Governing the She-Devil

Saint writhed in pleasure underneath his muscular body. She had no plans to voice it, but she never thought it could feel this good. Her soft moans filled their bedroom as intense pressure started to build up in her womb. "Sandro," she whispered. A few drops of sweat dripped from her forehead, partnered with soft moans from her mouth. There is no denying that she loves what they are doing. Sandro's thrust remained at a quick calculative pace; every push was rough, and every pull exuded the same confidence. She instantly lost all her inhibitions and clawed the back of the man atop her. As she felt her abdominal muscles contract, she hastily wrapped her legs around his waist and met his every thrust with a lot of enthusiasm. "I'm there," she almost screamed. Her muscles tightened more every passing second. "Let it go. I'll follow you." His voice echoed like a song to her ears. It was the first time she heard his hoarse voice. He kept silent through this ordeal. Little did she know that his voice would drive her out of her mind. Uncontrollably, Saint released her first climax as her body shuddered while still pinned down on the bed. Her release prolonged while he kept pumping. It took a couple more seconds before she felt warm liquid invade her womb. Sandro dropped on top of her while she gasped for air. That was intense. She closed her eyes, feeling his sweaty skin against her. A warm musky scent occupied her sense of smell as her lungs gasped for more air. Shortly, she felt him roll over to the other side of the bed. Saint abruptly looked around her and saw her white wedding gown draped on the floor together with her bridal lingerie. She could not help but smirk; she's married now. What more could she say? Looking back, she could not help but recall her cousin's pissed-off expression. Marrying her cousin's enemy could be her best revenge. Without covering her nakedness, she stood up and felt her legs waver, so she sat down instantly. Seeing her suitcase on the side, she grabbed it without standing and looked for her pack of cigarettes. She took one and put it between her lips before lighting it. Her stretched back faces Sandro, who is silently watching her actions. None of them uttered a single word. Halfway through her cigarette, she felt the bed move. Sandro walked towards the bathroom and ran the water into the tub. As he waited for the slow fill, he took a quick shower. "That woman is a vixen," he muttered under his breath. If not for her temptation, all this would not have happened. But her voice calling unto him echoed in his ears. Images of their escapade are now buried deep in his mind. He felt his body emitting the same heat again. To stop his thoughts, he decided to lower the water temperature. After calming down, he wrapped his lower half in a towel and took another to dry his hair. Walking back to the bedroom, he found Saint taking another cigarette from the packet. After some time, Saint gained the strength to stand up and walk toward the balcony in her naked glory. She does not care who will see her. She's on top of a high-rise building, so it doesn't matter. Her hands fiddled for another cigarette when a cold hand snatched it away. "Were you that disappointed? A single cigarette can't calm your nerves?" Sandro smashed the packet with his grip. His brows met in annoyance. "Why would I be disappointed? I married you for a reason. I even fulfilled my wifely duties a few minutes ago. Aren't you satisfied?" A menacing smile stretched her lips. She walked near him and touched his exposed chest. Their breaths mingled together. "Perhaps you want a second round?" she whispered directly into his ear before nibbling it for a second. She's obviously bluffing. She could not even feel her legs from exhaustion. Sandro stood stiff as he tried to control his raging emotions. "I filled the tub for you. It will help with the soreness," he said instead. Fighting with his wife would do no good. He at least wanted his marriage to be peaceful. Upon hearing his words, Saint felt her body ache. She would rather sleep than take a bath. But she also does not want to wake up reeking of dried sweat. Once she finished her soak, she went to the bedroom only to find Sandro gone and found her clothes folded on the couch. There was no sign of the man she spent her night with. Not as if it was a big deal. She shrugged her shoulders and decided to sleep with her wet hair. Tiredness urged her to succumb to deep sleep within a few minutes. At the hotel bar, Sandro poured another round of sparkling wine. He has only got to reflect on his decisions now. However, this is what he really needed. Marriage will assure him of winning this upcoming election. His image as a young, sought-after bachelor would only taint his rise in position. He could not let the media link him with other women, especially during elections. It's just added work to cover. Unfortunately, he does not have anyone to fulfil the position. Not that women would reject him if he offered marriage, but it would surely be a big issue, and he did not want that. Luckily, Theodore Fonseca, a long-time family friend, offered his daughter. He was not fully aware of Fonseca's daughter and had only met her twice when she was a child. But he deemed her perfect for him. Her father, after all, is a presidential candidate. It was a strong alliance. The Fonsecas are known for their politics. As for the Bardins, they came from generations of well-known attorneys. He took another sip from his glass. Strong fiery emotion flashed through his eyes as he recounted what happened a few hours ago. "I still can't believe I said 'I do'."