The Art of Marrying Your Enemy (The Richmond Brothers #2)

31. Daisy

31

DAISY

“ W ith the way Aaron was acting, I didn’t expect to see you back ’til tomorrow.” Then Reese noticed my tear-streaked makeup. “Oh my god, what did he do to you?”

“Nothing!” I wailed. “He didn’t do anything to me. I was right. He’s not attracted to me. I put myself out there, and he rejected me.” I sobbed against my friend. “I’ll never be good enough. All he wants is Aurora. He hates that I’m not her, that he couldn’t marry her. I’m a terrible person,” I insisted. “His mom hates me because I hurt him. I ruined his great love story.”

Reese stuffed a cake pop in my mouth then took a deep breath.

“Now look, I have been a supportive friend though the years, but sometimes, being a good friend is encouraging growth.”

“I ruined his only chance at happiness,” I mumbled around the frosting.

“Daisy, you care way too much about Aaron. You cannot let a man define you, especially not one who treats you like Aaron does.”

Reese wiped at my wet face.

“I’m glad you got as far as you did,” she said. “You got back at Aurora. This is karma, and you’re going to finish it then send her photos of the great love of her life with his dick buried up your ass.”

“That’s… graphic.” I winced.

“She spread rumors about you in high school,” Reese said flatly. “Got everyone to call you Dump Truck Daisy, including Mr. Cadish that one time in math class. She told everyone you had an STD and convinced that foreign exchange student to ghost you. She lied and said you stole her underwear. She told everyone I came onto her father. She Photoshopped an iMessage screenshot and lied and said you had offered to suck Aaron’s dick for a Pop-Tart.”

I raised my hand slowly. “I am so sorry I never told you, but I did actually send that text message.”

Reese was silent for a moment, her hand over her mouth.

“Fine. I guess I should have known. But! She said you looked like Miss Piggy when we went to prom.”

“Oh my god, that’s right! I blocked it out.”

“He can’t pussy block you then expect the same treatment. Fuck her and fuck him and literally fuck him,” Reese ranted. “You need to go after him. Hard. Make it so he can’t say no, so he doesn’t want to say no. Don’t let Aurora win. This is a chance to get back at her, and Aaron, for high school.” She raised a fist in the air. “Out of the ashes of Dump Truck Daisy rises Daisy the Destroyer!”

“What if he rejects me again?” I whimpered.

Reese shoved a bottle of gin into my hands. “Liquid courage. Man the fuck up. You’re not a teenager anymore. Now your tits are nicer. Aaron could barely resist you the last time. I don’t want to see you back at this coffee cart until you’re officially a woman.”

“If you’re sure,” Jared said when I told him to tell the servants to take the night off.

“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “I’m cooking something extra special for Aaron.”

I was groomed and showered with a fresh blowout, wearing my Victorian-inspired lingerie with the corset, ruffly bustle, and stockings with big bows on my thighs.

I was nervous. Like, supernervous.

I downed martinis as I cooked the soup, since who knew how long Aaron and I would be having sex? Soup would be fine to sit for a while.

The front door opened.

I took two shots of gin. Then a third for good measure.

Drunkenly, I stumbled into the sitting room as Aaron, confused, stuck his head inside.

“Ready to consummate this marriage, Mr. Richmond?” I slurred before tripping over the coffee table and almost breaking my neck on the edge of the sofa.

He gathered me in his arms.

“No. You had too much to drink.”

I hauled back and slapped him in the face.

He cursed and shook me.

“Sorry, there was a lot of pent-up rage and aggression in that slap.” I kissed his red cheek. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard. But…” I kissed his mouth, too drunk to care that I was probably the worst kisser he’d ever been with and he would laugh about it with Aurora later. “Like you keep reminding me, Mr. Richmond, I’m a spoiled princess, and I don’t want you and your fucking hang-ups to torch my family’s fortune, so fuck me, but don’t make it personal.”

That sounded like a properly sexually experienced woman, right?

Not breaking eye contact with me, Aaron removed his suit jacket then his tie, throwing them to the floor. Then he cupped my face.

“You sure you’re ready for this, Coleman?”

Nope.

“You ready to see how you compare with the other men I’ve been with?” I shot back with feigned confidence.

“I know I’ll be better than Professor Can’t-Use-a-Spice-Cabinet.” He hoisted me up, and my legs wrapped around him as he kissed me then set me in an oversized armchair.

Leaning on the armrest, he gave me a deep, leisurely kiss, like he was going to take his time.

It was slower than the frenetic energy of this afternoon. This I could handle. This was a Jane Austen novel compared to the typo-riddled dungeon erotica Aaron had been dishing out earlier.

He seduced me as he slowly unlaced the ribbons on the silky corset, freeing my tits. After kneeling in front of me, he sucked on my tits, his fingers drawing slow circles on my thighs.

My legs spread. I needed him to go higher, needed to feed that barely chained desire, that predator.

But he was a gentleman worthy of a Regency romance as he caressed my curves, trailing kisses along my collarbone and over the mounds of my tits. His fingers traced lower until he hooked his thumb under the lacy ribbon of my panties.

