T here were all sorts of stereotypes about hotheaded Irishmen and believe me, I’d heard them all, growing up in south Boston.

But I never took offense.

Hell, I barely even understood half the things that were said.

But right then as I took my fully clothed wife in my arms and plastered my mouth to hers with all the finesse and suavity of a conquering barbarian, I felt like a fighter who’d gone ten rounds with Satan himself.

And I was ready for another ten.

Leaving me?

Hell no.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

This marriage may have started out a business deal. But business was the farthest fucking thing from my mind as she pushed her tongue into my mouth.

Fuck.

“You taste so good, Sweetheart,” I growled, using one hand to hold her by the neck while I dragged her ivory jacket off with the other.

She looked so good. So pure and innocent. I couldn’t help it.

I wanted to dirty her up. To get her so fucking primed for me, she’d ruin her panties. So I told her as I licked into her mouth, then her jaw and neck.

I told her how fucking hot she was. Told her all the naughty things I was going to do to her.

“Liam,” she whispered my name and gasped as I tugged her pants over her hips and left them to fall into a gentle swoosh at her feet.

“Boots off, Baby,” I commanded, and she stepped out of them.

Her midnight eyes were heavy-lidded as I turned her around, facing the mirror. I wrapped one arm around her, cupping her lace-covered tits, and shoved my other hand down her matching panties.

She probably thought the full briefs were modest, but they were see-through in the most tantalizing places. Giving me sweet glimpses of her hot little pussy, and fuck me, I was leaking all over my shorts.

“Christ, you wear the sexiest fucking underwear,” I growled, parting her slick folds with my fingers.

Her mouth opened, and she panted, leaning all her weight on me.

I fucking loved it when she did that.

As if I was someone she could lean on, depend on, come to when she needed something.

I might be a prick, but I could do this. I could bring her pleasure. And I wanted to. Fuck. I needed to.

I tugged her nipples and closed my mouth over her neck, scraping my teeth over her flesh. The scent of lilacs surrounded me and I groaned as she adjusted her stance, spreading her thighs for my fingers.

“Liam, please,” she begged.

A Volkov princess was begging me , a fucking punk.

“Are you wet, Michaela? Did you soak this pussy for me, Wife?” I growled the questions.

“Please,” she whimpered, trying to flex against my still fingers.

“What? Tell me,” I said, watching her in the mirror, feeling her heat seep into my body.

She was so damn beautiful. Her hair tie had fallen out somewhere along the line, and those long chestnut locks cascaded over her shoulders in thick, glossy waves.

Eyes like obsidian flashed at me, and her pink-kissed lips parted as I tweaked her taut nipples beneath my fingers.

Her plump ass pressed against my dick, and I salivated thinking about the day I’d take her there.

I didn’t want to need her this much.

But the truth was, I didn’t think I could stop it. Not anymore.

This longing coursed through me like electricity. Charging my very body with the need to take her.

To join with her.

To make us one.

“Do you want to come, Wife? Is that what you need?”

“Yes, Liam. Please.”

“Husband. When I fuck you, you call me Husband,” I growled, spinning her around and backing her against the dresser.

I should have moved us towards the bed, but I was too far gone to care.

My wife’s cunt was dripping, and I needed to feel her convulsing on my tongue before I sank my cock into her tight heat.

“What are you—fuck,” she moaned as I sank to my knees and pulled her panties to the side, closing my mouth over her glistening sex.

“Liam!” Michaela gasped, and I slapped her ass and sucked hard, punishment for her forgetting.

“Husband—I mean, Husband,” she corrected herself and ran her fingers through my hair, tugging as I started to eat her in earnest.

I moaned at the flavor of her hitting my tastebuds as I licked and sucked and fucked her on my mouth, altering the course of my life forevermore.

No other woman had ever come close to affecting me this way. Michaela was one of a kind.

A lily among the thorns.

Or maybe a lilac , I thought and grinned as I shoved two fingers into her tight heat and lapped at her bundle of nerves.

I reared back, looking my fill at her quivering pink pussy, needing her bare.

She gasped as I tugged on her panties, ripping them at the seams, and lifting her legs so she was sitting on my shoulders and just leaning on the dresser.

“Goddamn, Baby. What a good wife. So fucking wet for your husband,” I growled, gripping her thighs and spreading her wide.

I licked her from her sweet little rosebud to her quivering clit, long, hard licks, like she was an ice cream cone on the fourth of July. I couldn’t stop for fear she’d melt right onto the floor.

It was a fucking compulsion, my need to consume her. She tasted so good. All lilacs and honey, dripping down my chin, coating my face.

“Come for me, Wife. Show me what you got,” I commanded, pulling her more firmly onto me with both hands on her plump ass so I could sink my tongue deep inside her.

“So close, oh God. Husband!” she cried out, cupping my head.

But close wasn’t good enough. My dick was so fucking hard. I felt my balls seize and was seconds away from coming myself, just from the goddamn taste of her. I didn’t need her close. I needed her there.

I hummed deep in my throat, the sound reverberating all the way to my mouth as I pressed my nose against her clit and ate her like a starving man, using lips, tongue, and teeth.

She arched above me, the sounds she was making, fuck, I wished I was recording them.

Every pant.

Every whimper.

Every gasp.

They all added fuel to the fire of this potent desire I had to make my wife come. I doubled my efforts, loving the way her thighs felt pressed against my cheeks.

So soft.

So fucking sexy.

“Oh God, I’m gonna, Husband, I’m coming,” she keened, and I moved like lightning, lowering her legs and spinning her around, so she was half laying on the dresser with her ass out towards me.

I spared no time at all, just fixed my cock to her entrance and rammed all the way in. Her orgasm spurred mine on. The feel of her slick, soft, hot pussy spasming around my shaft was too much and not enough.

I slammed into her, my hands gripping her hips so tight I was bound to leave bruises.

But I just couldn’t stop. I needed to feel every moment of her ecstasy. To share in that carnal bliss.

“Husband,” she moaned, and fuck, I felt her cunt tighten as she started to come again.

“That’s it, Baby. Suck the cum from my balls. Feel me inside you. I’m gonna fill you up with so much cum it’s gonna leak on the floor,” I snarled, driving deep again and again.

It felt so fucking good. She felt so good. The slapping sounds of our bodies coming together echoed in the bedroom. Her pants and moans, my cursing and grunts.

All of it combined to create a symphony of sex. It was loud and lewd and so goddamn hot, I wanted more of it.

Of this.

Of sex.

Of her.

No, I wasn’t giving her up or letting her walk out.

Not now. Maybe not ever.