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i’m so tired of being told that what female fans want in men’s sports is more fashion and champagne and over the top displays of wealth and wag content when really what women want is, like, a sport where the managers and players and marketers and male fans aren’t raging misogynists
Sworn to Silence ughh I love it! Needs to be a part 3/short series plzzzz 🙌🏼
Sworn to Silence part 3
🐺 main masterlist | Enemies on Track, Lovers at Home
PART1 | PART2 | PART3
Toto Wolff x Wife!TeamPrincipalFerrari!Reader
Summary: After six days of silence and one painful reconciliation in Brackley, you and Toto finally come home to Monaco together. The twins are waiting with hugs, burnt muffins, and enough love to crack both of you open. Later, when the house goes quiet, you try to meet Toto with softness, lace, and a little courage — because healing can start with words, but sometimes it needs touch too.
Warnings: angst recovery, family fluff, children sensing tension, emotional and soft!Toto, married couple, lingerie, teasing, light smut, comfort after conflict.
Word count: 3.5k
a/n: here you go — part 3, final one for this story!
The drive from the airport to the apartment is quiet.
Not cold this time, only quiet. There is a difference, and after the last six days, you know that difference like a bruise knows pressure.
Toto sits beside you in the back seat, one hand resting over yours between you. His thumb moves slowly across your knuckles, over and over, like he is still reminding himself that you are there. That you came to Brackley. That you fought through the silence instead of letting it swallow you both.
You look down at your joined hands.
His wedding ring catches the passing light.
Your throat tightens again, which is ridiculous because you have already cried enough this week to personally refill the Monaco harbor.
“You’re quiet,” he says.
You glance at him. “So are you.”
“I’m thinking.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
His mouth twitches faintly. There it is. Small, tired, but real.
You hold onto it like oxygen.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask.
He looks out the window for a moment. Then back at you. “The children.”
Your chest softens immediately. “They’ll be happy you’re home.”
His fingers tighten around yours. “I should have come sooner.”
You don’t answer quickly. Part of you wants to say yes. Part of you wants to soothe him.
Both feel too easy.
So you choose honesty. “They missed you,” you say softly. “And they knew something was wrong.”
He closes his eyes for a second. Pain crosses his face before he can hide it. “I know.”
“Toto…”
“I know,” he repeats, quieter.
His thumb stills against your hand.
You turn slightly toward him. “They’re not angry.”
His jaw moves. “No. Children do worse things.”
You frown. “What?”
“They wait,” he says, voice rough. “They wait for you to come back and still love you like nothing happened.”
That breaks something tender inside you.
You reach up, touching his cheek. He leans into it for half a second.
“We’re going home,” you whisper.
His eyes open. “Yes.”
Then he lifts your hand and kisses your knuckles.
Not as a grand gesture. As an apology he is still learning how to say without reopening the wound.
*
The apartment door opens before either of you can use a key.
Luna is there first. Standing in the doorway in socks, hair tied messily, face serious in a way that makes her look too much like Toto for your emotional stability.
Behind her, Luca appears with flour on his cheek. Flour.
That is immediately suspicious.
For one second, nobody moves.
Then Luna’s face crumples. “Papa.”
Toto drops his bag. He is on his knees before she reaches him.
Luna crashes into his chest with a tiny, wounded sound, and Luca follows a second later, throwing himself at Toto so hard that your husband rocks back slightly on his heels.
He wraps both arms around them. Tight. So tight.
His head bows over them, his cheek pressed to Luna’s hair, one hand spread over Luca’s back.
You stand there with your bag still over your shoulder and feel your eyes burn instantly. Because Toto is strong in ways that make people listen when he speaks.
But this? This is the kind of strong that hurts to watch. The kind where he holds his children like he has been missing air.
“I’m here,” he murmurs. “I’m here, meine Lieben.”
Luca’s voice is muffled against his shirt. “You were gone forever.”
Toto’s eyes close. “I know.”
“That was rude,” Luna says, still clinging to him.
A breathless laugh escapes you.
Toto huffs softly, one arm tightening around her.
“Yes,” he says. “It was.”
Luna pulls back just enough to look at him. “Don’t do that again.”
He looks at her for a long second. Then he nods. “I’ll try not to.”
“Trying is not a plan,” she says.
You press your lips together.
Toto looks briefly over her head at you. Even through the ache, his expression says it clearly. Your daughter.
You raise an eyebrow. Our daughter.
Luca finally looks up. “Are you and Mama okay?”
The question lands softly. Too softly. A question a child asks when they already understand more than you want them to.
