My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance
My Dark Romeo: Chapter 55

It seemed Shortbread had a bone to pick.

Or in her case—break.

I ignored her, striding into my room, still bleeding. She followed the scarlet drops of blood, like Hansel and Gretel chasing a candy trail.

In my bathroom, I yanked out a first-aid kit and sanitized the wound again. I’d suffered scrapes worse than this, but it looked nasty.

Dallas hopped on the counter by the sink, cradled her knees, and rested her chin on them, studying. “Need help?”

I dabbed the area dry and pulled out a needle and thread, frowning down at the bicep I needed to sew. “Do you know how to stitch gunshot wounds?”

“No.”

“Then, how do you suggest you help me? Cheering from the sidelines, holding a sign of my name?”

She blinked at my harsh words, obviously hurt.

Sliding the thread through the needle’s eye, I added, “You may leave now. You did well today. I think we saved the contract.”

“Is that all you care about?”

I ran the tip of the needle along my skin, searching for where it had broken. What a lousy angle to stitch myself from.

“Of course not. I also care about the damage they inflicted on Le Bleu. Cara will need to talk to the insurance company and authorities. Bureaucracy is a real bitch.”

“You saved my life.”

“That clown wasn’t going to inflict any serious damage. He was just a kid.”

She hopped off the counter, ducked her head under me to catch my gaze, and palmed my face. “No, he was angry and provoked. You took a bullet for me, Romeo.”

I scowled. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Thank you.”

Since I’d made no progress replaceing the starting point to stitch myself, I cleared my throat, stepping back. “You’re welcome. Now leave.”

“I want you.”

Her hand ran the length of my chest up to my shoulder.

I want you, too, which is why I need you to get the hell away from here. I no longer recognize myself or my actions where you’re concerned. You’ve become a liability I cannot afford.

Rather than kick her out, I set the needle and thread down. “You can ride my thigh.”

“I want to ride your cock.” She teased up the short hem of her olive satin dress. “When you forced me to tag along to Le Bleu, didn’t you say you’ll fuck me if I behave? I behaved.”

“I said I’ll fuck you when you’re on your period.”

“I interpreted that differently.”

“It’s not a Benedict de Spinoza book. It was not open to different interpretations.”

“Whatever. That last time wasn’t so great anyway.” Contrary to her words, her dress inched up, flirting with the border of her lace panties. “It happened so long ago that I don’t even remember much. Was I even there? Were you?”

Egging me on wouldn’t work.

Sadly for her, I was more sophisticated than that.

She continued, undeterred. “Oliver told me you’re a born-again virgin. You know your pee pee has other functions, right?”

“Leave, Dallas.”

But she didn’t leave.

Instead, she dropped to her knees and began undoing my belt. I leaned on the edge of the sink, powerless to stop her. My fingers curled around the counter.

“I’m going to bleed all over my floor.”

A last-ditch effort to stop her.

She pulled out my heavy, engorged cock. Her fingers circled it all the way without touching.

I loved how tiny she was compared to me. How unlikely a pair we were. How people must’ve wondered how I fit into her.

The delicious answer, by the way, was barely.

“It’ll compliment all the green I splashed on your ceiling.”

She wrapped her lips around my cock, taking it inch by inch. Her warmth engulfed it.

I shuddered when she flattened her tongue against my shaft.

I dropped my head back and groaned. Dallas was a great dick-sucker. She had the stamina, since her jaw worked out all day from eating.

And she was enthusiastic.

I could tell she loved going down on me.

I’d had my dick sucked by enough women who only did it to warm my bed. They’d blink up at me, examining me through their lashes with what they thought were seductive grins, suckling gently, stroking my dick up and down like it was a cello.

Not Shortbread.

Shortbread loved it all—the sucking, the spitting, the kissing, the way my cock hit the back of her throat when I grabbed her hair and fucked her face.

She loved gagging on it and often tried to take me all the way to the root. In fact, this seemed to be the only aspect in Dallas’s life in which she was not lazy.

Tilting my chin down, I watched as she sucked me off. Crimson drops ran down her glossy hair, trailing along her forehead.

Seeing her tainted with my blood did something to me. Gave me a sense of ownership I normally did not allow myself to contemplate.

Perhaps it was the blood loss, but I didn’t want to finish like this. Coming in her mouth wouldn’t cut it.

Lacing her long brown hair in my fist, I tugged her away from my cock. She pulled back, blinking at me expectantly.

