Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
MAGGIE
Steam curls out of the bathroom as Roman showers. I’m surprised there’s any hot water left after I got out. It had taken a while to try to wash the evening’s grime from myself.
Bloody Eliza.
Literally.
She’s taken on more in the family business, and she’s doing it with gusto. But I’m going to have to reinforce my boundaries. It’s too easy for me to let her skip over them while thrusting dead bodies at me.
I’m padding around our apartment in one of Roman’s T-shirts. It still feels like a dream whenever I spot his belongings mingling with mine. His protein powder is next to my Costco-sized bag of mini cinnamon rolls. His wallet tossed in the bowl with my keys.
I love it.
I love him. The way he always sneaks out of bed before me so he can wake me with a hot cup of tea.
I haven’t had to wash a single item of clothing since he moved in a few weeks ago.
The way he thanks me with every meal I make, and indulges me when I want to grab takeout instead.
Even though he’ll have to work a bit harder in the gym.
I love the way he holds me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. Sending me cute dog and cat memes while I’m at work because he knows it makes me smile.
His jacket hangs on the back of the sofa, and I pick it up to move it to the hooks by the door.
Something solid knocks against my thigh. His phone? I reach in, and my fingers close around something small.
Excitement fills my stomach as I pull it out. A green ring box.
Roman comes into the sitting room in nothing but a towel slung low around his chiselled hips. His dark hair curls near the temples.
‘Oh shit. Maggie… you weren’t supposed to find that.’
My heart is trying to batter its way out of my ribcage.
‘Does this mean what I think it does?’
He crosses the room, taking my face in his hands, droplets still clinging to his skin.
‘As long as you think it means I want to spend the rest of my life with you, then yes.’
Tears prick as I look at his perfect face.
‘Really?’ I whisper. ‘Are you sure? After today, I thought you might have reservations. I come with homicidal relatives who’ve got no boundaries.’
‘I know exactly what you come with,’ he says, planting kisses on my jaw. ‘I still choose you. Every day. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’
The tears flow unbidden. Roman makes me feel good enough.
‘Is that a yes?’ he murmurs against my lips.
‘Fuck, yes.’
He scoops me into his arms and kisses me hard, both of us laughing between swipes of his tongue.
He pulls back long enough to take the box and open it.
The ring catches the light, a beautifully set emerald that steals my breath. It’s perfect.
He slides it onto my finger and drops to his knees.
‘My future wife.’
The word sends a shiver straight through me with the almost reverent way he says it.
I stare at my hand through the blurry tears.
‘I’m going to make you laugh every day. Make you feel loved. Make sure you have enough orgasms that you never have to hump your pillow again. Unless you want to, in which case I vow to whisper filthy things in your ear while you do.’
I laugh as he moves closer to me, his hands pressing my oversized t-shirt up until his lips meet my flesh.
‘Roman,’ I whisper, threading my hands into his thick hair.
‘I want to taste my fiancée.’
Holy fuck buckets. The growl he lets out when he says that makes me melt.
Against all odds, I feel like we’re going to make it work. To go through life laughing and loving, and coming until we’re old and wrinkly.
His mouth is on me in a flush of divine heat, and I’m lost within seconds of the twists of his tongue.
Good god, I love his damn tongue. He’ll have me coming within two minutes if I let him. But I want more.
I pull back and almost lose my nerve at the sad little face he makes when he looks up at me.
‘If you can catch me, you can fuck me,’ I breathe, a bratty lilt in my voice.
The way his eyes darken tells me that I’ve hit just the right cord to draw out the darker, more dominant side of him. We stare at each other for a breath before I launch myself into a run.
The apartment is small, and there aren’t a lot of places to actually run, so I launch myself over the couch as he makes a grab for me, rolling to my knees before dashing for the bedroom.
‘Maggie. You know I’m going to catch you. Give up, and I’ll go easy on you.’
I laugh and flash my backside at him as I make it to the bed. ‘Maybe I want you to go hard.’
‘Princess, you’ll regret that.’
‘I fucking hope so. Show me what you’ve got, fiance.’
I trip over an abandoned jumper as he lunges for me, Roman’s finger tips scraping my t-shirt as I right myself and duck past him, running back for the sitting room. His footsteps thunder behind me as adrenaline spikes.
Within two more steps, his hand closes on the back of my shirt, hauling me back against a hard wall of chest. He’s lost his towel at some point, his gloriously hard cock jutting into my back.
I laugh as he sinks a hand into my hair and bends me over the sofa. I expect him to slide into me, but he steals my breath with a hard spank to my naked ass.
‘Roman,’ I squeal.
‘Brats get punished, you know that.’
Hell, I was counting on it.
‘Fuck me,’ I beg, squirming as he lands another smack on my other cheek.
‘Show me how badly you want my cock, Maggie.’
I huff out a breath as a series of hard spanks overwhelms my senses, the pain enhancing my neediness.
‘I want it.’
Smack.
‘I need it.’
Smack.
‘I need you.’
Roman slides his fingers roughly inside me and leans down over my back to groan in my ear. ‘So I can see, my pretty little cockwhore. So fucking wet for me.’
‘Always,’ I whimper when he stretches his fingers inside me.
Gripping my hair tight, he pushes me onto the floor, face down and ass up. My favourite place to be.
I wriggle when he presses his swollen tip to my entrance, desperate to be filled with him.
‘I can’t wait to fuck you like the mouthy brat you are for the rest of my goddamned life,’ he grunts before thrusting his cock deep inside me.
I scratch at the rug, pleasure blooming. No matter how often we fucked, in every position under the sun, sweetly or like feral animals, I’d never tire of that first perfect thrust. Every time, it makes me turn into a submissive puddle.
He slays the brat in me with his fat dick every single time.
And I crave that first moment of deliciously stretched sweetness almost as much as the orgasms I know he’s about to give me.
Roman pulls out and holds my hips, keeping me empty until I beg again.
And again.
And again.