When With Rome (Perfect Gentlemen Book 1)

by Natalie Gayle

  Her eyes fly open with a satisfaction I haven’t seen before. She’s owning me, and I’m loving it.

  I drop my hands from her hair and cup her shoulders, raising her up from her knees.

  A couple of steps backward, and my legs hit the edge of the bed. Somehow, I kick off my shoes, socks, trousers and underwear, without breaking eye contact with her, and the sight of her hands going to the wrap tie that secures the red dress at her waist.

  I thought it would be sexy to let her strip for me, to tease me. Seeing her hands on that sash at her waist, suddenly, I’ve changed my mind. I want to be the one to unwrap her out of that dress like the most exquisite present.

  A gift to me.

  “Stop baby, I want to do it.” Her eyes lock to mine. “You’re so beautiful in this dress. Like the rarest of gifts. Let me unwrap my gift—you.”

  She closes the distance between us and drops her hands to my shoulders to steady herself in those killer heels.

  With fingers far steadier than I thought possible, I ease the sash from the knot she’s tied it in and slowly let gravity help the edges of the fabric slip from her body.

  Her skin is luminous and silky soft to touch. I can’t resist the urge to bury my face into her abdomen and just absorb the heat and scent of this woman who has somehow slipped through all my carefully erected guards.

  I trace a slow line up her belly to just below her breasts which are begging to be freed from the sexiest of red French lace.

  “Step back, beautiful. I want to look at you.” I press a kiss to the spot just below the bow at the middle of the bra and gently push her back with my hands to her hips.

  Slowly, she nudges the sides of the dress back before letting the fabric slide down her arms and pool in a crimson puddle on the carpet.

  I’m mesmerized.

  She stands perfectly still, allowing me to look my fill. There’s no hesitation or embarrassment. A woman proud to display her body for her lover. To tease and tantalize his every sense. To drive him to a madness of passion.

  The pure beauty of Carlene standing here is a true work of art. It’s the seductive look of need in her eyes, the quiet confidence of her stance, the soft, generous curves of her body, the smooth skin, the sexy as hell lingerie and finally the fuck me heels. Those I want wrapped around my back as I eat her sweet, sweet pussy.

  I want so many things, I need to make a list to get through them all

  “Look at you, baby. You’re so beautiful, Carlene, I can hardly breathe.” I’m in awe of the woman in front of me. How far she’s come in such a short time.

  Her eyes hold mine and something passes between us before her lips curl into the slow smile of a siren. And then her tongue snakes out and swipes across her lower lip.

  She’s slowly killing me.

  “Take me, Rome. I want you to fuck me long and hard.”

  My heart skips a beat, and my cock screams at the invitation.

  She said it, and by God, it just makes her about a million levels hotter.

  “It will be my pleasure, Carlene.” I reach my hand out to her. “Get your delectable ass over here.” She steps forward, right into my outstretched arms, and I run my hands from her shoulders all the way down her back, over the exposed cheeks of her butt and down her thighs.

  It’s a thong. Heaven help me, she has to be wearing a thong, my very favorite and now I have to look.

  I stand and reverse our positions, then turn her a little further until she’s facing the bed.

  “Bend over, Oz, I want to worship this ass for a bit.” She lets out a surprised squeak that turns into a moan as I push her toward the bed and trail my hand slowly down her spine.

  The sight in front of me…divine.

  Her incredible ass, divided and highlighted by the sexiest scrap of red lace I can ever recall seeing.

  I can’t wait any longer. I have to look, touch, taste.

  My control falters, and I can’t resist. The sound of my palm striking her skin skids around the room and harmonizes with the surprised shriek that leaves her lips before it turns into a low moan of, “Rome.”

  “Perfect, Oz, just perfect.”

  For good measure, I add a twin palm print to her other cheek. Once again, I’m rewarded with a low moan.

  Now I want my mouth on her. I need to taste the sweet musky scent I’ve come to crave as Carlene.

