Now I can’t even trust my own legs.
A smile pulls at his lips, and it’s all I can do not to melt.
Time creeps to a still as we get into range of him, every detail of his face standing out with captivating clarity.
I force air into my lungs, willing myself to remain calm—detached.
I truly thought that after suicide jumping from his car, we were through with all this. Now facing him again, I feel completely overwhelmed.
Reluctantly, I find myself in front of him, my eyes taking in his form with traitorous appreciation.
Despite my wishes, I can’t seem to stop staring at my husband.
29
Anton
Saturday: 4:22 Pm
Mysti May says a few words to Percy that I can’t make out from where I’m standing.
I can assume from Percy’s reaction that it’s something in my favor.
Percy herself may want to run from this—even going as far as jumping from my fucking car—but her girls want to see her stand her ground.
They may be her friends—her sisters even—but it’s my side that they’re on in this whole situation. They know that I make Percy happy and that I love her immensely.
It helps that Mysti May herself is a real stickler for happy endings.
Maybe I’ll set her up with one of my friends as a thank you. I have plenty of wealthy friends and colleagues that would be right up Mysti’s alley.
I just need to settle this situation with Percy and myself first.
Mysti is practically pulling Percy up to me.
“Alright, Anton. She’s all yours,” Mysti says, a bit flustered.
Percy can put up quite the fight when she wants to.
“Thank you, Mysti. Say hi to everyone for me,” I reply gratefully.
“You, work this shit out. Pronto,” Mysti orders, points her finger at Percy.
Percy narrows her eyes at her friend in annoyance. Straightening herself up, Mysti leaves Percy and me to some privacy.
“So, what do you want now?” Percy asks.
“I wanted to take you someplace special so that we could talk.”
“So where’s the car?”
“Oh, no, I’m not falling for that again. Last time we were in a car, you jumped out. This time we walk.”
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? Well, there’s never a second time with me.
I learn rather quickly from my mistakes.
“Alright then, lead the way.”
It’s quiet between us at first. Percy’s doing her best to act tough and stand her ground.
It’s rather adorable really. A bit pre-teenish but adorable all the same.
Her resolve fails after a couple of blocks.
Slowly, she begins to drift closer to me as we stroll through the beautiful city until—finally—her hand finds mine. Our fingers intertwine.
It lasts for only a minute however.
Once Percy realizes what she’s done, she immediately takes her hand back, staring angrily at the appendage like it’s to blame.
I stifle my laughter, allowing a fairly uncomfortable silence to settle around us.
Shortly thereafter, we arrive at our intended destination.
“The Van Gogh Museum? Really?” Percy looks at me with a confused look that matches her tone.
“Yes, the Van Gogh Museum.”
“And why here?”
“You’ll see. Come on.”
I try to grab her hand, but her sneer stops me in my tracks. Instead, I gesture towards the door, allowing her to take the lead.
The lobby of the museum is large and spacious. The oversized windows allow for the sun to flood the area with light and warmth.
The sound of her heels against the floor echoes through the entryway and crushes the lingering silence.
“Where the fuck is everyone?”
She looks at me perplexed.
My lips turn upward into a smirk.
“I’ve arranged for us to have some alone time,” I reveal. “I had the director close the doors to the public today.”
“How the fuck did you manage that?”
“I’m rich, and I’m royalty. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
It also helps when the director of the museum owes me a dozen favors, too. If it hadn’t been for my assistance, the museum would be missing several valuable pieces from their collection.
Indiana Jones has nothing on me.
“So what’s the point of bringing me here anyway?”
“You’ll see, Percy,” I respond with a wink.
With a nod of my head, I motion for her to follow me.
There’s something eerie—yet enchanting—at having the museum to ourselves. All the wide, open space that is meant to hold hundreds of people stands hauntingly empty, save for the two of us.
It’s like we’re two travelers traversing the vast ocean with no other ships in sight.
“Does any of this feel familiar to you?” I inquire as we pass from painting to painting.
“I don’t know. Should it?” She looks over at me with a curious glance.
“Yes, it should.”
“Okay. Care to enlighten me?”
“Well, this is where it all began the first time and the last time.”
The look in her eyes shifts from curiosity to annoyance.
“Can’t you just give me a straight fucking answer, Anton? No more of these little fucking clues or hints. No more games. Just tell me why the fuck you brought me here.”
I can understand her exasperation. Fuck, if I was in her Louboutins, I’d demand straight answers myself.
“This is where we first met, Percy.”
“No, it isn’t. We met in New Orleans during Mardi Gras.”
“No, that was our third meeting.” I laugh softly with a shake of my head. “We met here first. You were here with Mysti and Becky. It was a day trip from when you were staying in Paris. You approached me and asked what I thought was my favorite painting of Van Gogh’s. I said it was Garden With Courting Couples.”
