My Dark Romeo: Chapter 20

At the very least, I could rest easy knowing my husband’s lack of civility extended to others, too.

Jared pulled in front of the mansion near midnight. My future husband unfastened his seat belt, his face still buried in his phone screen, reading an article on Forbes Money.

“Jared,” Romeo snarled, touching the door handle. “Stick around. I’ll head to the penthouse in about an hour.”

No please.

No thank you.

And, I realized, this poor excuse for a man, who had just confessed to being in love with his ex, expected me to perform oral sex on him before he retired to his bachelor pad.

As a reward for my good behavior, no less.

I could inform him he was wrong…or I could teach him I was more than an innocent little fawn and scare him off until the wedding.

For the first time in my life, I chose education.

We made our way to the door. Silence hummed between us like a dramatic backing track.

He opened it, letting me walk in first. “Your posture was weak, but otherwise, you performed well.”

His version of a compliment, I guessed.

No wonder Morgan had dumped him. The man was as warm as Uranus.

I kept silent, focused on storming up to my room without stabbing him. A win in my book.

He followed one step behind.

“Actually.” I turned, placing a hand on his chest.

His pecs flexed beneath his Eton dress shirt. He appeared mildly aware of my existence for a change.

“Could you bring some whipped cream from downstairs?” I bit my bottom lip. “I’ve always had this fantasy…”

His expression clouded. “No.”

“Romeo, O, Romeo.” I knotted my arms over his shoulders, pressing my body against his. He was hard everywhere. And I meant everywhere. Poor Morgan might’ve had his heart, but his cock, it appeared, was community property. “That’s my dream.”

He peeled my arms off him. “Find a better one.”

Plastering on my longing, purest gaze that always got Daddy to bend for my will, I whispered, “It’s my first…experience.”

That seemed to do the trick.

“It might just be your last if you continue acting like a brat.” He turned, trampling his way down to the kitchen.

Holy crap.

He was doing it.

Momma was right. Men are more basic than a little black dress.

I hurried to my room, slipping into a soft-pink lingerie nightgown with crisscross satin bows wrapped around my chest.

Thank you, Cara, for pimping my ride.

Romeo appeared a few minutes later, a whipped cream can in his hand. It was beyond comical to see the most stuck-up, serious man I’d ever come across holding something so…random.

His eyes raked down my body. “Cara bought you this?”

“Yes.” I forced out a smile. “Do you like it?”

“I’ll like it more when it’s in tatters on the floor.” He pushed the whipped cream into my hands. “On your knees. Now, Miss Townsend.”

“Can you…get undressed first?” I swallowed, feigning shyness. “I’ve never been completely naked in front of a man before.”

“Full nudity won’t be necessary for what I have in mind for you.”

A scream lodged in my throat.

Selfish bastard.

His ego needed its own zip code, a talk show, and a harem of agents.

“Just…just lie in my bed, all right?” I ground out.

“I’d rather do this standing up.”

“If you don’t indulge me at all, I’d rather not do it altogether,” I snapped. Then, to conceal my plan, I gentled my approach. “Everything we’ve done so far has been on your terms. This is important to me. I need to feel like I have a say, too.”

Romeo frowned, weighing my words, finally complying. “Take advantage of my goodwill, and I assure you—you’ll be reminded I lack it altogether.”

With wobbly knees, I waited until he flattened against my mattress before I mounted him, straddling his narrow waist.

He stared up at me, indifference making room for a glint of desire in his fog-colored eyes.

“It’s all so new and foreign to me.” I licked my lips, feeling myself blush, because this wasn’t actually a lie. I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with shaky fingers.

“I said I won’t undress.”

“I’ll get undressed, too. I promise.”

I got stuck on his custom RF cufflinks. He took over, removing them with an impatient snarl.

I hesitated. “I hope I won’t disappoint you.”

“While I’m not a fan of your personality, I’d pay good money to watch you sit and breathe,” he admitted, his voice roughening. “All you have to do is be alive for me to get a hard-on, so don’t worry your pretty head about underperforming.”

Sadly, that was the sweetest thing he’d ever said to me.

His shirt feathered to the floor, exposing his sculpted upper body. My fingertips tingled, begging to run over his work-of-art abs. All smooth tan skin, bulging six-pack, perfect pecs, and lean muscles.

The veins running down his biceps and forearms told the story of a man who kept himself in brilliant shape. I was also acutely aware of how easily he could crush me with his strength should he wish to.