You walk closer and crouch beside them. Toto’s arm opens without thought, and you fit into the space beside the twins, one hand on Luna’s back, the other on Luca’s shoulder.
“We’re okay,” you say.
Luca looks at Toto for confirmation.
Toto swallows once. Then says, “We had to talk.”
Luna narrows her eyes. “With scary voices?”
You inhale. Toto looks at you. Then both of you answer at the same time. “A little.”
Luca sighs like a tired therapist trapped in an eight-year-old body. “Adults are complicated.”
“Very,” Toto says.
Luna studies you both, then nods once. “Okay. We made muffins.”
You blink. Toto freezes.
“You made what?”
“Muffins,” Luca says proudly.
“With help,” Luna adds.
You glance toward the kitchen.
There is a smell. Not exactly burning. More like something survived a fire but has chosen not to discuss it.
Toto slowly turns his head toward you.
You whisper, “Be brave.”
*
The muffins are on the counter. Twelve of them.
At least, you assume there are twelve.
Some have merged into one larger geological structure. One looks like it fought a spoon and lost. Two are definitely darker than the others. One has a suspicious crater in the middle.
The nanny stands near the coffee machine with the expression of a woman who has witnessed things.
“They insisted,” she says quietly.
Luna climbs onto a stool. “They are reconciliation muffins.”
Toto stops dead.
You nearly drop your handbag. “They’re what?” you ask.
Luca nods solemnly. “Because you and Papa had work sadness.”
Luna corrects him. “Marriage sadness.”
“Luna,” you whisper.
“What? It’s true.”
Toto’s face changes.
You see it happen. The last bit of control he carried in from Brackley cracks straight through.
He looks down at the muffins, then at the children, then away for a second.
Too late. You already see the shine in his eyes.
And that undoes you. Your own tears come fast, silent.
“Oh, my loves,” you whisper.
Luca frowns, alarmed. “Why are you crying? Are they that bad?”
Toto lets out a broken little laugh. “No,” he says quickly, voice rough. “No. They are perfect.”
Luna looks suspicious. “They are a bit burnt.”
“They are perfect,” Toto repeats.
Then he picks one up. The darkest one. Because of course he does.
You stare at him. “Toto.”
He looks at you with heroic determination.
“I have survived Ferrari strategy calls.”
“Excuse me.”
“I can survive one muffin.”
Luca beams.
Toto takes a bite. There is a pause. A long one.
His expression does something complicated.
Luna leans forward. “Well?”
Toto chews. Swallows. Then says, with the grave dignity of a man addressing the United Nations, “Very… powerful.”
You lose it. You laugh through your tears, one hand over your mouth, while Luca cheers and Luna looks deeply offended by the diplomatic wording.
“Powerful?” she repeats.
Toto nods. “Strong character.”
You wipe your face. “That means burnt.”
“It means memorable,” Toto corrects.
Luca grabs one and takes a bite.
Immediately makes a face. “Oh.”
Luna sighs. “I told you we needed less time.”
“You said more chocolate,” Luca argues.
“More chocolate is always correct.”
Toto reaches for another muffin.
You catch his wrist. “No.”
He looks at you. “For the children.”
“For your teeth.”
The nanny pretends not to laugh.
Toto allows himself to be stopped, but only because Luna climbs onto his lap a moment later and Luca wedges himself against his side.
Just like that, he is trapped. And he doesn’t seem to mind at all.
You sit across from them, watching your husband with your children clinging to him, burnt muffins between you, Monaco evening light coming through the windows.
For the first time in a week, the apartment feels like home again. Not fixed. Not untouched. But alive.
*
The rest of the evening belongs to the twins. Completely.
Toto barely gets five steps away from them before one of them attaches to him again.
Luca needs to show him a drawing. Luna needs to explain a school argument involving a pencil case, two betrayals, and one girl named Sofia who apparently has “terrible leadership skills.”
Toto listens as if he is chairing a crisis meeting.
You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching.
“Papa,” Luna says seriously, “what do you do when someone refuses to admit they are wrong?”
Toto glances at you. You narrow your eyes.
“Interesting question,” he says.
You point at him. “Careful.”
Luca looks between you both. “Is this one of the scary voice topics?”
“No,” you say.
“Yes,” Toto says at the same time.
Luna sighs. “See? Complicated.”
Later, when bedtime finally comes, both children stage a quiet but determined coup.
They want Toto to read. Only Toto.
Not because they don’t love you. Because they have six days of missing him to make up for, and children are excellent debt collectors.
You kiss them goodnight, smooth their hair, and let them pull him into the bedroom with two books, one blanket, and very clear instructions.
“One chapter,” Toto says.
“Three,” Luca answers.
“One.”