“I did?” She raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Yes, and when you asked me why I said that, it was because I always like to imagine that the couples in the paintings had a secret fetish for fucking outdoors and that Van Gogh happened to catch them after a particularly dirty romp. You laughed at my answer and asked if I like it outdoors.”
“Yeah, that sounds like me,” Percy says with a small laugh of her own.
“That’s when you took me to one of the bathrooms and you sucked my cock for the first time.”
“Yeah, that sounds like me, too.”
She turns away from me to look at the aforementioned painting before us. Percy’s eyes look over the masterpiece as if seeing a former lover whose return is unexpected but welcome.
“Bet you don’t know my favorite painting of his,” she taunts.
“I bet you that I do,” I counter with a grin.
I take Percy by the hand and lead her deeper into the museum.
I see the wheels start to turn bit by bit in her mind. It’s as if she is slowly remembering events of our past like the sun rising over the crest of the horizon.
All I have to do is wait for the dawn.
I lead Percy to Starry, Starry Night.
Normally the piece is housed in New York’s Museum of Modern Art—and has been a permanent fixture of their collection since 1941—but it has been loaned to the Van Gogh museum for a summer exhibition. Again, all courtesy of yours truly.
“This is your favorite. Has been since you were a little girl. You told me your parents took you the museum in New York one summer and you fell in love with it right away. That Starry, Starry Night is responsible for your love of post-impressionism art.”
“I’ve never told anyone that,” she says with surprise.
“Nobody except me. Though, admittedly, you only told me this last night when we were here.”
“Wait, we were here last night?”
<
br /> “Yes, we were. I knew you were a fan of Van Gogh so I had us here after hours so you could see the painting. That’s when you told me that story about your parents. It’s also when you kissed me and told me that you loved me.”
Percy’s lips part in surprise and uncertainty. Her eyes turn away from me to Van Gogh’s famous painting.
I can almost see the light bulb in her brain turn on.
She remembers now. She remember us here last night and everything that had followed after.
Finally, dawn has come.
30
Percy
Friday 11:15 Pm
My heart is racing, and my skin is crawling with anticipation. The historic splendor is almost too much. Banging here seems almost wrong, like artistic blasphemy.
Anton quickly pulls down his zipper, and before I know it, his cock is waiting, pressed between my pussy lips.
On second thought, I can live with the shame were this ever to surface. His cock is fucking worth it. The desire to keep going with him and pushing him to get even crazier with me is too strong.
I can’t fight it.
I’ve always been an art buff. I fucking love studying influential artists and the styles that manifested through different time periods. It’s all so fascinating.
So, the idea of boning in a museum entirely dedicated to Van Gogh’s work is enough to get me hot and bothered, even without a cock in my presence.
In a mere moment, I’ve grown impatient with Anton’s teasing and arch my back, forcing his cock inside of me. I push back against him, and he grabs my hips and pulls them towards him, pushing his cock all the way inside.
He knows better than to keep me waiting. I want what I want, when I want it. And I want it fucking now.
God fucking damn.
His cock is marvelous.
I stare forward, right into Starry, Starry Night placed perfectly before us. It’s almost like someone set this here for this exact purpose. Fucking while admiring a Vincent Van Gogh original is quite a statement of admiration.
The dim lights throughout the museum creates a spectacular romantic atmosphere. The ambiance feels decidedly unique, like this is an experience I could only get here.
Anton thrusts his cock harder, and he’s fully inside me. It sends a jolt through my body. Everything else seems to cease around us, my focus entirely occupied by new sensations.
His hand slides up my back, tracing my spine. I shudder and sway my ass, moving his cock around inside me. I continue to sway, just to keep feeling that glorious fucking cock deep in my pussy.
His cock is hitting my G-spot relentlessly, forcing my entire body to shake against him. Before I know it, I’m on the verge of exploding all over him.
“I’m going to come!” I shout.
“Come for me, Percy. Come all over my fucking cock!” he shouts back, our voices echoing throughout the empty museum.
No one and nothing can hear us but Van Gogh’s legacy as I moan and whimper, gushing cum all over him.
To no surprise, Starry, Starry Night now has a splash of evidence from our little bang session. I can’t fucking tell where, but I know it’s there. The thought only turns me on more.
Anton pulls his cock from my pussy. I stand and turn around, still catching my breath from my most recent orgasm.
With no pause, no warning, he takes my shoulder and forces me to my knees. His hand is on my head, and I’m staring at his cock, now at eye level with me.
Fuck. Yes.
I take the head of his cock into my mouth and flick my tongue along his frenulum. I look up at him, and he meets my gaze.
He sighs, content, and whispers, “that’s right, Percy.”
I smile, his cock still in my mouth. Just then, he gives my head a light push to take more of him between my lips.
I oblige and swirl my tongue around his cock as much as I can. I bring my hand up to his balls and massage them.
I keep sucking passionately, my fervor driven more and more as I listen to him. “Oh, Percy,” he moans, whispering between ragged breaths.
I move my hand up and place it at the edge of my lips wrapped around his cock. I begin stroking and sucking him at the same time, my tongue running up and down his cock. He moans in approval.