  I place tender kisses on the rosy prints my palms have left on her baby soft skin. Then I drop to my knees and take each glorious cheek in my hands.

  The lace thong is so sexy, and I place little kisses and nips along its length, which has her shivering in place as it teases her super sensitized flesh.

  “Ooh, Rome.”

  She wriggles her ass at me, and I can’t stand the torment any longer. I need to taste her desire for me.

  My hands rise to her hips, and I hook the lace around my thumbs before I slowly skim it over her hips and ass. I make sure to draw out the anticipation until her breath is nothing more than ragged pants.

  Down, down the lace moves over her firm thighs until it comes to rest around her elegant ankles in those ridiculous shoes.

  The shoes. What the fuck had I been thinking?

  I set her up to slay me right through to the core.

  “Step out, Oz,” I growl, struggling to control the baser needs consuming me. She does as I ask, and I steady her as the lace makes the final pass over her heels.

  “Are you ready to see just how good it feels when your pussy is bare to my tongue, my fingers, my cock, baby?”

  Her hips twitch again, and I can see the essence of her need glistening over her swollen pussy lips.

  “So fucking sexy, this bare pussy.” I trail the lightest of touches down between her cheeks and through the slickness of her center.

  She’s dripping for me. So turned on and waiting for me to reward her with permission to release the tension I’ve worked so hard to create.

  “Rome, please,” she wails, a level of need in her voice I’ve never heard before. I move around her and lay on the bed, in front of her.

  “Please what, baby?” I taunt, all the while taking her hands and guiding her up my body.

  She looks all disheveled and hellishly sexy as she willing comes up the bed with me.

  “Lick me, something. I can’t stand it anymore. I need to come.” She’s close already, riding on the smoldering build we’ve been playing with for hours.

  “Well, in that case, you’d better come sit on my face.”

  I don’t miss the harsh intake of her breath at my choice of words. I wanted to shock her, take her further to the edge. Before she has a second thought, my hands grasp her hips and urge her right into place over my very willing mouth.

  The scent and taste of her arousal hits me all at once. She’s intoxicating and my cock slaps hard against my stomach in response.

  I scrunch my eyelids to the point of pain and hold my breath for a moment, anything to try and get my own need back under control.

  I nudge her legs apart a few more inches to give me the room I need. And then my mouth is all over her sweet pussy, kissing, licking, sucking, nipping. I doubt she realizes her hips are thrusting onto my face, demanding I pleasure her. Damned if it isn’t the best feeling to know I’ve helped her find this temptress inside her. The confident, sensual, goddess she deserves to know and be.

  My tongue teases a few light strokes over her clit as my lips close around her and suck some more.

  It is enough.

  She capitulates and thrashes—wild and free.

  “Yes, Rome,” she cries in the voice of a warrior queen.

  Her hips buck, and I lock my arms around her, not letting up with my mouth. She’s going to ride this orgasm to the very end, and only when she begs me will I let up.

  On and on, the waves of ecstasy rage in her, until finally, she squeezes her thighs together trapping my face between.

  My hand searches under the pillow where I left a stash of condoms earlier. With
an ease born of practice, I’m gloved and ready to go in a New York second. No way I am missing out on taking her like this, half out of her mind with pleasure. Pleasure I’ve introduced her to, guided her through.

  I wriggle out from between her thighs and slip around behind where she’s kneeling on the bed—still heaving from the pleasure.

  I take her wrists in mine and guide her forward. “Hands on the headboard, baby. I need to be inside you now.” She does as I ask, and her head drops forward.

  With my engorged cock in hand, I rub the head through her wet and swollen folds. Another spasm racks through her as my cock torments her over sensitized flesh.

  She cries out at the shock.

  “And now I’m going to fuck you. Just as you asked.”

  Inch by glorious inch I slide into her, and a red haze of passion descends over my vision.

  I want her so bad. My body is pulled taut. I wonder if I could shatter from the tension.

