My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(59)

Romeo Costa



I am going to cut your tongue off with a butter knife next time I see you.





Ollie vB



Why a butter knife?





It’d only make things unnecessarily long and messy.





Romeo Costa



Exactly.





Ollie vB



@ZachSun, notice how he didn’t say yes or no when I asked him about sampling his bride. What do you think?





Zach Sun



Zigzagging over the edge.





Drunk.





And legless.





Ollie vB



His fall will be spectacular.





Romeo Costa



Temptation is resistible, believe it or not.





Ollie vB



That might apply to a cake. Not a woman who looks like your wife.





Is her sister still in college?





Romeo Costa



It’s been ten hours since you’ve last asked, so yes.





Ollie vB



Time drags when you’re waiting.





Zach Sun



Tell that to your prison guard when you get locked up for statutory rape.





I tramped up and down Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, chewing seven pieces of gum, almost ripping my hair off my scalp.

Why the fuck had I taunted Shortbread with that toothbrush?

The stubborn little nymph almost went along with it, too. It was a dare on my end. One that exploded in my face in spectacular fashion.

She’d managed to make me curse.

And cuddle.

Sure, I could waltz right into a pharmacy and demand a pack of condoms. Double-wrap. Then finish the pack and top it off with another.

Then another.

And when one of the hundred or so—inevitable the next time Dallas wiggled her ass in the air, welcoming me to park inside her pussy—condoms broke, TLC could add us to the cast of 19 Kids and Counting.

Hard pass.

The pill and IUD had their disadvantages. First off, I couldn’t tell her what to do with her body. Second, I’d never trust her to take the pills or keep the IUD in. She obviously wanted children.

And finally, the snip. Vasectomies only had a 99.9% success rate. Knowing my luck, I’d be in that point-one percent.

After all, I was in that percent in every other aspect—intelligence, looks, tax bracket, and so forth.

An idea formed in my head. I entertained it, stomping up and down the sidewalk.

Shortbread begged to feel it once.

Just one time with my cock in her cunt.

Not too big of an ask. I could get it over with and move on with my life.

Before I had the chance to rethink it, I returned to the hotel.

I never actually expected Dallas to fall asleep. Not after the day we’d had. But I’d underestimated my wife’s laziness.

Not only was she fast asleep, she was also snoring with a half-finished scone plastered to her chest.

I sat on the edge of the mattress, moved the scone to the nightstand, and tucked locks of her wild hair behind her ears.

Oliver was right.

She was irresistible.

Somehow beautiful, innocent, and spirited at once. As exquisite and thorny as a wild rose.

I didn’t even hesitate before shedding my shoes and pants. In just my briefs, I kneeled between her legs and nudged my nose to her slit through her underwear.

She murmured in her sleep, wiggling her ass a little. A small smile formed on her lips.

I pressed my hot tongue to her center. She gasped. The cotton dampened from both my mouth and her body catching up with my intentions.

Through the thin fabric, I fingered her and sucked on her clit, teasing her.

Her nipples puckered behind her satin top, and her eyes fluttered open.

To my great pleasure, she was still half-asleep, not fully coherent. Perhaps she’d shut up for a change.

With a soft moan, she thrust her pussy in my face. “More.”

I sucked harder on her clit, releasing the pressure. Using both my index and middle fingers, I curled them all the way inside her pussy, straining the flimsy panties and finger-fucking her at the same time.

“Mmm. Good.”

Good?

I hadn’t touched a woman in almost half a decade. Good didn’t cut it.

Shortbread’s thighs quaked, bracketing my ears. Her fingers found my hair, tugging viciously.

I went harder, rougher, latching on to one of her tits through her top and pinching her nipple. Her eyes finally popped open. She blinked at me behind a curtain of innocent lust.

For a second, I thought I could get used to this.

Then I remembered Oliver’s words about her.

An arrow of possessiveness shot through me, triggering a third finger into the mix. I taunted her clit with the tip of my tongue, circling.

She jerked forward, gliding the bud across my nose.

“Fuck!” shouted my beautiful, gently bred Southern wife. “No wonder Daddy didn’t let us date. If I knew it felt this good, I’d have had sex with every guy in my grade.”