“Two and a half.”
“That is not how chapters work.”
“It is now,” Luna says.
You leave them negotiating like tiny lawyers.
By the time you reach your bedroom, your heart feels tired in a softer way.
Not the sharp exhaustion of silence. Something warmer. Something that still aches, but knows where it belongs.
You shower. Change. Then stop in front of the mirror.
For a second, you hesitate.
The lingerie had been packed days ago for no real reason except hope and maybe madness.
Black lace. Elegant. Soft. Not too much. Enough.
You put it on slowly, not because you want to seduce your way out of guilt.
That would be too easy.
And Toto would see through it in half a second.
You put it on because you want him to know you still choose him. With your body. With your softness. With your fear. With the parts of you that are tired of defending and ready to come home.
Then you sit on the edge of the bed and wait.
*
Toto comes back almost forty minutes later.
You hear his footsteps first. Slower now.
The door opens quietly.
He steps inside, closing it behind him.
“They are asleep,” he says softly. “Finally. Luca negotiated for three chapters and Luna pretended she was not listening after the second one.”
You smile. “Of course.”
He turns. Then stops. Completely.
His eyes move over you. Not quickly. Not crudely. With that stillness he gets when something hits him harder than he expected.
His hand remains on the door handle for one extra second.
Then he lets go.
“Well,” he says quietly.
Your pulse jumps. You smooth one hand over your thigh, suddenly shy.
“Hi.”
His gaze lifts to your face.
“Hi.”
A beat.
Then, because he is Toto and apparently emotional ruin has not destroyed his ability to be dry, “Is this some kind of compensation for the last week?”
You let out a breath, half laugh, half ache. “I was hoping it looked better than a legal apology.”
His mouth twitches. “Much better.”
He walks toward you slowly. The teasing is there, but gentler now. Careful around the bruised places.
When he reaches you, he doesn’t touch the lace first.
He touches your face. Thumb along your cheek. Eyes searching yours.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says.
Your throat tightens. “I know.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
He studies you for a moment longer. “What is it, then?”
You take his hand and pull him a little closer, until he is standing between your knees.
“It’s not payment,” you say softly. “And it’s not an apology instead of the real one.”
His thumb stills.
“It’s just me,” you whisper. “Wanting to be close to you.”
The air changes. All the teasing fades from his face. What remains is something rawer.
Toto exhales slowly, like the words reach somewhere the fight had left empty.
“Liebling…”
“I missed you,” you say, and your voice cracks in a way you hate but can’t stop. “I missed your voice. I missed your hands. I missed you being annoying before coffee. I missed you taking up too much space in bed.”
His eyes soften.
“I do not take up too much space.”
“You are almost two meters height and built like an emotionally unavailable wardrobe.”
The laugh catches him by surprise. A real one. Quiet, warm, tired.
And God, you needed that sound.
He leans down, resting his forehead against yours.
“I was emotionally unavailable for six days. The wardrobe part is unnecessary.”
You smile, eyes burning again. “You came back.”
His hand slides to the back of your neck.
“You came to get me.”
“I did.”
“You terrified half my reception staff.”
“They looked bored.”
He huffs softly.
Then his expression sobers. “I am still hurt,” he says quietly.
You nod. “I know.”
“And I still love you.”
Your fingers curl into his shirt. “I know that too.”
“Good.”
His lips brush yours. Not a kiss yet. A promise.
“I don’t want tonight to be about guilt,” he murmurs.
“Then don’t make it about guilt.”
“What should it be about?”
You look up at him. “Coming home.”
That is what breaks the last of his restraint.
He kisses you then. Slowly. So slowly it almost hurts.
His hands frame your face first, then slide to your shoulders, down your arms, as if he is relearning you after too many days apart.
You pull him closer. He follows.
The kiss deepens, but stays soft around the edges. No anger now. No punishment. No desperate attempt to erase what happened. Just need. And love. And the fragile relief of finding each other on the other side of a week that tried to become something bigger than you.
When he pulls back, his eyes are dark and warm. “You are beautiful,” he says.
You smile faintly. “That helps the legal apology, then?”
He gives you a look. “Do not ruin my romantic moment.”
“Sorry.”
“You are not.”
“No.”
He shakes his head, but he is smiling now. That tired, real smile you missed so much your chest aches.
Then his hand settles at your waist, warm over lace, and he lowers his voice. “Come here.”
You go easily. Because you are done standing apart.
He gathers you into him, and this time there is no hesitation. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing close, and he holds you like he has been waiting six days to remember how your body fits against his. Perfectly. Annoyingly perfectly.
You tuck your face into his neck.
