“I need you to answer a few more questions.” I turned on my heel and faced her. Her fingers drew the covers under her chin, knuckles white. She hadn’t touched the vial, and it rolled on the taut material.
“About what?” Merissa breathed, looking at me with a mixture of awe and terror.
I sucked in a fortifying breath.
“About how to bed a man.”
8
Chapter 8 - Romeo
I swallowed the last dregs of fertility tea, a dark, muddy red with a cloying aftertaste. My body tingled with a jitteriness I hadn’t expected. I put the cup down, the bottom of it covered in the dark red leaves. I had barely tasted it, gulping it down in anticipation.
“You don’t need to rush,” my wife laughed, coy. “We’ve got all night.”
She crossed her legs, a sliver of her upper thigh flashing through the tantalizing slit of the white silk negligee. Blurred edges and rolling nausea marred my memory of our wedding night. But I was completely sober tonight, and she looked as mysterious and delectable as a forest nymph. Complete with the mischievous grin. I wanted to sink my fingers into her dark tresses, see what noises I could illicit. The edge of the silk kissed the swell of her breasts, and I wanted to run my tongue along it. I slid my hands down my thighs, trying to stem how they shook.I balanced on the edge of an all-consuming madness, and right now, I didn’t care if I plummeted.
“You’re right, my wife. You look beautiful this evening.” It wasn’t an empty compliment. Her hours spent readying herself had been well spent. I couldn’t look away. She radiated ease, perhaps a little uncomfortable in her clothing. The silk was only a clinging accompaniment to her beauty. It was a shame I was going to have to tear it off her later. Her cheeks flushed steadily pink.
“Do you think so?” She tilted her head, waiting for my answer.
“Yes.” The solitary syllable dripping with fervor as I flicked at my collar. It was hot in this room. We should have opened a window to let in a breeze. But I was greedy and jealous already of the noises I knew she would make later. I didn’t want anyone to hear them but me. Anita stood and walked over to me, her feet padding on the carpet. My eyes bugged as she ran her hands over her body, cupping her breasts suggestively. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her mouth dropped open as she fisted the material. It surprised me I didn’t harden at the sight. But I wasn’t unaffected by her sensual display, so different from anything I’d ever seen from her. My body broke out in a full sweat, enough that I had to undress. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, shaking so hard I couldn’t concentrate. Anita glided close until her hands caught mine. Warm, with surprising callouses.
“Romeo. You seem nervous.” She clicked her tongue, batting my hands away and undoing my shirt. My mouth went dry at her closeness. Her fingers carved paths of fire over my skin as she pushed my shirt over my shoulders. I shuddered as her nails scraped over my over-sensitized skin.
“I’m not nervous,” I assured Anita, shrugging off the shirt and tossing it to the side. I was lying. But I didn’t want her to know that. The way she was looking at me, it was almost like she used to, and I had been aching for it since I realized it was missing. Ihad to rectify the mess I’d made of this last time and also ensure she experienced all the pleasure she deserved.
“You should be.” She stepped so her legs pressed against mine. It took me a moment to digest her words.
“What?” I shook my head, intoxicated by the desire coursing through my veins. It made me feel muzzy-headed, dizzy. My vision flared and spun. But my mind blanked again as Anita straddled me. Her arms looped around my neck. As she leaned forward and sighed, her breasts pressed against my chest. Her lips were so close to mine as we traded oxygen.
“Do you remember when we did this on our wedding night?” she whispered, her dark eyes so deep I could drown in them. Who was this Anita, and what had she done with the nervous girl who had greeted me the last time she’d been in my lap? My hazy memories would have remembered her. My guilt had rammed into me the moment I saw Anita in her frothy white wedding dress. Lanton had been in the front row, next to my father. I’d felt his gaze on her like a brand, perversely thankful she didn’t have blonde hair. I had peeled away her quiet existence on the fringes of the underworld and put her on display. All because I needed The Gardener. I needed what Paolo had promised, and I was using an innocent girl to get it. She’d trembled, so sweet and terrified. Guilt had churned acidic and heavy in my gut.