I licked my lips, allowing my hands to roam his chest down to his belly button. “Lord,” I breathed out. “You’re beautiful.”

He caught my wrist between his fingers when my hand was halfway down the path to his pants.

His eyes bore into mine. “If you sit on my face and let me eat you out through your nightgown, I’ll buy you the Astor Opera House.”

The sentence didn’t fully register for the first fifteen seconds.

This didn’t sound like him at all. The possessive tone. The carnal urgency in his usually shark-dead eyes.

“Uh…what?”

“I’ll buy it for you.” He didn’t blink, my wrist still clasped in his hand. “You’ll be able to do as you please with it. Cancel the annual debutante ball. Burn it down to the ground. Flatten it and build a tacky strip mall instead as payback for the way Chapel Falls judged you the night of the ball. The entire town will know your husband bought you the place just because you fancied it.”

My eyes flared, heart wedged in my throat. The man was dead serious. He obviously wasn’t playing with a full deck, as Daddy said.

No point in reminding him he was the reason I was now a social pariah.

“The Astor Opera House isn’t for sale,” I said once I found my voice. “It belongs to my daddy’s friend, Paul Dunn—”

“Everything is for sale if you offer over value. Test the theory yourself. Sit on my face, Dallas, and I’ll give you anything you desire. I’ll buy you that Japanese cookie factory if you let me feast on your juices.”

I eyed him curiously, thrill coursing through my veins. My sexuality held potent power over him once he let his guard down. Which had only happened once so far.

“But you’d go back to your penthouse afterwards? After we…”

“Yes.” Remembering himself, he released my hand as if it were fire. “Don’t confuse lust with like. Lust is an urge. Like is a sentiment. I hold no sentiments toward you.”

I planted my hand over the hem of his pants. “Then I’d rather do things my way.”

This time, I didn’t fumble.

I rolled his zipper down all the way and sat on my knees as he pushed his cigar slacks down.

His black briefs came into view. Givenchy waistband. The man was so rich, I suspected he wiped his butt with Egyptian silk sheets.

The outline of his cock made my mouth water. For a second, I genuinely considered having a brief taste.

It was long and thick, the shape of its perfect engorged crown obvious through the luxurious fabric.

Funny how all my married friends told me penises were a sore sight for the eyes. I found my fiancé’s penis pretty attractive.

Its only downfall was that it was attached to a prick.

“Shortbread.” His tone held a warning.

“Hmm?”

“Tit for tat. Lose your top before I do it for you.”

Tearing my glare from his cock, I unfastened the pink satin ribbons, which kept my modesty intact. His eyes alighted with desire as the two ribbons fell to his chest.

He grabbed me by the waist, hoisted me in the air, and pulled me down so my entrance pushed against his clothed cock, dragging me along his length with a pained hiss.

My head spun with stupid yearning and adrenaline. Time to act before I drowned in sweet temptation and gave him what he wanted.

The only thing he wanted from me.

I picked up a bow and reached to plaster his wrist against my bed’s poster behind his head.

“I want to explore you first. I’ve never touched a man before.”

No longer tied together by the flimsy strings, my breasts hung out of my nightgown, full and round, dangling from side to side as I quickly tied his wrist to the headboard.

“I will not be tied down.”

“Oh, please.” I dipped one of my nipples into his mouth, knowing he’d catch and suck on it. “I’ll probably butcher the job. Humor me.”

Romeo was so laser-focused on watching my tits pendulum, trying to catch a rosy-peaked nipple between his teeth when I bent down, that he let me tie his left wrist to the pole.

“You do have the tendency to make a mess of things,” he muttered around my tit, licking it. Tremors ran through me.

“Now the other hand.”

I bent lower, my stomach flat against his hard chest as I tied his other wrist securely to my bed. He clasped his hot, wet lips around my nipple and sucked almost all of my breast into his mouth.

I shuddered at his warmth, my palms dropping to his shoulders. The nightgown was damp between my legs.

I felt empty. Mad with need.

I ran my fingers through his thick, inky hair, dropping my head back with a moan. His teeth scraped my nipple at the same time his tongue swirled its tip.

I rocked back and forth against his cock, knowing I left stains of my desire all over his briefs.

“The things I’m going to do to you, Shortbread…”

My nickname kicked me back into reality.

I remembered his words from the debutante ball.

Ruined by shortbread.

