Chapter 20 #4
My cock throbbed inside her, her body milking me, teasing me toward the brink of no return.
She was so close, her body tightening, her breath coming faster, shallower.
Her eyes met mine, glazed with lust, with love, with utter surrender.
“Who do you belong to?” I roared, slamming into her, forcing her to feel every inch of my claim.
Her head fell back, her lips parted in a cry of pleasure, her body clamping around me, gripping, milking, owning me as much as I owned her.
“To YOU—only to you!” she gasped.
She shattered—her body arching, convulsing around me, her walls tightening, pulsing, dragging me deeper into the abyss of her pleasure.
Her cries broke against my skin, wrecked, lost in rapture.
I couldn’t hold back—wouldn’t hold back.
A guttural growl ripped from my chest, my body driven beyond the edge, my control obliterated.
I slammed deep, my cock jerking, pulsing, filling her, claiming her from the inside out, marking her in the most primal way possible.
Her thighs trembled, her nails raked my back, her breath ragged and uneven, her body spent, ruined, gloriously wrecked beneath me.
Her moans turned into whimpers, soft and shaky, her body still milking me, pulling me deeper into her intoxicating heat.
I drove into her one last time, burying myself to the hilt, feeling her tight, wet warmth lock around me, my seed spilling deep inside as she cried out my name, her pleasure cresting like a violent storm.
Nothing else existed.
Only us.
Our moans filled the air, melding with the symphony of sin below, where bodies writhed and screamed in pleasure.
It felt as if the entire house was caught in the same wild, frenzied climax, as if our rapture had ignited a fire that spread through the walls, the floors, and the air.
We soared—untethered, uninhibited, like two stars colliding in an explosion of heat and light, lost in a moment of pure, uncontrollable ecstasy.
I held onto that feeling and clung to it, my breath still ragged, my body buzzing, and I trembled with the aftershocks of what we’d done.
But then—
Reality came crashing back down.
We fell back into the silence of this secret room, into the looming danger waiting just beyond the open bookcase.
I pressed my forehead to hers, stroking her damp, disheveled hair, my breath mingling with hers, still drunk on the scent of our passion, and the taste of her skin.
“Olivia.” I breathed her name, reverence, and hunger still lingering in my voice. No other words were needed.
Not after what we’d just shared.
But I felt the moment breaking, the reality seeping in, cold. Her body tensed beneath me, her gaze looking past my shoulder to the hidden doorway we had unknowingly encountered.
“Roman, we’re in danger.”
The urgency in her voice dispelled the haze of pleasure, her fingers pressing against my chest, pushing me away, forcing me back to the reality we’d ignored for too long.
“We can’t linger. I came here for the Sun Dagger, and we have to get out. Now.”
Of course. The mission. The danger.
The moment of madness was over.
“Raul Costa,” I said.
“He’s the host,” I added, my mind catching up.
She shook her head. “No. He’s not just the host, Roman. He’s a dangerous man. He will destroy us if he finds us and discovers what we are.”
Olivia’s expression shifted as she took in the dagger tattoo. My doublet lay discarded from our frenzied lovemaking, leaving the inked blade exposed.
“When did you get this? It’s beautiful,” she asked, voice soft, reverent.
“In Seattle,” I murmured. “When we were apart.”
Her eyes darkened with something unreadable before urgency overtook her features. She scrambled to find my jacket and, upon spotting it, thrust it at me.
“Put this on. If anyone here sees that mark, they’ll apprehend you, torture you, then kill you. That’s what the Timehunters do. And Raul is one of them.”
I stilled, gripping the fabric. “How do you know this?” I asked, reaching for my breeches.
“I’ve learned many things in our time apart,” she said.
But I had already stopped listening—something across the room had caught my eye.
“Olivia, look.” I nodded toward an arched opening at the far end of the dark chamber.
She turned. “What?”
“That archway. Where do you think it leads?”
Her breath hitched. “Let’s find out. But we need light.”
Though her undergarments were useless, she adjusted her skirt and petticoats, shredded by my impatience.
We searched the office until we found a beeswax candle, a pewter holder, and a tinderbox. Inside, a sliver of brimstone-coated wood, a flint, a steel striker, and charred rags for tinder.
I worked the striker against the flint, sparks dancing until a flicker of flame caught. I lit the brimstone, then held the makeshift match to the candle wick.
The glow came to life, illuminating the space.
“I’ve got light,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We stepped toward the hidden passage, slipping into the dark space behind the bookshelf.
The air was thick, humming with the echoes of what had just transpired between us. The room felt different now—marked, altered, christened by our love.
I lifted the candle higher, its dim light barely penetrating the black ahead.
“It looks like a staircase,” I murmured, gesturing to the archway.
Olivia gripped my arm, her excitement palpable. “Maybe the dagger is down there.”
Before I could respond, she shoved the bookshelf back into place, sealing us inside.
I turned to her, brows furrowed. “Why did you do that?”
“If Costa finds out we’ve breached this corridor, we’re as good as dead.” Her grip on my arm tightened. “We have to move quickly.”
I exhaled, nodding. Then, lifting the candle, I let its light spill down the ancient stone steps.
And with a calming breath, I took the first step into the unknown.