For a long moment, neither of you does anything else. You just breathe.
His hand moves slowly along your spine. “I hated sleeping without you,” he admits.
You close your eyes. “I barely slept.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know everything.”
“I know enough.”
You lift your head and look at him. There is still hurt there. Still repair to do. Still conversations waiting for another day. But there is also him. Your Toto. Your impossible husband. The man who came home.
You touch his jaw. “We’ll be okay?”
He turns his face and kisses your palm. “Yes.”
The answer is immediate. Quiet. Certain.
Your breath shakes. “Promise?”
His eyes hold yours. “I promise we will work for it.”
That is better than an easy promise. More honest. More him.
So you nod. Then kiss him again.
And when he lays you down gently, when the room softens around you, when he touches you like he has all the time in the world and you answer with every part of yourself that missed him, it feels less like making up.
More like coming back. Back to warmth. Back to trust, still bruised but breathing. Back to the marriage neither of you is willing to lose.
Toto kisses you slowly after that. Not rushed. Like he wants to relearn every part of you with his mouth and hands alone.
His lips move over your skin carefully, lingering everywhere he touches — your shoulders, your stomach, the inside of your thighs. Every kiss soft enough to make your chest ache. His hands slide slowly over your body while he looks at you with that same unbearable tenderness that always ruins you a little.
Your fingers stay tangled in his hair the entire time.
Sometimes you pull him closer just because you need to feel him near.
Sometimes he lifts his eyes to yours before kissing you again, and every single look says the same thing. I’m here.
The lace disappears piece by piece beneath his hands. Slowly. Carefully.
Like he is unwrapping something precious rather than undressing you.
You shiver when his mouth finds your breasts, warm kisses followed by softer touches that make your breathing falter immediately. One of his hands slides lower, fingertips brushing gently between your thighs until a quiet sound escapes your lips before you can stop it.
“Toto…”
His mouth curves faintly against your skin. “I know, Liebling.”
He touches you slowly. Sensually. Never hurrying.
His fingers move with the kind of patience only Toto could have — deliberate, steady, completely focused on you. Every now and then he leans back up to kiss you deeply, stealing your breath before returning lower again, making you melt beneath him piece by piece.
And you do melt. Completely. Because this is not hunger sharpened by anger anymore. This is love. Soft. Deep. Intimate enough to hurt.
Your hands slide through his hair while your body arches instinctively toward him, chasing every touch, every kiss, every slow movement of his hand against you.
“Toto,” you whisper eventually, breath uneven now. “I want all of you.”
That makes something shift in his expression. Softer. Darker too.
He rises slowly above you, his eyes never leaving yours as he settles between your thighs. You open for him immediately, instinctively lifting toward him the moment you feel him there.
His hand finds yours at once.
Fingers threading together above your head. Holding on.
His other hand slides beneath your thigh, then to your hip, pulling you closer against him while your free hand curls around the back of his neck.
And when he finally moves into you, it is slow enough to steal the breath from both of you.
You gasp softly, your body already welcoming him completely, your hips lifting instinctively to meet him halfway.
“Toto…”
He exhales your name against your mouth like it means relief. Like it means home.
The rhythm between you builds slowly after that. Unhurried. Deep.
Every movement deliberate, every kiss lingering just a little longer than necessary. Forehead against forehead sometimes. Mouth against mouth other times. Quiet breaths mixing together in the dark while the city glows somewhere beyond the windows.
His thumb strokes slowly across your joined hands. Your fingers tighten in his.
Your other hand remains at the back of his neck, holding him close every time he kisses you again.
There are no sharp edges left between you now.
Only warmth. Only tension slowly building with every movement, every whispered I love you, every breathless murmur of each other’s names.
Your eyes keep finding each other.
Again.
Again.
Again.
And when the pleasure finally breaks over both of you, it happens together. Not sudden. Not wild. Just overwhelming in the softest possible way.
You feel him everywhere — close, deep, completely wrapped around you while your body trembles beneath him. His head falls into the curve of your neck with your name against his lips, his breathing uneven, your heartbeat racing hard enough that you feel it between both your bodies.
For a few long seconds neither of you moves. Just breathing. Just holding on.
Your fingers slide slowly through his hair while his lips press one last lingering kiss against your skin.
Later, you lie tangled together under the sheets, your cheek on his chest, his fingers moving through your hair.
His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear. Your leg is tangled with his.
One of his arms is wrapped tightly around your waist like he still needs the reassurance that you are really there.
You trace slow circles over his chest.
The apartment is quiet. The children sleep down the hall.
Somewhere outside, Monaco glows.
You press a kiss to his skin. “I love you,” you whisper.
