Chapter 30 Theo
THEO
THE ELEVATOR DOORS opened onto the top floor of the Wynn, and we spilled out like we’d been shot from a cannon.
A very drunk, very happily married cannon.
Shep’s tie dangled around his neck, his shirt half untucked, and he was laughing so hard as he fumbled for the room key that I was surprised no one stuck their head out to tell us to shut the hell up.
Not that I was much better. I couldn’t even walk in a straight line, shoulder-checking the wall as I followed after him.
“Mr. President’s son,” I drawled. Every part of me felt warm and loose—except my cock. No amount of alcohol could dull the arousal Shep evoked in me. If anything, it made me even hotter. “How does it feel to be a married man?”
He spun around suddenly, completely off balance, and clasped his hands behind my neck, drawing me in closer, whiskey hot on his breath. “I think you mean Mr.—” A frown creased his forehead, an adorably confused expression on his face. “Fuck, what’s my name now?”
Even in a sober state, his name was like five hundred pages long, but with all the drinks we had, it took an extra amount of brainpower to fumble through.
“Shepard Winches— Wait, no. O’Neil. The third.” I grabbed his ass and yanked him toward me, sending us stumbling back into the wall. “Putain. Where does the Rinaldi go?”
He waggled his brows, a very un-Shep-like thing to do. “I think you know where,” he said suggestively.
My mouth fell open, and I crushed his hips against mine, rubbing my cock against his through too many damn layers of clothes. “Now that’s why I married you. Filthy fucker.”
A slow smile curved Shep’s mouth and he leaned in, taking my lower lip between his teeth. “How about this…Shep…Rinaldi.”
Through my liquified haze I didn’t grasp what he was telling me at first, because that seemed to make sense to me, but then I realized that was my last name, not his name—or he wanted it to be his name or—
“Don’t tease me,” I said, pushing against his chest, but he only gripped me tighter.
“You don’t like it?”
“I think I like it too much. But maybe don’t make a decision when you’ve had an entire bottle of whiskey.”
Even though, holy shit, the fact that he’d even said he might want to take my name in the first place had every part of me vibrating. So much so I needed to get him out of this hallway before a photo of our drunk asses mauling each other became the next front-page article.
I slapped his ass and pushed off the wall, sending him stumbling back and then laughing as he caught himself just in time. He patted down his pants, searching for something, and then reached into his pocket to pull out the key card.
“Found it,” he said, holding it up victoriously—
—only to immediately drop it.
“Oh fuck me.” He bent down to pick it up, muttering more curses and giving me an eyeful of that sweet ass.
“I will if you can manage to get the door open. Husband.” I had to keep saying it, otherwise I’d never believe we’d actually gone through with it.
We’d really gone to a chapel and promised ourselves to each other for life.
It had happened, there was video proof—but more than that, every second was seared into my memory forever.
Shep was my husband.
My husband who looked precariously close to losing the fight with gravity as he grasped at the card on the floor.
“You’re tipping over there,” I said, not doing much better as I started toward him like I could help him. We’d probably just end up rolling around on the Wynn’s exquisite carpeting and never get back up.
“Got it.” Shep straightened…ish, and made his way to the door. The first pass of the key card didn’t work and he cursed. “I’m never drinking again.”
“You’re adorable when you lie.”
He glared at me just as the door swung open, sending him staggering inside, with me following close on his heels.
“Putain, I should’ve carried you over the threshold,” I said as the door slammed shut behind us. “Isn’t that what you do on your wedding night?”
As the lights slowly warmed in the luxury suite, golden-hued and utterly romantic, Shep turned to face me, looking so damn sexy with his tie undone and dangling from his shoulders.
“I can think of better things we can do,” he said. Heat and desire swirled in his eyes, drawing me in like a magnet.
I’d long since lost my jacket somewhere, my white collared shirt unbuttoned halfway down my chest, my sleeves rolled up. I had to be a hot mess, but Shep was looking at me like he thought I was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
And God knew it was an absolute fact that no one turned me on the way my man did.
My husband.
I reached for the ends of his tie and pulled him to me, then slid my tongue along his lower lip.
“Open for me, Mr.…Rinaldi.” Damn, I really fucking loved the way that sounded—and so did Shep, judging by the low groan that rumbled through him.