My hands landed on her ass, testing with a soft squeeze to see if she would protest. She’d fought so hard against being here, but it seemed she had capitulated.
“I’m sorry for how I acted on our wedding night. It was inexcusable, and I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you. But I promise tonight I’ll make it up to you. Do you trust me, Anita?” I couldn’t help myself, kneading her pert ass. I expected the lining of panties, but the silk slipped over her bare skin. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I made a strangled noise, gripping her hips and grinding her down on me. My mouthlatched onto her neck, and I laved the skin there. Each breath scorched my lungs, never enough to relieve the tightness in my chest. My skin was on fire, every inch infused with desire. Her long hair brushed my cheek, and I pulled her face down. My lips on hers were cataclysmic. I felt the reverberation of our hearts crashing against each other. I groaned into her mouth, my tongue sliding in and taking command. So sweet, so soft, and all mine. I’d wanted this for so long. Anita gasped, her fingers curling on my shoulders as she pulled back. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, her nose wrinkling before she gave me a small smile.
“So, you didn’t get blind drunk because you hated being forced into marriage by Paolo? To his mousy cousin?” Her wide eyes were guileless as she blinked. She was rocking her hips over me, and each sensual movement stole a sliver of my restraint. Seeing her this way, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing, was too alluring. I couldn’t string a coherent thought together. Not when all I wanted to do was plunge inside and find out how potent her fertility tea was.
“What? Of course not.” I frowned, trying to catch her face so I could taste her tongue once more. She pulled back, her hips swiveling and grinding circles over my cock.
“So why aren’t you hard?” Her tone was light, but the judgment was there. I wanted to refute her, distracted by the slow, suggestive roll of her hips. But she was right. I was still soft. It made no sense. Lust pinballed under my skin, growing until it became a torrent. Anita was on top of me, exuding sensuality, and I wasn’t reacting. But I felt I could combust at any moment.
“It’s nothing, sweetheart. Sometimes it can take a moment. I promise I want you more than anyone else.” I tried to placate her and myself. My mind was racing, and I gulped. Of all the nights for my equipment to fail on me.
“Perhaps if we move to the bed?” I suggested, and Anita peeled herself off me and lay down on the bed. The hint of a dark triangle underneath her negligee made me want to groan. I knew she’d been bare, but seeing the truth made my knees wobble. So easily I could fit my head between her legs and coat her taste on my tongue. I unbuttoned my pants and undressed, hoping skin-to-skin would rouse my cock from slumber.
“Do you want me to?” Anita raised an eyebrow and slid one strap of the negligee off her shoulder.
“God, yes,” I choked, “Let me, please.” She waited as I inched up the hem, unveiling her like the treasure she was. Slowly, I bunched the soft material up and over her head, running my knuckles over her breasts and dusky nipples as I did. Anita made a soft noise, and it sent a jolt of lust right through me to my groin. But even with Anita splayed out underneath me, her dark hair spread out around her, it did nothing.
My cock was still soft.
“You take my breath away,” I told her the truth. I thought a wife was a burden I had to shoulder, but Anita had stolen my heart. She was clever, witty, and gorgeous. Underneath her sweet countenance was something spicier, sharper, but I hadn’t had enough time to investigate it yet. On our wedding night, I’d been so consumed with guilt over dragging such purity closer to my filthy world. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to give her the love she deserved. My hands were too stained with blood, and I didn’t want it to touch her. I was a hypocrite. I knew this, but I wasn’t evil like Lanton. But I couldn’t resist. She had to be mine, every inch of her. I let my built-up obsession pour out of me, pressing my body and mouth against Anita. I ran my hands down her body, glorying at the feel of her. She was a velvet haven, and she unfolded for me like sun-drenched petals. Nudging my legs in between her thighs, I spread them for my greedy gaze. Her pussy was right there. I could see it glistening underneath the darkhair. Anita’s chest was heaving, but her face was curiously blank. Except for the two pink spots on her cheeks and her swollen lips.
And. I. Was. Still. Soft.
“It’s okay,” Anita soothed, sitting up and clicking her tongue. “I’ve heard it’s very common for men to stay soft. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
