Chapter 30
KATIE
I lift my hand to Roan’s shoulder and press him back gently—just enough space to see him properly.
His green eyes scorch me with his quiet, desperate hunger, like he’s seconds away from losing control and devouring me.
It’s an intoxicating rush, making my whole body hum and my head spin with dizzying delight.
My fingers trail down his shirt, slow on purpose, as I start undoing the buttons one by one.
He stiffens under my touch. “What are you doing?” His voice comes out low and rough, edged with barely restrained need.
I smirk, a wicked thrill shooting through me. “Opening your shirt. What does it look like?”
I finish with the last button, then push the fabric off his shoulders, exposing all that hard, beautifully sculpted muscle, the dog tag glistening against his chest. I lean in and kiss the side of his neck, breathing him in.
He smells like clean sweat and musk and that familiar, utterly addicting cologne. My lips drift down to his collarbone, then lower, until I find his nipple. I wrap my mouth around it and suck gently, testing the waters. Is he sensitive here? Will it make him as wild as it makes me?
His hands sink into my hair as he lets out a deep, rough groan that rips through me and settles like a hot coal between my legs. My thighs clench instinctively, my panties already embarrassingly soaked.
I release his nipple and move down, dragging my mouth across the firm muscles of his stomach, down past his navel with singular purpose. I drop to my knees and reach for his belt, my fingers already working the buckle. I want to ruin him for anyone else, just like he’s ruined me. It’s only fair.
Before I can finish, his hand slaps mine away, and he undoes it himself—fast, almost frantically, like he can’t wait another second. He shoves his pants and boxers down together and his cock springs free.
Thick. Hard. The tip flushed and already leaking.
I lick my lips without thinking, and Roan’s eyes go even darker, pupils blown wide with lust.
“Hungry for my cock, love?” he growls, wrapping one hand around the base. He drags the head across my lips, smearing his precum there like lipstick, like a claim. “Look at you. So beautiful on your knees for me. So needy. So mine.”
“And you’re mine,” I breathe back. Without waiting for his permission, I take the head into my mouth, hot and heavy on my tongue, then sink down slowly.
My hand wraps around the base above his, stroking as my lips work him.
He lets go, and I take over, building a rhythm, watching every raw reaction flicker across his face.
Another groan escapes from his throat, deep and unfiltered, as he slaps his free hand against the door behind me.
The other stays firm in my hair, not forcing, just holding, like he needs the anchor.
His cock throbs between my lips, and I squeeze my thighs again, the ache between them practically unbearable.
I hollow my cheeks and take him deeper, letting him hit the back of my throat, working past my gag reflex.
I want to drive him over the edge. Want to make him lose that iron control he holds so fiercely.
“Fuck, Katie,” he growls, voice absolutely wrecked, his hips flexing up just slightly. “Just like that, baby. Perfect.”
His praise hits me like a drug, fueling the way I move on him, making my core clench desperately around nothing.
My tongue slides along the underside of his cock, tracing that prominent vein that makes him twitch every time I pay attention to it.
I cup his balls gently, massaging them as I suck him harder, faster, pushing him closer to the brink.
He mutters something under his breath, his voice too low for me to catch, and it only fuels my hunger for more.
I want him shaking above me. Want him destroyed.
I want to know, unequivocally, that I’m the only one who can do this to him, and I want him to realize that too, to brand it onto his very soul.
I glance up through my lashes, and his eyes are locked on me, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling in ragged gasps like he’s fighting to hold himself back.
No. Don’t you dare.
I suck him harder, swirling my tongue around the sensitive head before taking him deep again. His whole body goes rigid, tension humming through him.
“I’m close, baby,” he warns, voice strained. “You keep going like that and I’ll—”
I don’t stop. Don’t even slow down. I grip his thigh tighter with one hand and bob my head faster, sucking deep and hard until he lets out a strangled groan, the rest of his warning dissolving into a guttural curse that sounds like a prayer.
