"𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐢 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤..."
𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐳
I grab onto the headboard of the bed, his cock deep inside of me as I moan out loud. He thrusts into me, not giving me a moment to breath from the pleasure amounting. He leans over me, grabbing my breasts as he fucks me. My hand reaches out for the back of his head as it digs through his hair.
I feel his breathing vibrating on my shoulder, "Vincent! Fuck! Fuck!" I scream out, he pushes my face into the covers, my ass in the air as he slaps his rough hand against it. I grab the sheets and he wraps his hand around my hair before fucking me.
"Fuck Clara." He groans, grabbing my waist as he pounds into me.
I release all over his cock, and he continues to fuck me until he joins me.
One week in our honeymoon, and we've been fucking day and night.
He slid off the bed, and I leaned back against the headboard, pulling the crumpled sheets up to cover my naked body. My fingers found the red wine on the bedside table, and I took a long sip.
We both surveyed the aftermath of our passionate but tumultuous night—the broken vases, shattered glasses, and empty bottles of vodka and whiskey scattered around the room. It was a scene of chaos we had jointly created.
I arched my back, stretching my lithe form, as Vincent pulled on his boxers. "Where are you going?" I inquired with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
"To have breakfast," he replied, his tone mirroring mine, laden with the mixture of affection and irritation that had become our signature.
I rolled my eyes.
"Ah, how foolish of me to assume you'd want to share a meal with your loving wife."
"Loving? Don't stretch it Clara." His lips twitched, a barely-contained smirk betraying his amusement. "Now we need to stop breaking things."
I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of the wine as I regarded the chaos we had caused. "Well, it's not every day we get to redecorate."
He shot me a dry look. "I must admit, your taste in interior design is... unique."
I shrugged, a smirk playing on my lips. "Some people appreciate the avant-garde."
Vincent scoffed, sliding a shirt over his shoulders. "Avant-garde or not, we need to stop breaking shit before someone thinks we've declared war."
I chuckled, admiring the way his muscles moved beneath his skin. "Ah, always the voice of reason, aren't you?"
He shot me a pointed look. "Someone has to be in this relationship."
I scoffed, tossing a pillow his way. "Lucky me, to have you as my guiding light."
He caught the pillow, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. "Consider it my contribution to your chaotic masterpiece."
I smirked back at him, taking another sip of the wine. "Well, Vincent, if this is what you call chaos, I can't wait to see what you consider normal." He walks out of the bedroom, and I sigh before turning my head towards the balcony.
A gentle knock on the hotel room door broke the silence. I let out a small groan and sat up, sheets wrapped around my body. "Come in!" I called out as I rose from the bed. The door opened to reveal a maid with her trolley of cleaning supplies.
I offered an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about the mess—again."
The maid returned my smile. "Don't worry. I think we're used to it now."
I headed into the bathroom to freshen up, shower and then carefully fix my hair by straightening it before slipping into a red thong and a white summer dress that cinched perfectly at the waist, its flowing fabric hinting at the carefree aura of the day. I added a pair of pink heels and grabbed my book before heading out of the bathroom and eventually the hotel room.
The breakfast area awaited me outside, where Vincent was engrossed in paperwork. I pulled out the chair across from him, settling down gracefully.
Without a word, a plate was set in front of me, accompanied by a glass of red wine. I flipped open my book, allowing the gentle breeze to sweep strands of hair away from my shoulders as I settled into my seat.
I took a leisurely sip of my wine, crossing one leg over the other, feeling his eyes on me even before I looked up from my book. His intense gaze remained fixed on me for a moment before returning to his work.
I couldn't help but smile behind the pages, knowing the effect I had on him.
Closing my book, I rested it gently on the table. "When I was twelve, you were twenty-four," I mused, my tone casual.
A flash of irritation crossed Vincent's features, and he muttered through gritted teeth, "Why the hell did you have to say that?"
I leaned back in my chair, a sly grin dancing on my lips. "I just thought it might be an interesting conversation starter, darling."
Vincent's irritation didn't subside, but it seemed to simmer beneath the surface as he cast me a sideways glance. "You know, I thought you'd be more interested in discussing your latest shoe purchase."
I chuckled, enjoying the banter despite our mutual dislike.
He slide over a bill and my eyes widen.
"Oh that is bad." I settle the paper down, "what happened to not having a limit?"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I don't have a limit love, but who buys the same shoe in the same colour fourteen times."
"I was pissed off with you. Being forced into a marriage with a man I barely know. It's practically Shakespearean, don't you think?"
"It's a contract marriage."
I raised an eyebrow, the sly grin never leaving my lips. "So, it's a marriage of convenience, then? How romantic."
Vincent's gaze flickered, his eyes softening for a moment before the hard mask of control settled back into place. "Romance has no place in our world, Clara. It's about power, survival, and money. This is the world we live in, a world we have to accept."
"I accepted it the moment I bought those shoes." I speak, taking a bite out of my food.
He nods his head and leans back into his seat, sipping onto his whiskey.
I leaned in closer, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do you miss him?"
Vincent's eyes flicked to mine, his expression unreadable. "Miss who?"
"Roman..."
"I think my feelings are none of your business, Miss Saint-"
"Mrs. Kovak, I am your wife, Vincent."
He paused, his gaze hardening as he met my eyes. "To fuck and have a child with. You have no right to my feelings or anything else."
A heavy silence settled between us, and I felt a pang of heartache that I couldn't hide. His words were like a dagger through my heart. "So, I'm just your toy?"
Vincent's voice remained cold, his demeanor unyielding. "Yes, you are. Just a toy. For me to fuck."
The words hung in the air, and I couldn't help but feel a sharp ache in my chest.
My marriage to Vincent was a transaction, a duty, and nothing more. The reminder of that fact stung more than I cared to admit, and I couldn't help but wish for something more, even in the midst of our shared disdain.
I grab my wine before spilling it all over him, he shoots up-his crisp suit now stained with my red wine. He wipes his face and glares at me angrily.
"Very well, I'll leave you be, Mr Kovak" I retorted, my tone sharp and laced with bitterness. "Call me when you want to engage in our next bout of marital duties."
With that, I pushed my chair back and stood, lifting my book from the table. Without another word, I left the breakfast room, the door clicking shut behind me, leaving behind the tension and unresolved emotions that seemed to define our complicated relationship.
Niko stops by me, "everything okay?"
"Yes, everything is fine." I nod my head, walking away.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫: 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 :( 𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭.
𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞! 𝐓𝐚𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!