“You want me to fuck you?” I leaned down, bringing her face to mine so our noses crushed together. I grabbed the front of her dress, twisting, tightening it against her skin until the fabric began pulling apart and tearing. “You want me to knock you up?”

“Yes,” she breathed out. “Yes.”

I dropped to the marble, resting my back against the vanity. “Ask nicely.”

“Please.”

“Nicer.”

She crawled toward me on all fours, straddled my lap, and grabbed my hand, bringing it between her legs. Her fingers guided mine into her slick pussy, two of hers joining mine inside her warmth.

My lips found her nipple, biting down through her dress. Together, we fucked her cunt down to our knuckles, curling until her walls pulsed.

I watched our fingers disappear inside her. She arched her back, trying to accommodate as much of us as she could.

Her lips drifted to the shell of my ear. “Please, please, please.”

I tore my fingers out of her, ripped her dress down the middle, and captured both sides of her waist, sinking her onto my cock, down to the hilt.

Her head fell forward. She bit my shoulder, drawing blood, her hips bucking.

She was so tight it felt like I was fucking her ass. Her walls squeezed around me, milking my dick for cum.

I let her ride my length until my impatience won over, and I pulled her off me, flipped her over, and lowered her on all fours.

The marble was cold and hard against her knees. I love seeing that spoiled little brat take all of my cock, feeling the discomfort of it. My silver-spooned nymph.

I entered her from behind. She drove back, meeting each of my thrusts.

My fingers curled around her neck and steered her upward until her back plastered against my front. She craned her head around and captured my lips, slipping her tongue past my teeth.

Her back arched, fingers dipping between her legs, searching for her clit. I smacked them away, then landed a palm on her ass.

“Rom,” she whined. “I need to come.”

“What you need is to be fucking grateful.” My blood brought my point home, covering every inch of her back, arms, and tits, matting her hair in clumps.

I released her throat and pet the crown of her head, whispering praises into her ear. “Such a good girl.” Words I never thought I’d say. Especially to this particular girl, who was anything but good two hundred percent of the time. “If only you took directions so well when you’re not filled with my cock.”

I reached around her and found her clit, rewarding her with a single flick. She cried out and fell forward, on her hands and knees again, pushing onto my cock.

More crimson drops splattered onto her back. I’d reopened my wound, and fresh red painted her spine. I dipped a finger into it, then spelled my name across her back dimples.

“Who owns your ass?” I growled.

“You.”

“Louder.”

“You.”

“Now crawl forward and show me your cunt from behind. I want to see if it’s worth my cum.”

With a reluctant moan, she inched away from my cock, writhing about two feet away.

She started to turn when I hissed, “I don’t want to see your face, Mrs. Costa. Just the cunt I stole from my enemy.”

She spread her thighs apart, exposing her pussy. It dripped on my floor, her juices mixing with my blood, creating a pink puddle at her feet.

I stroked my cock, coated with her wetness, scented by the wife I couldn’t get enough of.

I grinned, the release tickling my shaft. “Embarrassed?”

“No. Empty.”

Fuck me sideways.

How this woman would ever end up with a wuss like Madison, I had no idea. She would make meatballs out of him before the reception.

“Keep looking straight ahead. I’ll fuck you when I see fit.”

I lasted less than two minutes before hammering into her from behind. Her elbows bucked and she let out a surprised gasp.

My balls clenched.

I growled and drove every inch of me into her.

I came inside her.

In thick, never-ending ropes, the head of my cock pressed as deep as it would go.

When she realized what I’d done, her entire body tensed. Her pussy erupted around my cock, slicking it with her release.

I slid out, watching as our cum cascaded past her lips and onto the marble. She collapsed on the tiles, resting on her back, a lazy grin adorning her face.

I reached two fingers out, gathered my cum spilling out of her pussy, and tucked it back inside her cunt, remembering her words from earlier. “Is this what I do with my pee pee?”

Arms sprawled out like a snow angel, she released a delighted giggle.

In the pleasure meter, making her laugh came close second to making her come.

“You came in me,” she whispered, almost bewildered.

“I did.”

And unfortunately, I wanted to do it again.

And again.

However many times she’d let me.

She stretched, propping one of her feet over my thigh. “That glass heart of yours, Romeo… One day, I’m going to break it.”

“If anyone can, Shortbread, it’s you.”

I could give her a child without giving her my heart.

And that was damn well what I planned to do.