I pull my mouth from him and continue stroking his spit-slicked cock. He pushes his hips forward, and his cock is throbbing. The sight of his pleasure alone is driving me wild.
I want him back inside me. My pussy lips are aching with greedy desire.
“Oh, don’t stop, Persephone,” Anton moans.
It drives me fucking crazy when he uses my full first name.
He puts his hand on the back of my head again and grips my hair, gently but forcefully at the same time. I resist briefly, tensing my neck and shoulders, attempting to savor some bit of control before finally letting him guide my mouth back onto his cock.
My pussy is already fucking drenched again from the sexual energy flowing between us. I take a deep breath, and his cock slides further into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat.
He rests there for a moment, then begins thrusting his cock into my mouth. His smell is intoxicating.
Anton’s sexy, commanding demeanor will be my downfall. I take in a deep breath and accept his cock into my throat as he thrusts back and forth.
Anton moans and grunts, and I can feel his fingers tense and relax with each thrust into my throat.
I take my hand and grip the back of his thigh. His pants create a barrier, preventing me from scraping my nails down his bare leg like I want to, but the sensation is enough to drive him over the edge.
I hear him panting and feel his cock fill before his hot cum shoots out, hitting the back of my throat. He explodes in my mouth, filling it to the brim almost immediately. Cum drips out from the corners of my lips, down my chin and all over my tits.
I take my hand and stroke the exposed portion of his cock while I continue to suck him off. I suck hard, and when every last delicious drop of cum is finally extracted, I gently release his cock.
I open my mouth and show him the product of our hard work. He smiles, pleased with me.
Anton kneels down and tilts my chin up to him, and I greet his lips with my own, sealing our passion with a kiss. Our lips begin to part, and as I open my mouth slightly, I find Anton’s tongue pressing inward, wanting to taste his cum in my mouth.
I open my mouth wider, and our tongues meet. As our lips part and our faces draw near, I smile broadly at him. No one has ever been so willing—or able—to fulfill my fantasies.
“How was that for exciting, Anton?” I ask.
“Wonderful, Perce. This is something you said you wanted to do while we were here, remember?”
Of course I do. But the fact that he remembered as well sends flutters racing through my heart.
“It was. But now that I’ve got what I wanted, let’s go somewhere a little more up your alley. It’ll be fun!” I suggest, pulling at his hand.
He smirks up at me. “Alright. But remember, you asked for it.”
31
Percy
Saturday 12:06 Am
“I know you may be hesitant with this, but you’re going to have to trust me. It might seem a bit strange, but just go with it, okay?”
I roll my eyes at the notion that he could surprise me. “Okay, Silver Fox.”
As we walk into the room, I realize I’ve been pulled into a deeply macabre-looking space. My eyes widen, and a lump forms in my throat.
We’re standing in the middle of some kind of torture chamber. The walls around us are completely covered in an array of devilish looking instruments. On the floor and lining the space are larger devices, some donned with blades, others metal gadgets, and one even seems to be wrapped in barbed wire.
My confidence seems to shatter inside of me.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
“Come over here, Perce,” he says, beckoning me further into the room.
Anton brings
me to a chair that’s been set in the center of the room. It’s made of wrought iron but resembles a low, dining room chair with a red crushed velvet cushion and straps dangling wildly from it.
I don’t know what to expect from it or what it’s purpose was back in medieval times or whatever, but I know for sure that tonight it’ll be put to different use.
Despite my earlier confidence, I’m intimidated. I promised Anton a good time, but now that we’re here, I’m more than a little hesitant.
My thoughts are interrupted by Anton.
“Hold onto the back of the chair,” he says.
I shoot him a look but decide to comply anyway, gripping the top of the chair with my knuckles resting on it. Anton takes the straps on the front and pulls them around to the back, locking me to the strange piece of furniture.
Behind us is a huge depiction of someone succumbing to a stretching machine, which is unbelievably morbid.
I don’t know why, but I can’t turn my eyes away.
My hands are locked in place. He gives the straps a tug for good measure, and I feel the leather rub just slightly against my wrists. The sensation shoots a jolt of excitement through my body.
“Spread your legs, Percy. As far apart as you can get them,” Anton instructs.
I do as he asks, feeling a thrill of electricity shoot through me as he takes the leg straps and pulls them up, tying my lower half to the bottom of the chair.
As a result, my legs can’t come together at all. My ass is in the air, stuck out, forced because of the two restraints and the position he’s put me in.
I look behind me and see a grinning Anton, now wielding a torture instrument of some kind.
“Umm, whatcha got there, Silver Fox?”
He laughs and approaches me, a wand in his hand, covered in leather, with what looks like a thin mop head made of other wispy straps of solid black leather.
I watch him in the mirror as he takes the item and raises it so the tips are just grazing my spine.
The Proposal Problem: A Billionaire Royal Hangover Romance Page 13
