Page 93 of Mr. Romantic (Mister 2)

I nod. The only heat I feel is between my legs. But then his lips come up to mine, just a flutter of warmth. I almost lunge for him, that’s how bad I want more contact. I want his heat, and his kiss, and his mouth. I want his arms around me, shielding me from the frigid night air. His palm is suddenly on my throat, his thumb pressing on my chin, so even if I wanted to pull away, I can’t.

I don’t want to pull away.

“I’m going to take off the dress and make it worse.”

I practically convulse with his words, that’s how much my body is trembling. He peels the single shoulder strap down my arm until my breasts are exposed, the air hitting my nipples and making them bunch up into hard pebbles.

Nolan continues, his warm hands pulling the fabric down my body until my hips are exposed. And then he drops to one knee and brings the garment to the ground as his hands reach up to my ass and he buries his face in my pussy. He licks my panties, the panties he told me to wear, and then he fists them with both hands and rips them apart.

A squeal of fright escapes through my chattering teeth, but his hands are there again, his warm hands that feel like fire against my freezing skin.

When he stands up and leans into my neck, his soft breath caresses me into a lull. I press against him again, desperate for his arms to wrap me up. Desperate for his touch. “We forgot to laugh,” I say, when his mouth kisses mine.

“What?” he asks.

“We broke the scene when you peeled off the dress, remember?”

“It’s not a scene, you stupid cunt.”

I hiccup a sob as I begin to cry, the cold and the name-calling too much. His hands come up to my head and press. This time, it’s soft. Nolan looks me in the eyes, his dancing, mine frightened. And he says, “Pretty as a picture. Your tears are as pretty as a picture. And I will take you this night the way I planned. Kicking and screaming. Your nails digging into my flesh as you fight me off. Your pussy throbbing the entire time.”

What does that mean? I want to scream it. Is he playing with me? Or is he serious?

But before I can ask, Nolan takes off his suit coat and places it over my shoulders. I sob harder from the relief. The way this one simple act can make everything better.

“Let’s go,” he says. “Your mouth has a date with my cock.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven - Nolan

She whimpers as I drag her into the house. It’s almost dark in here, but not quite. Just enough light to see what’s necessary. Not nearly enough light to expose us. I push her towards the stairs and say, “Climb, Ivy,” when she hesitates. “Climb or I’ll drag you up the stairs by your hair and that’s not nearly as fun as watching your ass in front of me.”

I’m preparing myself for her eventual stop. I imagine what it will take to get her to say that word. How far I will have to push her. How much she will be willing to endure to get to that point.

And, of course, what I’ll do after she says it.

“Bend over,” I say, when she’s a few steps shy of the top.

Ivy stops climbing, but she doesn’t bend over.

I whip the jacket off her shoulders and throw it over the banister. Her head turns to watch it fall to the ground thirty feet below.

“You’re going next, Ivy, if you don’t bend the fuck over.”

A squeal escapes her chattering teeth, but she leans forward, places her bound hands on the top step, and then presses her head to the floor next to them.

“Your pussy looks delicious,” I say, rubbing her ass with my palm. I stick a finger inside her as another plays with her clit. “I’m going to make you come right now. Before we even get started. Because I want to know how much you love it.”

She draws in a deep breath and in the same moment my hand slaps down on her ass cheek so hard, it echoes off the high ceilings.

“Ow,” she sobs.

I rub her ass, feeling the heat my hand created radiating over her skin. And then I play with her again. Softly this time.

She looks over her shoulder as I unzip my pants. “Nolan—”

“Quiet,” I whisper. She’s crying, as she should be.

“Nolan, please st—”