Page 50 of The Worst Pucking Deal

She eyes the box like it’s toxic. “It better not be—”

Throwing his head back, Remus lets out a booming laugh. “It’s not. Christ, cousin, what do you take me for?” When Lucia glares at him, he chuckles. “Don’t answer that. Just believe it’s not what you think it is.”

Taking the box, Lucia opens it with shaking fingers. Inside it is a small gold band. As she holds it up, the letters S.P.Q.R. glint in the light from where they’re engraved into the jewelry. “Thank you,” she says, bowing and doing that weird thing with her hand again.

“Senatus Populusque Romanus,” Remus says, and Lucia replies, saying the same words.

Like last time she said them, her accent changes completely, making it sound foreign. Remus pronounced the words the same way, coated heavily with the exact same accent. Hmm.

“Right, I’m gonna go find my fuck for the night,” Mickey says, classy as always. “This has been… not a pleasure.”

Soren laughs as he follows him, leaving me alone with Lucia and her cousin. “I’m off as well. You two should go… consummate the marriage,” Remus says, grinning.

I roll my eyes, but shake his hand and thank him for coming here. I still can’t believe I’m married, or that it’s a secret. If I’d known how exciting it would feel, I might have made a habit out of it just to feel the thrill coursing through my veins right now.

“We should leave,” Lucia says, looking down at the wedding band with lust in her eyes.

My dick wakes up, loving her sultry tone. “We should,” I agree. “I’ve never had a wife before so this should be interesting.”

Sawyer

With my arm slung over Lucia’s shoulder and hers wrapped around my middle, we make our way out of the club. Neither of us pay attention to the cameras and reporters as we get into the car Remus promised would take us back to my place.

The drive back to my place with Lucia is filled with silence, it’s a palpable presence, like a living, breathing pulse that seems to grow stronger with each passing moment. Glancing over at Lucia, I can’t help but notice the way the streetlights cast shadows across her features, illuminating her in a soft glow.

After getting out of the car, I take her hand and drag her over to the elevator. The doors barely manage to slide close before I have her off the ground and pinned against the wall. Her legs wrap around my waist, and she moves her hands under my shirt and practically claws at me.

“Sawyer.” My name is like a prayer.

My lips descend on hers again. I waste no time sliding my tongue into her mouth, stroking hers while we both pant. My dick is throbbing in my suit pants, and I grind myself hard against her cunt. It’s taking all my self control not to rip her clothes off right now and bury myself in her tight heat.

We stumble out of the elevator when it reaches my apartment. Well, I’m the one doing the stumbling since I’m carrying Lucia, who refuses to stop kissing me. At the back of my mind, I remind myself this is a one-off. It’s only because it’s game night, and because we got married, and because I really need to fuck her.

“Fuck. You’re kissing me like you want to consume me,” I groan.

“You caught me,” she purrs, undulating her hips. “That’s my master plan. Now shut up and kiss me back.” This bossy, take-charge side of her is so fucking hot I groan into her mouth.

Reaching my bedroom, I set her down on her feet and loosen my tie. “What do you want, Lucia?” My tone is gruff.

I continue to undress while she looks up at me through hooded eyes. Then she kicks off her shoes and undoes her pants, pulling them down her long legs. Her thong is next to go, and she doesn’t break eye contact.

“Leave the shirt thingy on,” I rasp when she reaches for the hem.

“Oh, this old thing?” she pulls at it and does a little twirl so I can take it in from the back as well. “Yeah, I guess I can keep it on.”

Fuck, it looks good on her, and I might just fuck her while she’s wearing it.

Her eyes fall to the outline of my erection, and the way she licks her lips makes it grow harder. “Come over here and undress me,” I rasp.

Lucia hums when she reaches me, her hands going straight to my suit jacket. She painfully slowly pops each button before reaching up and pushing it off my shoulders. While I shrug it all the way off, she repeats the motions with my shirt. Her movements grow more and more impatient, making me smirk.

When she finally reaches my belt, she hums as she tugs it through the loops on my pants. Then she drops to her knees, looking up at me. “I want this,” she pants, answering my question from earlier.

Shaking my head, I grab her shoulders and pull her back up. “No,” I say, sternly.

“Why?” The incredulous look on her face makes me smirk down at her.

“I think we need to talk about boundaries.” I slowly open my pants, tug them down, and get rid of my socks. Leaving my boxer briefs on. “You like sucking cock, don’t you?”

---