  Slowly, I push in until I bottom out, balls deep in a pussy I’m sure is about the best I’ve ever had.

  “Rrrrrome, feels so good,” she pants through ravished breaths as I rock my hips hard into her, cushioned by her glorious ass. My fingers clench tight to her butt cheeks, and I drive forward harder and harder with every stroke.

  Higher and higher, I push us both.

  Our bodies slapping together in a staccato beat.

  I grit my teeth and ignore the tingling warning deep in my balls.

  “Come for me again, Oz. I need to feel you milking my cock. Give it to me, baby. I know you can.”

  And just like I expected, my wild woman delivers.

  Her torso flails back and slams into my body. I push her back down and thrust my hips into her over and over, until she’s coming all around me. The tight walls of her pussy demanding I respond in turn.

  My head spins, and my body tenses and releases over and over again in time to the jets of cum shooting from me as her walls squeeze me so tightly. It’s as close to Heaven as I’ll ever likely come.

  We crumple to the bed, sweaty bodies temporarily sated.

  For the life of me, I can’t remember ever feeling more satisfied and more empty all at once.

  Have I finally found the woman of my dreams, only to have to let her go in a few short days?

  Surely, life can’t be that cruel?

  Chapter 18

  Carlene

  I just lived through the most intense sexual experience of my life. Not just lived through it, I’d actively demanded it and met Rome at every level.

  It’s so damned liberating.

  So, this is what it can be like.

  It seems I’ve never got to know what my body is capable of giving and receiving. I’m not going to dwell on resenting the past. It’s gone, and I deserve and demand better. Now that I know, I’ll never settle for lackluster sex again.

  I just hope Rome hasn’t set the bar too high for me, because if I can’t have this, I think I’d prefer none.

  Rome trails a lazy hand over my breast, still covered in red lace.

  “How remiss of me, I didn’t even manage to get this off you. I do love your breasts.”

  A smile emerges from my lips. I give him another squeeze with my arm around his middle. “I think you got distracted with my backside.”

  I roll over and plaster my body down Rome’s. I feel more like snuggling than anything else just now and seeming to understand, he immediately pulls me into his arms, my head resting on his chest.

  I realize now, snuggling is probably something I’ve missed the most without even realizing it. At the beginning of our marriage, Phillip and I snuggled a lot. We lost that too. And it makes me sad. There’s just something about being able to cuddle up with another person. It’s something about the connection.

  Sensing him looking at me, I glance up; he’s grinning at me like a fool.

  “I’ve been known to be an ass man, and Oz, your ass looks insane in that thong. I had no hope of resisting.”

  His words always make me feel so good about myself. He gives me confidence and makes me feel beautiful, special.

  “I get the feeling you’re an equal opportunity lover when it comes to the female body.”

  “Pretty much,” he agrees and takes a sip of the Champagne he poured after he disposed of the condom and cleaned me up. “Here, take a sip.” He holds the glass and helps me balance to take a swallow of the cool, crisp liquid.

  Then he offers a chocolate dipped strawberry to me. I can’t resist. I make a production of licking and nipping at his fingers as he lowers it into my mouth. It’s succulent and sweet.

  “Look at you, you, sensuous creature. I think I’ve created a monster. The best type though—the sexy, sensuous type.” There’s a big note of pride in his voice.

  I smirk up at him and realize I enjoy his playful banter as much as his snuggles; his eyes appear even darker than normal with the shadows in the room.

  “You seem to be pretty chuffed with yourself there, Rome.”

  “You’ve been an excellent student.”

  “I’ve had a very patient and generous teacher.”

  “You’d better stop, I’m starting to have fantasies of you bent over my desk, and me with a ruler in my hand, spanking your very fine ass.”

  Rome removes the wrapper from another of the chocolates and lowers it down toward my mouth.

  “Open for me, baby.”