The lace dug into my ass until the panties gave and he was sliding them down my smooth legs. Then his fingers parted my pussy lips, wet and glistening for him.

“You’re ready for my cock, aren’t you?” he crooned.

I gasped as he stroked me, making me shudder.

“But first…” Another stroke. “I need you to sign the contract.”

The tablet he held out to me was blurry in my drunken vision as I scrawled my signature with my finger.

The muscles on his torso flexed in the low light as he twisted off his shirt. Then he was back, cupping my head and gently tugging my hair as he kissed me, his tongue sweeping against mine.

Wow, this was… Well, I didn’t want to say “boring.” That was mean.

Languid. It’s languid and sensual. A perfectly romantic, sweet first time.

He stroked my pussy, slowly stoking the pleasure in me.

Except that wasn’t really what I’d fantasized about. Not with Aaron, anyway. Especially after all that talk of rough sex in his intercourse contract. Where was the chained dark beast? Where was the monster who I had fantasized about stealing into my bedroom at night, covering my mouth, silencing my screams with his tongue, and using me to play out his twisted, dark fantasies?

Guess if you built up something in your head for fourteen years, it would never live up to the hype.

Or maybe he just needed a little encouragement. I tightened my fingers in his hair.

“You gonna make me your little cum slut?”

His fingers were rough in my pussy, stroking me, dipping into me.

“I promise I’m going to make you feel so good. I’m going to make love to you until you come.”

My hips surged against his hand.

“How’s that?” he whispered as he stroked my clit. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” I whimpered. Well, it was good enough.

Did women really throw away their lives for this?

“I’m so hard for you,” he murmured as he stroked me.

I didn’t have a lot of experience, but wasn’t that a little generic?

Aaron leaned in, one hand resting on the back of the chair so he could claim my mouth. His teeth scraped my lip as he reached for his zipper.

He kicked off his pants and stood before me in black boxer briefs, his huge bulge tenting the fabric.

That… wasn’t generic.

I grabbed the bottle of gin and took a swig.

Maybe he was wearing—I didn’t know, a codpiece? Or the black fabric was causing an optical illusion? Surely he wasn’t that big, right?

I took another long swallow of gin. Drunk me could take this one.

“Tell me what you like,” Aaron murmured.

The fuck did I know what I like?

“Maybe,” I croaked before taking another swig, “just give me your cock.” This was the furthest I’d gone. Ever. Even in my imagination. We’d left the shirt and were two skips away from Mordor.

Aaron was reaching into a cabinet.

My eyes swam.

“So, you want it rough up the ass?”

I choked on the liqour as he set a bottle of lube down on the side table next to me.

“I’m going to destroy your pussy before I take your ass, Princess,” he hissed against my mouth. “Since you want to be my cum slut so much.” There was that flash of predator.

It was then I realized that I had miscalculated, that I didn’t really want the predator. I needed a very long, slow, boring buildup to sexual intercourse. I needed slow lovemaking, not a rough fuck.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he purred. “Turn around and show me your tight little ass, Princess. Let me eat it first before I give you my cock.”

The boxer briefs slid down, and I screamed like he was about to murder me because he was.

“What the fuck is that?” I hollered, sobering right the fuck up when that enormous cock appeared, thick and erect as it jutted out from him.

“That’s not real. That can’t be real,” I babbled.

“Coleman, what the fuck?”

I scrambled back in the chair, the gin bottle falling with a thud and spilling on the carpet.

“Do not put that inside me. Oh my god, I didn’t realize it was going to look like that! Is that normal?”

His lips curled back as I grabbed a pillow and held it in front of me protectively.

“You—” he fumed. Furious, he reached for my pillow.

I slapped his hands away.

“Sorry. Reflex.” I swallowed. Did some quick breathing exercises. “Just get me another martini, and I’ll be ready. Just not expecting that was all.” I laughed nervously. “It’s not like the movies, ha ha.”

Shit.

I should have kept my stupid mouth shut.

He bared his teeth as the horrible realization dawned on him.

“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” I squeaked, hiding my face.

“You are a motherfucking virgin, Coleman? What the fuck?” Aaron stalked around the sitting room, picking up his clothes. “I should have known, I should have fucking known , you were going to pull some shit like this on me. Fuck you, Coleman.” He pointed at me then fastened his belt. “Fuck. You.”

“No, we have to consummate the marriage!” I chased after Aaron as he stormed out of the sitting room. “I’m not that kind of a virgin. I can have sex. I just need you to go a little slower and probably need another drink.” The marble floor felt cold under my feet.

“I am not going to fuck you, Coleman.” He turned on me. “You’re fucking sick. What the fuck were you saving yourself for?”

“It wasn’t on purpose.” Tears welled in my eyes. “And it’s your fault anyway.”

“This is not my fault,” he snarled in my face. “It’s yours for not losing it when you were eighteen like a normal person.”

The tears ran down my numb cheeks.

“People can lose their virginity when it’s the right time for them.”

“Save your afterschool special bullshit, Coleman.” He threw his arms up. “This marriage is over. This contract is over. I am not fucking some innocent virgin. I don’t care how much money it costs me.”