“I’m not,” I barked before taking a shaky breath. “It’s—look—this has never happened to me before.”
Anita reached out and palmed my cock, testing the feel in her hand. A prickling sensation barreled through me. As if I was about to come, but reached the peak and dropped back down before I could crest. Her hand painted a tapestry of warmth and gentleness. Tentative, awkward, but curious. She curled her fingers, furrowed her brow as if trying to puzzle out what to do with it. If only my goddamn cock would listen to my screaming thoughts.
“God, why?” I panted, looking at my dick, hoping it might perk up when it saw how furious I was at its misbehavior.
“You don’t have to pretend, Romeo. Your body doesn’t want mine, clearly.” She gave it a few more halfhearted tugs before settling back on the headboard. Her dark nipples were ripe cherries, and I wanted them in my mouth.
“I do,” I exploded, leaping off the bed. “I want you so bad it hurts. I’m always thinking about you, day and night. I’ve dreamed of this moment since our first wedding night.”
Even when I was supposed to be focusing on Lanton Vani’s downfall. My need for my wife was affecting the plans for revenge I’d promised Bruno.
“If you say so.” She shrugged. I set my jaw. My cock might not be working, but I could still use my tongue. I crawled down the bed, about to wrench Anita’s thighs apart again when she shrieked.
“What are you doing?” She scrambled away from me.
“I’m going to stick my head between these delectable thighs and suck your clit until you come. And then I’m going to do it again and again. I want to show you pleasure.” I licked my lips, saliva pooling at the thought of her taste.
Her eyes flew open, and for the first time tonight, I saw her newfound confidence falter. Her throat bobbed as she squeezed her legs together.
“Why don’t you freshen up? See if you can get him to behave?” She nodded at my cock, and I softened. Of course, she would be nervous. This was her first time in bed with a man. I would give her a temporary reprieve. I locked myself in the bathroom and fisted my flaccid length in my grip. My cock refused to respond, even when I strangled it in my fist. There was the sensation of being right on the edge of orgasm again. I could taste it before it faded. Heat barreled through my body, blissful intoxication that thumped with my rapid pulse. My chest heaved as I leaned over and gripped the bathroom bench, glaring as my breath came in short pants.
“Fuck,” I swore under my breath so that Anita didn’t hear me. My skin was overloaded with sensation now. Every small amount of lust I’d generated created a cacophony of intoxication with nowhere to go. It throbbed under my skin, shivering on the edge. As if one touch would trigger its release, but it never came. I tried again, jacking myself off with no result. But then I heard a noise.
A moan. Pleasure choked and thick with desire. It was Anita’s.
I burst out of the bathroom and stumbled at what I saw. Anita was on the bed, her fingers lazily circling her clit. Her thighs stretched open, the elegant line of them arresting. Tanned, sinewed muscle. Her fingers moved between her thick bush. The wanton, wet sound burrowed into my brain, etched in my memory forever. Her other hand gripped her breast, and she rolled her nipple between her fingers.
“Oh, no success?” she panted, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she pressed down harder, faster. Her fingers flew across her skin, toes pointed as another soft moan escaped her.
“What are you doing? I said I would pleasure you.” I couldn’t help the impotent hurt that blistered in my chest. Like I had failed her once again. All I could do was watch while she fucked herself.
No need for me at all.
“I heard you,” Anita panted, her eyes scrunched closed. Her chest rose and fell with harried breaths. Her breast still clutched, almost viciously, in her hand. I drifted to the end of the bed, sinking to my knees in front of her.
“What did you hear, sweet wife?” I whispered, my stomach cramping with choking desire. Anita’s hips rolled against her hand, and she made little noises, soft pants and sighs. Each one added to the fire that scorched my insides. I wanted. My longing narrowed to the dark triangle between her legs.
“I heard you tell Paolo that you would never love me.”
I gripped the bedding and leaned forward, frowning. But Anita wasn’t looking at me. Her face was contorted as she chased release. I caught glimpses of her clit, plump and greedy for touch. Her fingers became a flurry of movement.
“What are you talking about?” I asked her, dreading her answer. The tumult of emotions under my skin dazed me. Frustration, anger and embarrassment. They chomped on my insides.
“I know you only married me to get a meeting with The Gardener.”
I froze.
She cried out. Her back arched in a rigid line as her dark eyes flew open and pinned on me. They were hazy with lust, her long dark lashes dashing against her flushed cheeks. Her free hand tangled in her hair as if she needed an anchor. She choked on agroan as her heels dug into the bedding. Her orgasm made time slow. I watched each writhe, heard each moan with a growing horror and hunger. Her thighs trembled in the aftermath, and she slumped limp on the bed.
“Anita,” I choked. Paolo had enraged me, and I wanted to hurt him. The words had been a warning to me, too. I never wanted her to hear those lies. I’d been trying to convince myself to stay away from my wife. But she’d heard every word. My gut dropped, and acid serrated the column of my throat. She dragged her glistening fingers between the valley of her breasts and dipped them into her mouth. Her pink tongue twined around the digits, her eyes flaming coals. Hot, dark, and cruel. So cruel.
“That was when I knew. I don’t need anyone but myself,” she spat, and the hatred in her eyes was so deep.
“It’s not what you think. Please, let me explain.” I lurched up on unsteady feet, but she waved me off.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m done trying. I truly thought you cared for me. But Romeo? You picked the wrong girl to play games with. Because you call me sweet, but I am anything but.” She picked up her crumpled negligee and held it against her body.
I choked, a million words tripping over themselves on my tongue. But I knew not one of them would make a difference. Her decision was carved into the cold stone of her expression.