His arm tightens around you. “I love you too.”
A pause. Then, softly, “And tomorrow, we are throwing away the muffins.”
You laugh into his chest, the sound tired and happy and alive. “They made them with love.”
“They made them with charcoal.”
“Toto.”
“I nearly died.”
“You did not.”
“I was brave.”
You lift your head, smiling at him. “My hero.”
He looks down at you, eyes warm, mouth curved. “Yes,” he says, brushing your hair back from your face. “Your very traumatized hero.”
You laugh again, and this time when he kisses you, it tastes like home.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Pleased to report that after a day of this i am not longer craving caper brine and my mouth is not dry as usual. There's some good suggestions in the notes too that I want to try.
-ancient roman posca: water, red or white wine vinegar, honey, salt, herbs (coriander, mint, thyme)
-switchel: water, ginger, vinegar, sweetener, lemon, salt
Finally a hand sewing tutorial on a hemline that isn't just the ladder stitch! the ladder stitch disappears when you tighten it, but it's not meant for hemlines because it breaks really easily! The overlock stitch is more stable, so it holds much longer, and it won't pucker or warp the fabric!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: Your marriage with Toto is full of fire and spice, so five months ago, after another huge fight, you ended up separated with you living in Austria and him in Monaco, not talking to each other. Susie is trying to get you back into game by luring you to the next race — Silverstone.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, teasing, baby talk, jealousy, married but separated, Susie and Paul on the scene again :)
Word count: 3.5k
A/N: this came up as a wonderful idea, but it left me struggling with the smut and overall i feel it’s kinda shitty… but anyway, I couldn’t resist ;) enjoy and let me know how you like it!
!THERE WON’T BE A PART TWO!
“But you promised, honey! Last year, you promised me that you’re gonna go with me!” Susie had you on speaker while you both drove your cars. But in your case, you were in Austria and she was in Monaco.
“Susie, you know that it’s not ideal…” you grunted, taking a turn towards the apartment complex.
“Screw your dearest husband. Put your beef aside and just enjoy the weekend. Don’t worry, I won’t let you near him.” You could hear playfulness in her voice and you hated it even more.
“You know that being near him is the last thing on this earth I would want.” Stopping the car, you took your phone and pressed it against your ear.
“Honey, you are practically addicted to the tension between you. You like to argue with him. Let’s be honest here.” She was so fucking right.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” You muttered quickly, unlocking the entrance door of your lavish apartment as you stepped in.
“Yeah right. You’re separated but you’re not divorced. And I bet you won’t be. Ever.” Her giggle made you laugh.
“I have to go, Sus.”
“No, you don’t. You just came to your pretty apartment Toto bought you as an apology for acting like a jerk and you’re perfectly content with living in Austria, his birth place. Speaks much about you, dear.”
“Austria is nice. I like it. It has nothing to do with him.” You grunted, trying to shake her off.
“Anyway. See you on the weekend. I’ll be there on Saturday, I’m expecting you. Bye.”
Putting the phone on the kitchen island, you ran a hand through your hair. It would mean you seeing Toto, your estranged husband, after almost five months that you decided to live separately after one of your last heated arguments.
Your marriage was very turbulent, but it was the spice to your romance all along.
Even though you played this stoic heroine who isn’t moved by anything in the world, you were sure you’d fold for Toto in a matter of seconds, that’s how you genuinely missed him.
But who were you to admit that?
You arrived just in time for a sprint race, everybody settled to watch it, so you could just blend into the crowd, that was what you planned, but Susie crushed your plans all along when she practically ran into your arms, squealing loudly your name.
Now the whole paddock knew that Mrs. Wolff is back.
“Sus…” you were about to scold her, but you didn’t have the heart to do so.
“You thought you’re gonna be incognito? Hah, not on my watch. Come on.” She hooked her arm around yours and she led you somewhere, fear crept up your spine, because clearly she led you towards Mercedes garage.
“Why are you doing this?” You whined weakly, frowning at her attempt to drag you there.
“That’s where all the fun is. And you need the fun. You grew into such a boring person, being locked up in that Austrian castle.” Susie gave you a joking smile, her tiny figure having so much strength to pull you into the luxurious space of the F1 royalty.
You both slid into the booth in the back, watching all the rush going on, some guests noticing and whispering.
Your eyes landed on one person you didn’t want to see. Swallowing hard with a sigh, you could feel your palms sweating, your nerves working you up.
Toto looked so good, focused as usual, his arms folded on his chest, face grumpy.
It felt like time stopped and it was just you and him in there, without anybody else around, the connection between you pulsing through the air.