  A shiver tingles through my body. How does he always manage to make the smallest thing so damned sexy? The man should be illegal. I’m surprised I haven’t keeled over from a heart-attack at half the things we’ve done and continue to do.

  “Are you eating any of these? Or are you just intent on getting me fat?”

  He gives me a cheeky grin. “I’ve eaten a couple. And you don’t need to worry about getting fat while I’m around. I think I’m making sure you get plenty of exercise.” Once again, he trails his fingertips over my breasts. “Besides, the night is still young. Consider this as an intermission while we enjoy some refreshments before I get you to ride my cock. I did promise you that, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

  I begin to protest. “Rome...I don’t know if I can.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll find out soon, but I’m confident.”

  He’s always so confident, and he hasn’t let me down yet, so I’m inclined to believe him when he says I can.

  A comfortable silence settles between us for a moment, and his hand strokes through my hair. Being here with Rome like this feels incredibly intimate and connected. I’m hoping he feels the same way too, particularly after what he disclosed to me at dinner.

  My mind kicks into gear and starts to wonder about the man who had made such a profound impact on my life in such a short time.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” There’s no hesitation in his answer, and it gives me the courage to ask what I’ve been curious to know almost from the beginning.

  “Now you’ve let me in on your little secret about Perfect Gentlemen, can I ask you how you got into this business? Surely, you didn’t wake up one morning and go I want to be a…you know?”

  Rome, traces his finger around the shell of my ear, and through a helpless shiver, I wonder if he’s going to answer me or try and divert my attention. Whether he’s regretting confiding in me earlier?

  I glance at him through my lashes, and I can see he’s mulling over how much to tell me. “What you’ve suggested—it’s actually not far from the truth. You remember how I told you about the financial crash of 2007/2008?”

  “Of course. The GFC.” I may be a country hick, but even I know what the global financial crisis was. The GFC didn’t escape us country folk. “In fact, the GFC was the beginning of the end for Phillip and me. Although, that’s a whole other story.”

  His fingers continue to alternate between playing with my hair, my neck, and my ear, and it feels divine.

  “I was a financial trader on Wall Street. They were
crazy, stupid times. The numbers we dealt in each day were so big, they were insane. To the point, they no longer had any real meaning. They were just numbers. It was heady, and we were all young, cocky and reckless in a lot of ways. Amped up on the adrenaline of the game.” His eyes have kind of glazed over into a far-away look, and his hand stops momentarily.

  “To cut a long story short, when the crash happened, I lost my job, and I was personally exposed financially. I’d made some personal investments on what seemed a sure thing. I needed cash quick, and I had no job options in New York anymore. It was a very common story among the traders.

  “People like me were being laid off in droves. The company I worked for no longer existed overnight. But I’d been doing some side dealing, and if I couldn’t come up with the cash in a pretty short timeframe, I was going to have to declare bankruptcy. My pride wouldn’t let me do that, and I would have lost my financial trading license. Which, at that time, seemed fundamental for my career.”

  I can very well understand how he felt. Back to the wall and no real options. Stubborn pride dictating you don’t give up and somehow you have to claw your way out of the mess. I run my hand over his belly in a move I hope is comforting, trying to let him know I understand his still evident pain.

  “So, I cleaned out my apartment in New York, and hopped on a plane for LA. I had a suitcase to my name. I’d sold everything else I had of value to try and keep the wolves from the door for a few weeks. At that stage, I kept hoping the market would turn and adjust.”

  I lace my fingers through his other hand in a move of support. “I know something about what you’re saying. Trying to keep the wolves from the door was something I lived with for years. The constant juggle. The incessant worry about how we were going to pay the mortgage, the school fees and the bills. What if the drought kept up? To this day, I have no idea how I did it for so long.”

  His eyes connect with mine, and I read surprise before it quickly morphs into a deeper connection—we both understand the worst type of financial struggle.

  “Exactly. It’s exhausting and so demoralizing when you feel like you should be able to sort it, but everything just seems to go against you and you can’t.”