Page 34 of Cruel Romeo

By now, I’ve learned to be patient with revenge. The right moment always presents itself if you wait long enough.

And the fact that Sima is no longer going anywhere works in my favor.

As if on cue, she chooses that moment to speak. “So, um… How should we start?”

I raise my eyebrows. “With what?”

“The heir.” When I don’t answer right away, she huffs. “Fine. Hold on.”

I watch her lie back awkwardly in the middle of the bed, stiff as a board. Her arms are pressed tightly to her sides, gaze locked on the ceiling like she’s waiting for the firing squad.

“Alright,” she says flatly. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

I blink. This is not the seduction I’d pictured. She looks like she’s the last virgin at a Roman orgy and I’m the sleazy old senator looking to slip it to her. Not exactly flattering stuff.

“Uh… do I take my clothes off? Or do you?” she starts to babble. I can hear the nervousness in her voice, the way her words trip over each other. “Or do you want me to help you take yours off? Or… do we evenneedto take them off?”

“Sima.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Relax. This isn’t your gyno’s office.”

“I know that,” she huffs, impatient. “And Iamrelaxed, thank you very much.”

“I can see that.”

“I mean it!” she insists. “Never been more relaxed in my life. This is, like, peak relaxation for me. Totally casual. Yup.”

Christ. I almost laugh, but that would give the mood the killing blow. Instead, I brace my hand on the mattress and lean over her.

“Relax,” I murmur, taking her chin in my hand. “I’ve got this.”

She swallows, wide-eyed, and nods. Her body stays stiff, but her cheeks are flaming pink now, betraying every drop of her anticipation. That innocent, flustered look goes straight to my cock.

That’s when I kiss her.

It’s slow, tentative. A gentle press of lips rather than the intensity I’m used to. When I want something, I devour it, but Sima feels too fragile for that. A lamb to the slaughter.

What I need to do right now is teach this little lamb how good I can make her feel.

The rest will come later.

She whimpers into the kiss, surprised. But soon, I can feel her lips part, her body yielding under mine. Her hand lifts and curls into my sleeve, and fuck if that little act of restraint isn’t the hottest thing in the world.

We come up for air. I drink in the blown black of her pupils, the soft half-mast of her eyelids in the moonlight.

Beautiful. Absolutely fucking beautiful.

When I go back in for another kiss, I dive deeper. She lets me, unfurling under me. Her little breathy sound when my tongue brushes hers nearly undoes me.

“Good girl,” I rumble between kisses. “Just like that.”

She whines quietly, but doesn’t stop me from going back to her lips again.

And again.

And again.

As our kisses grow more heated, my palm slides down her side, over the soft curve of her hip. She trembles under my touch, heart racing wildly. I lose myself in the faint sweetness of her mouth. My self-control frays at the edges, tested like never before.

Soon, I’m kissing my way down her body. Sucking bruises into the hollow of her throat, the line of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. I pull Sima’s top open and take a nipple into my mouth. When I do that, her whole body arches up, nails digging into the back of my shirt.