Until Paul Ripke appeared beside you, pointing his phone at your face.
“Mrs. Wolff in the flesh!” He almost shouted in joy, hugging you next.
You had no time to react, trying to put up your polite smile like you did when you were around more often.
Paul put his phone to the pocket of his shorts and he faced you fully, smiling wide. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
Susie leaned over you. “You owe me, Paul. I won the bet.”
“What?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.
Paul just rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”
As you tried to understand what’s going on, you felt a heavy gaze sitting on your figure.
Only to bring your eyes to the direction to meet Toto’s.
A breath hitched in your throat, your heart almost stopped. Even though you played tough and stone cold, your insides were melting.
It was already after the sprint session and he approached the booth you were sitting in.
“Ah, the husband is on the scene.” Paul took a jab at his old friend, Toto giving him one of his stern looks.
Susie pursed her lips with a little wiggle of her brows. “Hey, Paul, would you fancy a coffee? I think we…”
“Of course, my dearest friend.” Paul nodded quickly, leaving you and Toto alone.
Your heart rang in your ears, you wanted to run, you weren’t ready to face him after that silence you put up through the last couple of months.
“…hi, Toto.” You managed to speak, straightening your back to appear more confident.
His brow twitched a little, his face indifferent. “Hello, wife.”
“So… how are you doing? I see your cars are working perfectly.” Yeah, one of your last conversations, it was over something you tried to pinpoint in the technology of the new regulations, and he of course couldn’t take it so he shot back with an insult about a woman not knowing anything about engines.
With a sharp inhale, he looked over to where Kimi and George were just standing at the cars, discussing something.
“Yeah. Very much, yeah. What about you and your personal growth? Doing yoga at sunrise? Drinking matcha while trying to understand the German language?” The corner of his mouth curled up a little.
Another one — you spoke about trying to find your course in life, being suffocated by his lifestyle.
Folding your arms over your chest, your gaze sharpened. “Matcha is awful.”
“Ah, so hot naked yoga is it then?” He was amused and he liked how you were slowly growing irritated.
“Not your business.” You barked out, grabbing your purse.
“It is. You’re my wife. I’m concerned about your activities. Because all of them are swiped off my credit card.” Toto followed your steps out of the garage, towards the hospitality.
You tried so hard to not run, your feet were constricted by your heels you decided to wear to the circuit, but he knew you, so he was patiently walking behind you with his hands in his pockets.
Somehow it infuriated you even more, it was new, he was calm and collected, enjoying teasing you.
“I’m not using your credit card.” You stumbled on those hell shoes and nearly fell but he caught you by his strong arm. A soft whimper left your throat, it was embarrassing, but he heard it.
“Liebes, we don’t have to play this game.” He was staring at you, holding you tight around your waist.
All you wanted was to climb on top of him and ride him till the next sunrise, but no, you have to be strong and not stupid.
Your hands carefully pushed him away.
“I’m not done with this break between us. I’m still mad.”
“Jesus…” Toto rolled up his eyes, sighing in frustration.
“I have to find Susie.” You huffed, turning on your heels and disappearing behind the door of the hospitality.
Evening fell on the hotel where everybody was staying that weekend, you were no exception.
Susie took you as her plus one to this dinner with the business partners that meant something for her F1 Academy.
You couldn’t quite shake that feeling of being watched. Your eyes wandered through the restaurant to finally settle on the muscular tall figure sitting in the back at the window. Toto was like a hawk. When you were staying in Austria, doing your little side quests as a wife of a wealthy businessman, he was pretty okay with that. But now you were out in the wilderness, every single man taking his time to take you in, to catch a glimpse of something that belonged to him.
You knew that look. That possessive energy radiating from him once you stepped over the line of the rules.
Wearing that dress he loved, that red one that was his favourite, with a bare back so he knew that you were unable to wear any bra underneath it. Toto also knew that you wouldn’t bother with panties, just that thin fabric wrapped around your body, delicately caressing your skin. It made his throat dry, on the other hand, you felt tightness and ache growing in your lower belly.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” You pressed a polite smile, nodding at Susie, who gave you a mischievous and knowing smirk, and you walked through the restaurant to the back, to the quiet corner where your husband sat.
“Enjoying the night, Mr. Wolff?” The alcohol pumping in your veins got you the courage you needed.
“Not exactly, Mrs…? I’m sorry, it seems that I didn’t catch your name properly.” Toto lifted his gaze, offering you a very dominant look.
“Ah, well… I’m Mrs. Wolff.” You played along, cocking your brow in amusement.
His brows shot up and he gasped surprised. “Oh? Really? What a coincidence. Is your husband around here? I bet he wouldn’t let this beauty just wander around alone.”