Squaring my shoulders, I pulled away, swinging my legs and standing up beside the bed.

Romeo tried to pull himself up, his magnificent abs contracting, when he comprehended that I’d tied him to my bed with a triple-knot from each side.

His head dropped to my pillows.

He arched a dark brow, perfectly calm and collected. “Mind the whipped cream, Miss Townsend. I loathe dirt and messes, and judging by your clumsiness, your aiming skills leave a lot to be desired.”

Dropping the façade, I rolled my eyes and tugged at the tied ribbon chaining him to my bed to ensure it stayed in place. “No wonder Morgan dumped you. As a partner, you stink worse than the inside of a teenager’s ball cap.”

He opened his mouth, about to say something, but I showed him I didn’t really care by turning and picking up the whipped cream spray from the credenza.

I swaggered to him, dangling my hips seductively. My breasts were still completely exposed, but somehow, I didn’t feel self-conscious at all.

The man treated my looks as if they were my flaw—taking me against my will.

Well, now I’d turned my weakness into my strength.

I noticed a few scars on the sides of his rib cage. Old and pink against his tan skin and pretty major. Curiosity nipped at my throat, but knew if I ever asked, he’d bite my head off.

Romeo’s expression darkened. “Don’t try me, Shortbread.”

“Why not? It’s not like you ever held back on punishing me before.”

I shot him a sugary smile, reached for his waistband, and pulled it down in one go. His dick sprung out, heavy, pulsating, and engorged.

That thing was huge.

He wanted it in my mouth? I’d hardly be able to fit the thing into my suitcase.

Maybe Morgan had broken things off because he’d sprained her jaw with it. Welcoming such a thing into your vagina seemed akin to giving birth to a full-size German shepherd.

“Oh, I forgot to mention.” I shook the can in my hand, watching my future husband try to jerk his wrists free, writhing like a caged beast. “I was in the Scouts my entire childhood. Side effect of being raised a goody two-shoes. I know how to bond all seven knots by heart, blindfolded, with a hand tied behind my back. No pun intended, of course.”

I winked.

His eyes tapered.

He lurched even harder, shaking the entire bed. The satin ribbons dug into his flesh, creating angry red bracelets on his skin.

“Why do you chew gum all the time?” I demanded, standing a safe length away from him.

His jaw locked.

“Answer me, and I might spare you,” I lied.

“You won’t. And even if you did, I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“It’s an obsession.”

“A coping mechanism,” he corrected.

“Like the silence in your house. Your idea of heaven is most people’s hell.”

“Hell gets a bad rep. Sunny all year round, plenty of interesting neighbors, and no Sunday church.”

He was picking a fight with a religion now? The man truly was headed to the nadir of the cosmos.

Without further discussion, I aimed the nozzle at his junk and pushed, spraying a thick, fluffy cloud of whipped cream on his cock and balls.

The chill made his skin rise with goose bumps. He sucked in a hiss.

Romeo glared at me with murder in his eyes. “You’ve had your fun. Now untie me or face grave consequences.”

I freed a laugh.

“You blackmailed me into marriage, annihilated my reputation, and ruined my relationship with my father. What more can you do?” I aimed the nozzle at his chest, coating each of his nipples with the white fluff, then drawing a smiley face on his abs. “Aw. You look adorable. I cannot wait for Hettie or Vernon to find you like this.”

His brows shot up to his forehead. “If you don’t free me right now, Dallas—”

“Freedom isn’t free, buddy. You’re the one who taught me that lesson. That credit card you gave me is going to come in handy tonight.” I swiveled, grabbed a dress he’d bought me from the floor, and slipped it on. “I’m going to spend tonight in a hotel. Order some room service. Maybe dessert. I didn’t even have an appetite when we visited your parents.”

I approached him and set the can in his bound hand, leaning to whisper in his ear.

“Ruined by whipped cream.” I tsked, just the way he had the night we’d met. “How the mighty have fallen.”

There was a spring in my step when I strode to the door, knowing Romeo would stay right where I’d left him, naked and covered with sticky goo, until morning rose and his staff trickled into his mansion.

Before I left, I bent my knees in a mock bow, imitating his grandiose manner of speech, down to the high-brow Potomac accent. “Perhaps we shall reconvene in the next century, Lord Costa. Or the one after that.”

He didn’t answer.

Tough crowd.

I just knew this moment would come up on my Judgment Day.