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15 | Clara Saint

"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.