The Temporary Wife: Luca and Valentina's Story(41)

Her eyes widen, and I smirk as I drag a finger over her covered pussy. “You’re my wife,” I tell her as I push the fabric aside, the feel of her slippery pussy nearly making me lose my mind. I groan and push two fingers into her, until I’ve got them pressed against her G-spot. “Did you forget that?”

She moans and shakes her head as she reaches for the lapels of my suit jacket. “No,” she breathes. “Of course not.” I press my thumb against her clit, and her eyes fall closed.

“No,” I tell her. “Look at me.”

She blinks, her cheeks flushing as her eyes find mine. “Good girl,” I whisper. “I like you best this way, baby. Your gaze filled with defiance even as your body yields to me. You belong to me, Valentina. You don’t have to like it, but you need to remember it.”

I swipe my thumb over her clit roughly, and she moans. There’s something so fucking sexy about seeing her this way. At last, it feels like she’s truly mine. “What would all of our employees think if they saw their precious Ice Queen with her legs spread wide on my desk, your skirt around your waist and your tights torn? What would Theo think if he saw how you’re riding my hand, how desperate I’ve got you? Perhaps I should show him, so he’ll realize that he doesn’t stand a fucking chance. Should I make those windows transparent?”

“No,” she moans, even as she pushes her hips up against me harder, chasing her orgasm. “Luca, you can’t.”

I chuckle, intensely fucking pleased by the sight she’s presenting me with. “Don’t worry, my love,” I murmur. “This sight is for my eyes only. No one else’s.”

Her pants come quicker, and I speed up my movements, getting her right to the edge. “Do you want to come for me, wife?”

She nods and yanks on my suit jacket, bringing me closer. I chuckle as my gaze drops to her lips.

“Tell me you’ll keep your distance from that fucker, and I’ll consider letting you come.”

Valentina nods, her eyes glazed over with desire. “I will, Luca. I swear.” I’ve never seen her so desperate, so fucking honest about her feelings. Watching her fall apart for me is rapidly becoming my latest addiction.

“Good girl,” I whisper. “You’re such a fucking good girl, Valentina. You deserve a reward, baby.”

She looks at me with such desperation that my heart skips a fucking beat. This is my every fantasy come true.

No.

This is better.

“Come for me,” I tell her as I increase the intensity on her clit, taking her right over the edge.

“Luca,” she moans as her pussy swallows my fucking fingers. How is my cock supposed to survive her? I already know that I’ll never be the same again once I’ve had her. She’ll hook me and turn me into even more of a fool than she already has.

I pull my fingers away and lift them to my lips, needing a taste of her. She moans as she watches me suck down on them. “Jealous?” I whisper. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you my tongue soon enough.”

Her eyes roam over my face, and she blushes fiercely as she lifts her hand, brushing away the lipstick stains she no doubt left on me.

I take a step away from her, intensely fucking pleased. My heart was unsettled seeing her with Theo, but my worries melted away the second I heard her moan my name.

“I’m serious,” I tell her. “I don’t want to see him hovering around you like that again. Either you put him in his place, or I will.”

Valentina lowers herself off my desk and straightens out her clothes, clearly flustered. “It won’t happen again,” she tells me before throwing me a sweet, reassuring smile. There’s a hint of shyness in her expression, and the way that makes my heart race is unreal.

It’s fun watching my wife fight for composure — almost as fun as making her lose it. Two minutes. That’s all it takes for her to paste that irritating professional smile back onto her face.

“This came for you,” she says eventually, reaching for the parcel she brought in, her hands trembling. It’s clear she’s back in work-mode, and I’d better follow suit before I anger her.

I take my time opening the box, a smile finding its way onto my lips as the contents come into view. I hand her the documents, and she stares at them wide-eyed.

“New passport and driver’s license,” I explain. Just seeing the name Valentina Windsor on them brings me such fucking joy. “And this,” I add, handing her a black credit card with the Windsor crest on it, “is a duplicate of my own credit card.” That too, says Valentina Windsor. “For as long as you’re married to me, you’re welcome to spend however much you’d like, on whatever the hell you want.”

She stares at the card, her expression unreadable. “You might want to hide our marriage, Valentina, and I may have consented to that, but you are my wife, and you’d better remember it. In private, you’re Valentina Windsor. Just because we agreed that our marriage would be temporary, doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Don’t you ever forget that.”

She nods and clutches her new passport to her chest. I’d give the world to know what she’s thinking right now. Countless women would do anything to take my last name, to be my wife. Yet the woman I actually married looks less than thrilled.