Chapter 12
Elijah
Dinner dragged on forever. For the entire time I sat there, all I could think about was my new wife. How I desperately wanted to pick her up, carry her to our suite, and f**k her from the foyer to the goddamn porch. We should be on our honeymoon, f**k and fornicate like animals—but instead here we were at the dinner table with friends, drinking wine and pretending to be invested in the conversation while she knew my d**k was hard, and I had no doubt her p***y was wet.
Saint, the bastard, he knew what went on inside my head, purposely dragging out the conversation and making dinner longer than it had to be.
Milana and I made our way back to the table, and I noticed Saint seeming more on edge than he usually was.
I helped Milana with her chair before sitting down mysel