His hold in my hair turns painful as his body jerks and shudders, his cock pulsing on my tongue as he comes.
I swallow everything, keeping my mouth on him until the last tremor fades, licking him clean with slow, deliberate strokes.
When I finally pull back, he looks down at me like I just ruined him, his chest heaving with his ragged breathing, his eyes dark with a myriad of emotions I can’t quite decipher.
Then something dark sparks in his gaze. “You’re in for it now, young lady,” he says roughly, scooping me up under the arms as if I’m nothing but air.
I gasp, clutching his shoulders for balance as he starts walking with long, purposeful strides towards his desk. “Roan—”
No answer. He just rounds his desk and lays me flat on my back across the polished surface.
The chair scrapes closer as he sits between my legs.
Then, without any preamble whatsoever, my skirt is shoved up to bunch around my belly, fully exposing my thong.
He groans, running his fingers over the soaked material almost reverently.
“Sucking me off did this to you?” His eyes are dark as midnight, burning into me as they meet mine.
A hard swallow catches in my throat, heart hammering a frantic rhythm as I give a small nod.
He drags his tongue across his lips, a tempting, deliberate motion that steals my breath.
Then, with a slow seductive grace, he hooks his fingers into my thong and eases it down my thighs.
I moan when the cool office air kisses my naked cunt, the sudden, shocking sensation making me shiver.
He lifts the discarded lace to his nose, and I can’t help but arch off the table as his eyes fall shut, his body shuddering like the very scent of my arousal is the most potent aphrodisiac he’s ever encountered.
The thong vanishes, tossed into a drawer, and before I can protest, he’s grabbing my thighs and spreading them wide, not giving me a single second to think or prepare. More wetness gushes out of me, leaking down onto his desk. My body’s on fire, my clit throbbing needily.
Then his mouth is on me.
I cry out, fingers digging into the edge of the desk as my back arches clean off the surface.
His tongue is relentless—no teasing, no gradual warm-up, just pure, unadulterated determination.
He eats me out like a man starved, like he needs my cum more than oxygen.
His large hands hold my thighs apart while his talented tongue works over my clit, firm and precise, until my body’s jerking with every delicious stroke.
“Roan—oh my god—” I gasp, trying to close my legs against the overwhelming sensation, but he pins me down even harder.
“You can take it,” he growls against my sensitive flesh, his breath hot and rough and making everything more intense. “You wanted to play, baby? Then take what you asked for.”
I’m unraveling fast. The pressure building inside me is almost unbearable, coiling tighter and tighter.
His tongue dips, circles my entrance, then returns to my clit, sucking hard enough that my vision whites out and stars explode behind my eyes.
I grab his hair, desperate for something solid, but it’s useless.
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up for even a second.
My body feels like it’s levitating, hovering in that impossible space between pleasure and insanity.
I’m so close it actually hurts.
He slips one finger inside me while sucking on my clit, and I lose it.
I cry out his name—loud, raw, and probably audible throughout the entire house—as my orgasm rips through me, my whole body shuddering on the desk.
He holds me down and keeps going until I’m shaking uncontrollably, until I’m literally begging him to stop, until my voice breaks.
Finally, he lifts his head. His lips are wet and glistening, eyes dark with something that looks dangerously close to possession.
“That’s right, baby,” he murmurs darkly, lashing his tongue across my oversensitive clit one last time.
“Scream my name. Let everyone in this house know who you belong to.”
I should stop him. Should tell him not to say things like that when he doesn’t really mean them.
But I don’t. Because some stupid, achingly hopeful part of me wants to belong to him.
And right now, in this moment of shattered pleasure, I think I already do.
And I desperately want him to belong to me as well, to be branded as mine.
Roan gets on his feet, towering over me where I’m still sprawled across his desk like an offering, and his cock is already hard again.
My stomach tightens at the way he’s looking at me—hungry and wild and completely unhinged.