You almost bursted into laughter. “No, he’s not. He’s more into his shiny cars than me. What a pity.”
That was the last straw. He stood up, straightening his white buttonup shirt. “Do you want help with finding him? I’m sure he’d appreciate my assistance.”
Inhaling sharply, your eyes sized him up and down. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. He tends to get jealous.”
His fingers reached to brush the skin of your forearm, making you shiver.
“It’s okay, I’m very good at explaining.” His gaze darkened and you knew this was it.
Without any other word, he took your hand into his, gently leading you through the lobby towards the elevator.
“You don’t even know what level he’s staying at.” Your voice was now shaky with anticipation.
Toto glared at you with a smirk. “Believe me. I’m very good at guessing.”
The doors opened, letting you get in, his finger pushed the button of the VIP suites and with that you were getting up.
Standing beside, his hand brushed against yours, small lightning bolts running through your core.
Everything happened so fast that you were now standing in his suite, not knowing where to look nor what to do but you decided to walk to the huge window to see a view.
Toto unbuttoned his shirt a little, relaxing a bit, slowly moving behind you. His breath hit your neck and you sucked in a sharp breath, surprised from the sudden proximity.
“Have you finally come to your peace about me wanting to have a baby with you?”
You felt it in your bones that he’d ask. Shutting your eyes tight, you remembered your major fight that led you to draw a line to your marriage.
“You have enough kids, Toto.” Your whispered words crawled under his skin to dig deeper.
“But they’re not yours…” his nose brushed your bare shoulder, moving that spaghetti strap to the side to let it fall down your skin.
Your hand rested on the cold window, you needed some support from how he made you weak in your knees.
“Toto…”
“Shhh… imagine it… this astonishing body of yours, carrying the fruit of our love… you being so full and glowing with a piece of me. Your womb would be filled every day and night so it doesn’t remember the moment it was empty…”
Your breathing stopped for a moment at his words, the ache of your arousal getting the best of you. Of course you wanted to have a family with him. But you were scared.
“What if— what if I won’t be a good mom?” You could see a little bit of your reflection in the window.
Toto could feel your anxiety, sliding his hand around your waist, bringing his lips under your ear.
“You are a brilliant woman, liebes. You’re already a great step mom to my children. I believe you’ll be even better for your own kid.” His hand caressed your hip, you could feel the warmth of his touch, the one you missed dearly.
“You think?” Turning around to face him, he cupped your face to make you look into his eyes.
“I know that for sure.” And with that he captured your lips carefully, even though he was driven by his own need, he wanted you to give in, to let him guide you through your desires.
Your hands tugged on his shirt as you melted into the kiss, all you wanted was to see him naked again, to touch his hot skin.
Working on the buttons, you swore you ripped off some of them, finally letting the white cotton fabric fall down his arms and your breath stopped.
“Like what you see?” Toto teased you, sitting down onto the bed, gesturing for you to stand in front of him.
“You really put great work into your workout.” Your voice shaky with lust, stepping between his legs.
His fingers slowly pushed down the other of your spaghetti strap of your dress, the one that held it up on your body, the silky fabric sliding down your figure, leaving you bare in front of his eyes.
Biting his lip, his finger traced your ribs, along your chest, where your nipples hardened painfully.
“You decided to torture me…” You sighed, trembling slightly.
Toto wanted to say a million things, about how you tortured him through those months, but he decided it’s not the right time to do so, instead he placed a kiss between your breasts, moving to the right side to swirl his tongue around the brown bud, cupping your chest with his firm hands.
Your head went back with a breathy moan, you were so touch starved you didn’t even remember how it felt to be devoured by him.
Resting your hands on his shoulders for support, your breathing got harder, the slick sensation growing between your legs.
As if he could read your mind, his hand went down to cup your pussy, causing you to whimper delicately.
“Jesus christ, Toto…”
“Tell me what you want.” He teased your clit, circling it slowly, his fingers tapping your entrance, chuckling at the way you clenched at nothing already.
“It’s obvious…” You huffed, avoiding telling him what you really wanted.
He let go of your nipple with a soft pop and lifted his gaze to see your embarrassed face.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop.”
And hell, you didn't want him to stop.
“Fuck– just fuck me, Toto, please. Please.” You sounded so desperate and he loved every single one of it.
“Fuck you? Hmmm…” With a nod, his hands worked on his pants, to take them off along with his underwear and your gaze took in how hard and heavy his cock was, already leaking with precum.
“Show off…” You sighed with furrowed brows.
Toto chuckled, giving himself a few slow strokes, pulling off the foreskin to reveal the tip swollen with ache.