As his mouth opened and I slipped inside, I drew the tie from around his neck and threw it to the ground. Then I smoothed my hands up under his jacket and pushed it off his broad shoulders so it landed with the discarded strip of material.
“I want you naked,” I whispered, as his muscles flexed under my palms and I started to flick the buttons free.
As the material parted, I glided my hands across the warm, delicious skin that came into view until his shirt was hanging off his arms, then I lowered my head and pressed my lips to his Adam’s apple.
“So fucking gorgeous,” I muttered, as Shep’s head fell back and I trailed my fingers down his chest to the button of his pants. I kissed my way down his body until I was on my knees in front of him.
God, I wanted him. It was hard to believe there’d ever been a time when I didn’t. But with the alcohol buzzing through me, I didn’t have the patience for slow and sweet—that would have to come later. What I wanted now was to show my husband just how desirable I found him.
“Shep?” I said from my place at his feet.
That’s right, the Prince of Monaco was on his knees.
I didn’t kneel for kings—but I would for him.
Shep stared down at me, hot desire swirling in his eyes, as I reached inside his pants and freed his cock. He speared a hand through my hair, his lips curving as he realized what I was about to do, then the sexy fucker gripped the base of his dick and rubbed the head of it against my cheek.
“You want something, husband?”
Fuck yes I did, and I wouldn’t be shy in asking for it.
“Let me taste you,” I said, and parted my lips.
A smile just this side of wicked curled Shep’s lips as he dragged his cock along my lower lip. “Put your tongue out.”
Would you look at that? Shep was a fucking deviant when he drank.
I stuck my tongue out, my own cock throbbing in anticipation of what he was about to do next.
But nothing prepared me for my intense reaction to his scent hitting my taste buds.
My dick jerked, warm, sticky pre-cum making a mess of my pants as Shep slid his cock up the middle of my tongue then said, “Suck me.”
Like a man in a trance, I immediately closed my lips around him and began to suck up and down his thick, steel-hard shaft.
The velvety smoothness of him on my tongue made me reach for my own cock and squeeze it tight.
The last thing I wanted to do was come before I was inside him, but between the taste, sound, and visual of Shep standing above me with his shirt undone and his pants open, I was embarrassingly close to doing just that.
“Oh fuck yes,” Shep moaned, flexing his fingers in the longer strands of my hair. “I knew I married you for a reason.”
I drew my lips off him and aimed a devilish smirk up at him. “You married me for my cock-sucking skills? I don’t remember them in your vows. Maybe you should recite them now.”
I flicked my tongue across the pre-cum gathering at the tip of his neglected dick, then settled back on my heels as though I had all the time in the world.
“You’re serious?” Shep pushed his hips forward, and I gave him a cheeky wink.
“You said it.”
“Hmm.” That rumble did nothing to quell the ache throbbing between my legs. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Oui, you did.”
Shep let go of my hair to trail his fingers down my cheek to my chin. When he gripped it between his fingers and angled my face up toward his, that worry I might come before him came back in a rush.
Jesus, he was sexy. With his flushed cheeks and that dangerous glint of arousal hinting at what was to come—namely us—I couldn’t wait to get him under me.
Well, maybe I could wait for whatever he was about to say next.
“Theodore Rinaldi, sexiest, most handsome, charming Prince of Monaco—”
“You’re off to a good start,” I said, and bit down on my lower lip.
“I love every single thing about you. From your gorgeous eyes, to your cunning wit, to your trouble-talking mouth that I love to shut up with my…cock.”
I wasn’t going to last. If he kept talking like this and looking like that, I was going to come right here in the suite’s living room before I even got my pants off.
“And luckily for me, you suck it like it’s one of your royal duties.”
I snorted, thinking that if that were the case, it might be the one duty I would show up for without complaint.
But for now, I wanted more than that. I wanted to take this delicious man into the next room and show him that tonight, the only duties I was interested in performing were my husbandly duties.
I moved back up to my knees, gripped his cock, and lowered my head to suck on the tip. After a few well-placed swipes of my tongue, I let him go with a satisfying pop and nuzzled my nose into the short hair at the base of his dick.
Shep’s hand moved to the back of my neck as I inhaled his scent, then I began to kiss my way up his treasure trail, abs, and chest. When I was back on my feet, he took my lips in a fierce kiss full of love and possession—something I was feeling myself.
“Come with me.” I laced my fingers with his and led him into our bedroom, needing him naked, needing him under me, needing him.