The Romeo Arrangement

And when he dives in, thrusting deep, grazing my clit and then making it a willing prisoner to his fire…

I’m so done.

Ready to come again.

Right here, right now.

I fight it for a few hopeless seconds, trying to hold back, but there’s a better chance of summoning a unicorn from thin air than keeping it together under Ridge Barnet’s mouth.

Of course, I’ve also been starved. That’s what happens when your sex life consists of a hot-pink Battery Operated Boyfriend for the last few years.

The fact that I’m being licked by an alpha-licious movie star? It’s like a starving woman taking her first bite of German chocolate cake from the finest bakery after having nothing but beans and easy mac for years.

Years.

“Grace,” he whispers, lifting his face just enough for me to see fiery blue staring up. “Don’t fight me. Let it fucking go.”

Not the words my body needs to hear.

The second it does, and he wraps his lips around my clit again, I’m speechless.

When you’re coming so hard you can’t even bite back your screams or stop for even half a second to worry about interrupting the butler’s beauty sleep, you know words are the least of your happy problems.

It isn’t fair how good it feels to obey this man.

To give up control, to grip his shoulders, desperately grinding my hips against his face in frantic jerks, full surrender to the sanity-killing O he whips through my body.

“Grace?” he says. “Still with the living, babe?”

Oh my God.

How much time did I lose?

I flop back against the bed and groan, loving how the cool air feels against the sheen of sweat left behind by his antics.

“Sorry,” I gasp. “It’s just…it’s been awhile.”

He leans over, threading his fingers through my hair, bringing me back to life with another one of those kisses far too X-rated for Sleeping Beauty comparisons.

“Good. Means you’re ready to have some fun,” he tells me.

“Oh?” My heart beats even faster again.

He grasps the hem of my shirt, pulling it up, over my head and off my arms. My boobs have been begging for his hands all night, still are, and at the first touch, my nipples go hard.

“I promise,” he says, kissing my chin. “You’ll walk away satisfied—if you can walk at all.”

Promises, promises.

The bad news is, I know now what he’s truly capable of.

What sounds like a brag is really fair warning when it’s Ridge Barnet saying it.

“What about you?” I ask, trying to sound sexy.

I’m sure I sound more like a bundle of nerves.

He chuckles softly. “I’ll get everything I need. Don’t you worry.”

It’s hard not to shudder at how sure, how smug, how determined he sounds.

That thrills a dark part of me, and my eyes drop to his pants.

He laughs, reaching for my hands.

Reading my mind, he guides them toward his waist, bathing me in blue-eyed heat.

I catch hold of his belt as I sit up, helping unbuckle it while he pulls his shirt off. As I unsnap his jeans, he pushes down, kicks off his pants, then falls on top of me as we both smile.

Skin to skin, heat to heat, soul to soul, we share another deep kiss, tasting and teasing until my senses whirl, my heart pounding, a fire lit between my legs so hot it scares me.

His hands caress my sides, my breasts, teasing my nipples as his mouth slips off mine.

He’s too good at what he does, trailing soft kisses down my neck, along my shoulder blades, slowly moving down. I nearly explode as he sucks one of my nipples, then the other.

Ridge looks up, this feral glint in his eyes, reminding me of every wicked thing he did to me before with that tongue.

It’s happening again.

Only this time, there’s no easy relief, no way to keep my nails off him as they press into his skin.

Please!

I know when he gives me that fullness throbbing behind his boxers, barely covered, it’s going to deliver the orgasm of the century.

“Ridge!” I whisper, a brilliant, hot flush spreading over me. “Enough. I want you. So bad. Now.”

So yes, it’s bad when I can’t form complete sentences.

He kisses my stomach slowly.

I can barely move, everything below the waist turned to jelly, and I’m still riled for more. But as he steps away from the bed, confusion fills me.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom. Condom.” He winks. “And this time I won’t even have to worry about hiding anything from Tobin.”

“Hurry!” I whisper.

Even while I’m basking in the sweet anticipation, I’m fully aware of how hungry I am.

How eager I am to see what he looks like when he comes and hear the pleasure snarling out of him.

He’s seen me twice.

Fair is fair.

He returns a moment later, naked and glorious.

My eyes instantly fall to his erection.

Uh-oh.

Apparently, the Barnet family jewels are actually museum-worthy. Like, ready to be displayed in a gallery with every artist who ever spent hours of their life crafting the perfect manhood.