Keeping his bride

Luca

T

HE MUSIC AT the strip club filters through the speakers. Several of us, including Benito, a few other associates and Marco, are upstairs in the VIP section, overlooking the patrons down below. Most of the customers are drinking and throwing money at the women dancing on poles on the middle stages.

The club is big and popular. Marco makes a killing here, and I’m happy for that since I launder some of my money through his lucrative business.

“So, Luca, tell me, how is married life?” Marco asks me with a grin.

He’s sitting across from me in the lounge in a matching leather chair. Marco is my age. We grew up together and have remained friends and business associates over the years. He was born into the mafioso, same way as I, and he thrives on the lifestyle and his family’s money.

Marco runs every strip club in the city and surrounding areas. He loves the nightlife. I can only tolerate it in small doses, having gotten my fill back when I was just turning eighteen and we were hitting the clubs every single night even though we weren’t exactly of proper age.

“Word of advice,” I tell Marco as I light up a cigar, puffing on it and blowing the smoke up in the air. “Don’t ever get married.”

He chuckles heartily at my words, and everyone else in the room joins in on the laugh. We’re surrounded by friends and business associates. Benito, my second-in-command, is by my side. I offered him a drink and a cigar, but he refused both. Benito always chooses to stay level-headed, and I suppose that’s just one of the reasons why I trust him with my life.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Marco puts his forearms on his knees, leaning in towards me. “At least she’s beautiful, no?”

I nod at his statement, hiding my true feelings towards his statement. I don’t want people acknowledging my wife’s beauty. I don’t want people looking at her. Period. Just because I don’t want her doesn’t mean I want anyone else having her. And the thought of someone else touching her makes my blood pressure rise.

“Beautiful pussy in my bed every night? I wouldn’t be complaining,” Marco says before blowing out a puff of smoke from his cigar.

I stub mine out in the ashtray on the center glass table between us. “No complaints,” I say with a grin even though I haven’t fucked my wife. But I’m not willing to divulge my sexless marriage with my friends and colleagues. Let them think what they want to think.

Benito checks his watch for what must be the fifteenth time tonight. “Somewhere you need to be, Benito?” I ask him snidely.

“We missed dinner,” he mutters.

I narrow my eyes at him. Since when the fuck does he care about missing dinner?

“Are you hungry? Let’s order something from the restaurant,” Marco offers.

Benito puts up his hand. “No need.”

Marco shrugs and then turns his attention back to me. “I guess you won’t be partaking in the girls tonight, Luca, since you’re tied down now with a ball and chain.”

I chuckle as I take a swig of whiskey. “I’d never turn down pussy,” I tell him flat out.

“Well, if that’s the case…” He motions to the girls dancing in the other room, and they instantly flock to him. He whispers in a tall blonde’s ear, and she instantly struts over to me and perches on the arm of my chair.

“I know you like blondes the best,” Marco says.

Before I met Verona, my preference was always blonde. But now…I think I might be developing a thing for brunettes. Shaking that crazy thought aside, I stare up at the sexy blonde as she trails her fingertips up and down my arm. The sleeves of my black button-up shirt are rolled up my forearms, and I can see her admiring my tattoos that run the length of my arms and down to my hands.

“How about you and me go have some fun in the VIP room, sugar?” the beautiful blonde asks.

Normally, I would take her up on her offer. But I instantly shake my head. “Not tonight, doll.”

Someone makes the sound of a whip, and Marco asks, “Pussy whipped already, Luca?”

My eyes snap to meet his. He’s challenging me. And I never back down from a challenge. “Of course not,” I scoff.

Standing, I tell the blonde, “Lead the way.”

I hear a bunch of laughter and cackling behind me as the tall blonde leads me down the hallway to a private room.

She closes the door behind us, and I make my way over a leather couch. I finish off my whiskey and put the glass down on a nearby table as I watch her.

The music from the club filters through the speakers in the ceiling, and the blonde begins to move, dancing to the beat. She’s sexy as fuck, but for some unexplainable reason, I’m bored with her already.

She comes closer to me, straddling my lap and grabbing my tie. She grinds her lap against mine, but my dick doesn’t even jump at the contact.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

My initial plan was to come here and get some kind of release from the painful blue balls I’ve had ever since Verona moved in. And now my dick suddenly decides to have a mind of its own?

I close my eyes as she kisses up and down my neck, and all I can think about is Verona. Her tight little body grinding against me, begging me to fuck her. How wet she got for me when I spanked her ass.

“Mmm, hello there,” the blonde says as she grinds down on my hard cock.

My eyes snap open as I stare into the unfamiliar blue eyes. She climbs off my lap and begins stripping off her clothes. She wants to fuck, but I’m not in the mood, my dick quickly deflating.

She flashes me her pussy as she bends over the arm of the couch, baring herself to me. “I’ve been waiting for a night with the great Luca Vitale,” she purrs. “The other girls said you fuck like a stallion. Left them sore for days from your big cock.” She looks at me over her shoulder and bats her pretty blues. “They’re gonna be so jealous when I tell them I fucked you first after your wedding.”

Her words turn me right the fuck off. She wants bragging rights for getting me to cheat on my wife?

Standing, I tell her, “Get dressed. I’m not fucking you tonight.”

My words seem to stun her, and it takes a few moments for her to understand them. But eventually, she crawls off the couch. I think she’s reaching for her clothes, but instead she falls to her knees in front of me.

Before I can stop her, her hands are unbuckling my belt, unzipping my fly and reaching into my pants for my cock.

She pulls my flaccid cock out of my pants and stares at it while licking her lips. “Don’t worry. I can get you hard, baby,” she whispers before moving her mouth towards my cock.

Before her mouth can touch my cock, I quickly step back out of her range. She pouts and stares up at me with big, blue eyes.

I’m sure I could get her to beg for my cock. Hell, she would probably let me fuck every hole in her body without a condom. But for some fucked-up reason, I don’t want her.

I tuck my dick back into my pants, zipper up and buckle my belt before pulling my wallet out of my pants pocket and throwing a few hundred-dollar bills down on the table. “For your trouble,” I tell her before disappearing out of the room.

Marco and the boys are all talking and laughing when I join them.

Marco makes a show to check his big, expensive watch on his wrist. “Wow, was that a record, Luca?” he asks with a chuckle.

“What can I say? She was good,” I lie. Benito gives me an indecipherable look before I tell him, “Time to go.” I grab my suit jacket from the back of my chair and drape it over my arm. Then, to Marco, I say with a smirk,

“Apparently, we’re late for dinner.”

Marco bursts into laughter. “Remind me never to get married, boys,” he announces to the room.

Benito and I leave the club, and he drives me home. And I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what the fuck is wrong with me, but I’m relieved to be going home…to my wife.