I don’t know how he does this to me. One look from him and I’m wet all over again, as if I didn’t just come so hard my heart is still racing.
He lifts me off the desk and kisses me, not rough and demanding like before, but soft and slow, like I’m something precious. It makes my chest ache and my toes curl at the same time, a confusing mix of emotions. Then he spins me around so fast my head spins with it.
Before I can even process what’s happening, he bends me over the desk.
His hand lands hard on my ass, sharp enough to pull a gasp from me.
I groan, my nipples dragging against the inside of my bra as my chest presses flat into the desk, sending another shock of arousal through me.
I suddenly realize I’m still fully dressed—except for the thong he stripped off earlier—and somehow that only makes it hotter.
He’s behind me, completely naked, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body even before he touches me.
He drags the thick head of his cock along my entrance—teasing, testing—and I can’t stop myself from pushing my hips back against him, desperate to have him inside me again, craving his fullness.
Then he sinks in.
Slowly. Deeply. Stretching me open all over again. A delicious invasion.
My cunt clamps around him instantly, greedy and tight, and he lets out a choked sound, something low and harsh in Albanian that I don’t understand. But the way he says it, the raw need in his voice, makes me even wetter.
He starts moving, not fast—just enough to make me feel every inch of him.
One hand on my waist, keeping me locked against him, the other fisted in my hair, controlling me, owning me.
My moans spill out unchecked, every thrust pulling a new one from my mouth.
I can't hold them back. I don’t want to.
I’m so far gone I don’t care how loud I’m being.
Then there’s a knock. Sharp. Controlled. “Roan,” Dhimiter calls through the door, his voice cold and unmistakably disapproving.
I freeze. My whole body goes tense, yet Roan doesn’t stop fucking me, his rhythm unwavering. My face burns with shame, even as my insides tighten again, clenching around him with every slow thrust.
There’s no way Dhimiter doesn’t know exactly what’s happening in here. No possible way he’s not hearing every sound. And that knowledge somehow only makes the whole thing more intense, more thrilling.
Roan slaps his hand over my mouth before I can make another sound. “Me ler rehat,” he barks in Albanian, the tone alone enough to shut anyone up.
Whatever he said works—there’s no answer from the other side of the door. Just heavy silence and the ghost of disapproval.
Then Roan starts fucking me harder.
Much harder.
His grip in my hair tightens as he pulls me back against him, forcing me to arch, each thrust deeper and more brutal than the last. My moans keep spilling out even under his palm, too loud, too needy.
Stopping them is no longer an option. I’m past the point of shame.
The only thing I can think about is how good he feels inside me, how badly I need to come again, how I might actually die if he stops.
His other hand slides down, finds my swollen, oversensitive clit, and the absolute second he touches me there, my body jerks.
It’s barely a graze, but I break. I clamp down around him, biting into his palm to muffle my scream as my orgasm rips through me.
My vision blurs, and sensation floods me, too big, too much—until I’m reduced to him, the thrusts, and the white-hot blaze tearing through my core.
Then Roan groans my name behind me, his voice broken with it.
“Fuck—Katie—goddamn it,” he grits out, hips stuttering as he pushes in one final time, burying himself as deep as physically possible.
I feel him spill inside me, hot and deep, and it only makes me shudder harder, another aftershock rolling through my oversensitized body.
We stay like that for long moments, both of us breathing hard, bodies pressed tight together, the office thick with heat and everything we just did.
I can still taste the shame from when Dhimiter knocked. Can still hear his cold voice echoing in my head, a reminder of reality waiting outside this room. But right now, none of it matters. Because the only thing I can feel is Roan. Still buried inside me, holding me like he never wants to let go.
I wanted to ruin him for anyone else, but he ruined me right back.
“You’re going to get me pregnant if you keep coming inside me without a condom,” I pant, glancing back at him.
There’s a shift in his expression, a stark, hungry desire that should probably frighten me. But it doesn’t.
God help me, it doesn’t frighten me at all.