My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(67)

I smiled. “Because Henry Plotkin’s entire series is going to look lovely with dancing flames around it when your fire theater starts.”

That wiped the satisfied pout from her face. “Lead the way.”

The journey to my bedroom passed in utter silence. Between us, at least. The house itself gushed out more noise than a BTS concert.

I closed the door, locking it for good measure. Now that we were alone, uncertainty clouded her delicate features. I got in her face, losing the remainder of my composure.

Her back flattened against my window. “Are you having a heart attack?” But the bite had fled her voice, replaced by timidness. “Seeing as you’re a neat freak and there’s a trillion people partying here.”

“Whose dress is this?” I grabbed the fabric of her garment between us, twisting it until it stretched along her smooth skin.

“Morgan’s.” She stared me down, chin tipped up. “She’s here.”

I didn’t even miss one beat. “Fat chance.”

“How do you know?”

“Because after I finished with her, I exiled her to Norway. She hasn’t set foot in the States for the past six years. She would take her own life before willingly seeking me out.”

Cold words. Delivered without an ounce of sympathy.

And still, more than what Morgan deserved.

Shortbread looked horrified. “Lord, what did you do to that poor woman?”

“Only what she deserved. Now answer my question. Whose dress is this?”

“Abby Calgman.”

Abby Calgman. One of Madison’s more prominent hookups. He often paraded her around our circles.

In fact, I suspected he genuinely liked her. I’d bet the remains of my estate and the feral wife who’d ruined it that they were still seeing each other.

“I should probably give it back to her…” Dallas swallowed. Embarrassment painted her cheeks pink, probably from the fresh memory of showing the entire party her tits and ass. “I should go.”

She tried to duck under my arm, but I crowded her more, a vicious smile playing on my face. “Why, Mrs. Costa, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to leave without a proper farewell.”

“What do you mea—”

In one smooth movement, I tore the dress from cleavage to bottom, leaving it in a two-piece mess on the hardwood planks. Dallas now wore a black strapless bra and a matching lace thong.

Her mouth hung open. “You’re insane.”

I began unbuckling my belt. If I had to waste half a work day, something good needed to come out of it.

As soon as I released my cock, heavy and engorged, all protests and venom abandoned Dallas.

She licked her lips.

“Where do you want it?” I demanded.

Her gaze traveled up, meeting mine. “Inside me.”

“Where? Specify. You have many holes, and all of them are begging to be fucked right now.”

In a rare lucid moment, it occurred to me that Shortbread would see this as a reward not a punishment, and that might come with the unintended side effect of incentivizing her poor behavior.

But it also occurred to me that, if my intractable wife did not touch my dick in the next few minutes, said dick might actually combust.

Dallas pursed her lips, refusing to play along. The woman harbored too much pride for her own good.

“Here?” I fisted my cock, running it along her slit through her panties.

She shuddered all over.

In the back of my head, I remembered her ass against the window. That some of our guests in the garden below were privy to what was happening between us.

But I couldn’t care less. I’d come to the depressing conclusion that my out-of-control young wife brought out traits in me I’d never known existed.

She tilted her chin up but didn’t answer.

“Or maybe…here?”

I grabbed her by the waist and swiveled her around, shoving her against the glass. I slid my finger into the strap of her thong and moved it aside, letting it slap against her skin.

Then I ran the crown of my cock along her ass. A moan escaped her. She arched her back to accommodate half an inch between her ass cheeks.

Still, no words.

My mouth found the shell of her ear.

I twisted my hand around her, tugging her nipple. “Perhaps you’re finally ready to return the favor for all the times I’ve eaten you out.”

Shortbread gripped the windowsill, bending halfway and pushing into me. My cock slipped through her wet cunt, making me hiss with unabashed pleasure before I pulled out.

I wanted to ram into her like my life depended on it, and she knew it.

“Foul play.” I pinched her nipple.

She gasped, the inside of her thighs still becoming wetter with her desire. “You started it.”

“Ever wonder what I taste like, Shortbread?”

“No.”

“Well, you’re about to find out.”

I turned her around again, slithering my hand between her thighs. She was soaking through her thong, rubbing against me with excitement.

Her panting made her tits bounce against my chest. I considered that she’d done all of this on purpose. With this exact reaction in mind.

And still, I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

“On your knees, Shortbread.”