Page 7 of Forbidden Bride (Forbidden 1)
Pressing a hand to my lips, I give myself a mental slap. What the hell am I thinking? I’m going to get in so much trouble, except—
“This is my moment and I want to live it.”
I don’t realize that I said that out loud until he chuckles.
“Good,” he says, “because so do I.”
My body is on fire, my breath coming fast and shallow. I don’t even know how to deal with what I’m feeling, or what it means. It’s like being both drunk and exhilarated. Awake and dreaming. Lusty and on edge and electrified all at once. I’ve never felt this incredible in my life.
I grab him by the chainmail and step on my tiptoes to pull his mouth back onto mine. My heart is pounding; I’ve never seduced a man before and my nerves are out of control. But I can’t stop myself. His presence draws me in like a teenager to an unlocked alcohol cabinet. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not good for me. It absolutely will not end well.
But I’m unsupervised, and I want it. God, I want it.
Romeo quickly takes control of the kiss and the next thing I know, I’m half drunk on pleasure as he lifts me in his arms. He sinks onto the bench and I find myself in his lap, straddling him. Something hard and hot throbs in his jeans, pressing between my legs.
The urge to grind the most sensitive part of me against him is like an instinct I can’t control. I nearly give in to the urge, but then his hands are on the sides of my breasts, his thumbs rubbing softly over the fabric until my nipples harden into needy peaks. They tingle with pleasure, while inside I curse the fact that my dress is in the way. I want to feel his hands caressing my bare skin, his fingers on my nipples as they tug the pleasure out of me.
It won’t be the same as when I do it to myself later. I know that for absolute sure.
“Juliet,” he whispers. There’s question in his tone. Slight panic beats in my heart as I realize what he’s asking. This is my moment.
“Yes,” I breathe, unsure if I’m giving permission or acknowledging him.
He takes it as the former, pulling the top of my bodice low enough that one breast pops free into his hand. I gasp into the chill air even as I lean into the warmth of his palm. Leaning me back slightly, he dips his head and draws my nipple into his mouth. It’s like his tongue sends a lightning bolt straight to my clit.
“Oh my God,” I pant.
I grip his strong shoulders through the chainmail to steady myself. I’m floating. Right up into the night sky. My mind can’t process this…I can’t think.
His hands run up my thighs, taking my skirt with them, moving to the bare flesh of my inner legs until his thumbs meet at my apex. I try to clench my legs together, but I’m braced by his hips and the hard length of his erection.
When he thumbs my clit through my underwear, I see stars behind my eyelids. As he sucks on my other nipple, I start rocking my hips, rubbing myself against the thick bulge in his pants. I am pure lust. Pure want. Pure need.
“Yes,” I moan.
I’m soaked; the wetness only growing as bolts of pleasure burst through me. The wetter I get, the better his cock feels, even through the denim. It feels so good but so unfulfilling, knowing I’m right on the brink of something more—something only he can give me.
A rustling sound cuts through the briskness of my breathing and I go completely still.
“What is it?” he asks, pulling me closer so his lips can cruise my neck.
And then I think of Mercutio wandering off with the waitress for a quick romp. But me? I’ve never done this before. I’ve never done anything like this before. Do I really want my first time to be a random hookup with some guy whose real name I don’t even know?
And if I do this now, there will be no way I can hide it from my future husband later.
Disappointed tears prick my eyes as I fix my bodice and pull my skirts back down. What was I thinking? I’m Karina Rossi, fiancée to another man. Not the wanton countess of my fantasies. Despite the daydreams I might have about autonomy and freedom, this just isn’t me.
I don’t have sex with strangers.
Palms flat on his chest, I slide off his lap and shake my head. “I have to go.”
“Juliet—”
“That’s not my name,” I snap. Then I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t wait for him to respond as I hurry away. My steps turn into a light run, then faster until I nearly trip on the hem of my skirt. Once I’m out of the maze, I slow to a brisk walk and toss back my hair as I catch my breath and will my pulse to slow.
I’ve barely gotten myself under control when Mercutio hurries toward me.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Relieved that the darkness hides my insta-blush, I motion behind me at the gardens. “Just looking at the flowers. It’s a beautiful night.”
He makes an annoyed sound as he smooths the front of his shirt. It’s noticeably more wrinkled than it was when we arrived. “Yeah, well, it’s time to go.”
Thank goodness.
I don’t fall apart in the back of the car. I can’t in front of my cousin. As we pull out of the circular drive and into highway traffic, a boulder of dread settles in my gut. So much for being Juliet. I’m more like Cinderella, racing home at the stroke of midnight so I don’t get found out…heading right back into my cold, controlled life where I do everything that I’m told.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I go to put it in my bag when—oh, shit.
Glancing desperately around me, I pat the sides of my seat and look on the floor. But it’s gone. Instead of losing a shoe for the handsome prince to find, I left my clutch. On the bench.
With a man who could completely ruin me.
