worst part was that he knew it.

“So you’ve not answered my question….?” he repeated, clearly enjoying this.

One thick finger pushed inside me without warning. I moaned softly into his neck, gripping his arm tightly. Before I could even adjust, he added a second finger, stretching me slowly as he pumped them in and out with perfect control.

“Argggh” I moaned a little louder than I meant to.

“Shhh he whispered against my ear, his breath hot. “Don’t let them hear you.” Which was an incredibly unfair thing to say given the circumstances

Chapter 22

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He moved closer until I was nearly sitting in his lap. His fingers continued their slow, deep rhythm, curling inside me each time he thrust them in. My pussy clenched greedily around him, wetness coating his hand with every stroke.

His other hand tugged at the thin rope holding the front of my gown together. It loosened easily, and the fabric slipped off my shoulders, exposing my breasts completely. Cool air hit my skin for only a second before his mouth was on me.

He sucked one hardened nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking over it while his left hand kneaded the other breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. All the while, his right hand kept fucking me with those two long fingers. It was steady, relentless, and devastatingly good.

At one point, my body was shaking. tried to reach for his shirt, desperate to touch him, to undo his buttons, to feel his skin, but every time I tried, he shifted or adjusted just enough to stop me.

“Adrian…” I breathed, half plea, half frustration.

He didn’t answer, he just sucked harder on my nipple and thrust his fingers deeper, his thumb now pressing firm circles on my swollen clit.

I was losing control, my hips were moving on their own, chasing his hand. The pleasure was building fast, almost embarrassingly fast.

I pulled back slightly, trying to catch my breath. His hand stilled for a moment, fingers still buried deep inside me, his other palm still cupping my breast. He looked at me with dark, satisfied eyes and the faintest smirk.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, voice rough

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