“I’ll be in room four zero three if you decide you have some free time.” The falsetto mocking makes me sound like a child, but I don’t care. She sounded like she was sampling the helium from the fake peckers her surgeon put on her chest.
“You’re jealous.” Matthias beams at me. His stormy eyes shine with amusement, twinkling in the lights. Fuck yeah, I am jealous. I am not going to tell him that, though.
“Pfft,” I huff and take a sip of my champagne. “No.”
He hums like he doesn’t believe me.
“So, if I was to meet her upstairs in her room later?”
“See how far you get before I stab a knife through your testicles.”
Matthias grimaces at the image, his hand going to his groin.
“And you say you’re not jealous.”
I scoff. “There’s a difference between jealousy and not wanting to catch one of her many, many diseases. Like entitlement. Or the obsessive need to see a plastic surgeon on a daily basis.”
Matthias throws his head back and laughs. A full, deep-throated laugh that has my toes curling and pussy clenching. Jesus, I wish he would do that more often.
“Shit.” I knock my fork off the table. Scooting my chair back, I bend down to pick it up, but it is still slightly out of reach. Well, damn. I know I could have waited for a waiter to get another one, but leaving cutlery on the floor doesn’t sit right with me, so I do what any well-brought-up woman would do.
I kneel to retrieve it.
“Where did your friend go?”
Oh, that bitch is vapid and stupid. All those bleach products to her hair have fried her brain.
“She’s,” he pauses for a moment, chuckling a bit. “Around.”
Biting back a laugh, I maneuver myself under the table while the blonde bimbo from planet Barbie tells Matthias all about herself. My daddy’s this and he bought me that. I get a pony on my twelfth birthday and name it Sparkles Pancakes.
Okay, that last part is made up.
Matthias’s legs twitch slightly when I put my hand on his knees and lean into him. The tablecloth is so long that no one besides my husband knows I am under here. Without hesitation, I unbutton his slacks and pull at the gold zipper. My mouth waters when I see he is going commando. He is already half hard.
His pelvis jerks when I take his length in my hand, and I can feel him hardening in my grip.
And men think they have all the power.
He groans. The feeling of my hot, wet mouth on his cock is too much for him to contain.
“Are you alright?” the blonde asks, concerned.
“Just getting comfortable.” He clenches his jaw; I can hear it in his voice. “You were telling me about your pitbull?”
“Oh gosh no,” the woman exclaims. “My poodle. Hypoallergenic.”
Laughing to myself, I take him in my mouth, and he stiffens beneath me, twitching against my tongue. We haven’t been married all that long, and until tonight, I’ve never been the one bold enough to initiate anything. Especially not in public. Matthias is always the one to take control and lead.
Most of the time I am too anxious to try anything, afraid he will reject me, but now, as I suck him down and feel him harden even further in my mouth, I know I have nothing to worry about.
I can feel my abdomen tightening and my core flushing with heat at the prospect of being caught servicing my husband under the table at one of the finest restaurants in the city. The thrill of excitement and the thought of being caught light my body on fire.
Pulling back out, I flatten my tongue along the underside of his shaft until there is nothing but the crown left in my mouth.I swirl my tongue along his girth, licking the slit at the top. His knee jerks, catching the table.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Fine,” he grits. “Continue.”