“Come on.” He easily lifted you off the ground to place you in his lap, your knees at his hips, he lined his cock with your wet pussy.
Your arms wrapped around him instinctively and you stared into his eyes.
“No foreplay?” you smirked.
“You don’t deserve that.” He muttered, slowly burying his size into your velvet depths.
It was too much for you, that long time without him was agonising for the stretch, he even slapped your ass a little and your hips shifted more down onto him causing you to moan louder.
“Fuck… you.”
Laughing softly at your insult, he guided your hips down, you were now full of him.
Forehead resting against his shoulder, he started to move you up and down his dick, you were whining, your mind blank.
“You are so beautiful like this. I nearly forgot how good you look drunk on my cock…” Toto gritted through his teeth, his fingers dipping into your hips, leaving bruises.
“Just fu-ck, fuck me, fuck… I…” your words came out slurred, you were unable to think, your face mirroring the despair you felt with each thrust.
“I love you, liebes. Gonna give you everything…” he grunted and flipped you onto your back on the bed.
In no time he was bottoming into you again, the way he took you was obscene, all the lewd sounds filling the room.
Suddenly he slowed down his pace, parting your legs to the point it hurt to see how you swallowed his length. His thumb found your clit, dipping it in your juices to bring you to your high with a few circles.
Your eyes went wide when you felt the knot forming in your lower belly, only to burst the moment he pressed more into your sensitive bud.
It was obvious now for everybody in the hotel, who was the one to make you cry in arousal.
Toto shifted your legs to the left side, leaning over you to be even deeper. Sweaty bodies slapping against each other, you drooled into luxurious sheets, eyes rolled into the back of your skull.
“You’re still so tight, my love. I’d have to train you back.” It was a struggle for him also, his cock twitching against your cervix, signalling that he’s about to come.
“Gonna cum, liebes, you sure you want my baby?” Toto knew you’d agree but he wanted to be sure.
Your hand gripped his forearm and you looked at him with a sharp glare full of need.
“Put that damn baby in me, Torger.”
A shiver ran down his spine at your raspy voice, the pace he picked was ruining your velvet cunt, the bed was thumping against the wall.
“You’re not gonna leave this room until you’re dripping and swollen with me…” the last word sounded like a pathetic whine, his hips halting with his dick buried deep that it almost hurt.
You swore you could feel how he was pumping in you, thick spurts of his seeds seeping into your womb.
Toto collapsed next to you, snuggling into your back while you still lay on your side.
“That was… something.” A soft chuckle rambled through his chest, his fingers running down your sweaty skin.
“It certainly was…” you hummed, exhaustion dawning onto your mind.
You lay there in the silence for a while, and then you tried to get up from the bed, only for Toto to pull you back.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To take a shower?” You gave him a confused look.
“We’re not finished yet, liebling.”
And then you noticed he was hard again and ready to take you on another crazy ride.
The very next morning you sat on the edge of the bed in your white flowy dress, all dolled up and ready, while Toto shifted on the bed with a sleepy expression.
“How did you…”
“I managed to sneak out early and I’m ready to accompany you in the paddock today.” your smile wide, eyes glowing with something he didn’t see for a long time.
“So, ready to get back on the wife's duties?” his smirk was fully on.
“It’s never a duty when I do that willingly and with love, you old man.” You pursed your lips with amusement.
“Don’t call me old…” His eyes fell to the side, a soft grunt left his chest.
“I think you have to get up soon because we don’t have much time left. You slept in.”
Toto was already on his feet, all naked from the night before and he leaned down to kiss you, his lips taking their time to taste you, and you almost lost your strength to resist him.
“Toto…” you murmured in between kisses, when his hand pressed into the crook of your neck.
“I know, I know. I’m on it. Five minutes back and already so bossy.” He muttered, but you heard him and threw a cushion at him.
Driving his old Gullwing into the sun already up, with your head resting on his lap, it was all against the rules of safety, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to be close to your husband, to bask in the moment that was completely yours only, where only you two existed.
Occasionally he stole a few glances down at you, noticing your mesmerised smile and the way our fingers mapped his veins on his arms gripping the steering wheel.
Parking the car to the spot reserved for him, he got out first, to round the car and help you out.
Reporters around were crazy, trying to take the best photo of you together. Toto even held your purse along with his bag in one hand while he held you close to him with the other.
Paul was watching it from afar with Susie, who almost spilled the coffee on her white blouse.
“I guess paradise is thriving again.” Paul snorted, capturing his own content onto his phone.
“You owe me another hundred bucks, Ripke.” Susie murmured, hiding her smirk into her coffee cup.
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