My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(37)

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 fa?ade, 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.”