Also? God, he was so good-looking it should probably be illegal, and with his face right in front of my hard-on…
“Oh my God,” I said, slapping my hands over it to hide it as that finally sank in. Hisfacewas right in front of myhard-on. “Sorry.”
He took both of my hands in his, moving them away and holding them there, so the thick ridge my shaft had made in my trousers was on full display, then gave me a wicked, wicked smile that had my toes curling against the marble floor.
“You havenothinghere to be sorry about,” he said, his voice a low growl and his eyes so hot I felt the heat from them shoot straight up my spine. “In fact, I hope I can help this particular part of you feel very happy after I feed you and your boyfriend, beautiful.”
My boyfriend?
Oh, he meant Jules.
Hearing it that way sounded so nice, though. Almost as nice as being able to call Roman “Daddy.”
“Will you let me do that for you?” he asked, keeping his eyes on mine even though my pecker was straining to break free and get to him. “Will you let me make you feel good, sweet boy?”
He.
Was.
Right.
There.
I sucked in a breath, trying to focus on something else. His words. What? Oh.
“Yes, Daddy,” I finally managed to answer, entirely sure I wouldn’t last long enough to eat all the things room service was sending up at this point. If he so much asbreathedon me…
But he didn’t.
Still keeping hold of my hands, he rose to his feet and led me over to the sofa. “Now, as I was saying before, little lamb, let’s get comfortable.”
He let me go and settled on the plush piece of furniture, then patted the seat next to him. I was frozen again, though. I really wished he hadn’t let go of me. I didn’t exactly feel out of place and awkward again, not with the way he’d just shown me he’d truly take care of me, but that was the thing. He’d had his hands on me. Kept me from falling. Lifted my feet and led me across the room, and it had all been perfect.
Couldn’t he just keep doing that?
Please?
“Isaac, sweetie,” Diva—er, no.Julesappeared in the bathroom doorway, sans wig and lashes, but with just enough eye makeup left that he still looked super sexy in an androgynous way that I’d never realized I was into until he’d started doing drag. “I thought I told you to be good for Daddy Roman while I was gone? Don’t make him sit there all by himself. We came up to the penthouse here with him so he wouldn’t be lonely this weekend, remember, my little cherry blossom?”
Jules winked, and I suddenly forgot all about my insistent hard-on, a hundred percent of my attention centering on the, um, cherry that he’d just mentioned. Er, the rosebud. My starfish?
Oh God. What did people actually call it outside of porn?
Jules grinned evilly, like he was reading my mind… or just trying to get me all worked up.
“Playing hard to get is all fine and good…” he teased, coming over to stand next to me. Without the boots on, he wasn’t much taller than me, and he trailed his talons—still firmly in place—in a line across my stomach, parallel to my belt.
Okay, he was definitely trying to get me all worked up.
And it was working.
“Jules,” Daddy growled. “What was that you just said about being good?”
Jules ignored him, leaning in to stage-whisper to me instead. “But if you keep it up, your new Daddy might decide he needs to spank you.”
An embarrassingly high-pitched noise escaped from my lips at the thought of Daddy Roman bending me over his knee—a thought my traitorous erection found unbearably hot, even if the rest of me was more than a little mortified at the idea that I might actually like something like that.
Well, if I was being totally honest, I was even more mortified at the thought of giving Daddy a reason to do it.
