Chapter 29
Olivia
As I stood before the full-length mirror, dragging a brush through my hair, Malik’s voice made me jump.
“Olivia? Are you decent?”
I glanced at my robe-clad form. “Decent enough.”
I had been preparing to retire for the night, but sleep felt impossible. My mind wouldn’t quiet—not with my dagger in the hands of a brutal killer, not with Roman, Emily, and me forced to flee yet again.
Life in the twenty-first century had been so easy compared to this. Back then, my biggest concerns were income and relationship troubles. Running from demons and losing my only means of time travel to a monster had never been on my radar.
Malik appeared behind me in that uncanny, silent way, his emerald eyes gleaming in the mirror. His hands settled on my shoulders, grounding me.
“We’ll be leaving at dawn,” he murmured.
I tensed beneath his touch.
“Don’t worry, Olivia.” He leaned down, pressing a fleeting kiss to my shoulder before stepping back, giving me space.
Even with my boundaries firmly in place, my body still responded to him, drawn in by his sheer presence alone.
“Just be glad we’re ahead of the game. Balthazar is on babysitting duty. And he can’t exactly travel in time now, can he?” His satisfaction was unmistakable—like a cat smugly licking its lips after stealing a meal meant for someone else.
I twisted the brush in my hands. “I suppose.” But anxiety plagued me. Balthazar was a demon. And demons didn’t follow the rules.
Turning away, I crossed the room to my armoire, kneeling to retrieve the Sun Dagger from its resting place at the bottom. The moment I held it, a frown tugged at my lips.
I turned, lifting the blade for Malik to see. “Doesn’t this knife seem dull and lifeless? It’s hard to believe this blade can destroy all darkness. It looks… powerless.”
The dagger caught the dim candlelight, but there was no glow, no spark of the ancient magic it was rumored to hold—just cold steel, unmoving.
Malik waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, Olivia. Everything will work according to plan. Just get a good night’s rest.”
I mustered a weak smile and placed the dagger back in the armoire. When I turned, I leaned against the solid wood, exhaling loudly. “It’s going to be impossible to sleep tonight. I’m already so anxious. Traveling with a pregnant woman and a five-year-old is only going to make things harder.”
Malik smirked. “Relax. Marcellious, Roman, and I take our duty as protectors seriously. You have nothing to worry about.”
With that, he pivoted on his heel and left, vanishing into the corridor, leaving me in a frothy wake of fretfulness.
I wandered to the dark wood vanity, sank onto the cushioned stool, and resumed brushing my hair, each stroke doing little to ease my nerves.
The door creaked open.
Roman stepped inside, his smoldering gaze meeting mine in the mirror. His expression softened as he took in my restless movements.
“What’s wrong?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Everything.” I set the brush down with a thud.
“I feel like an idiot for losing my dagger. What kind of time traveler does that? It’s the most precious thing I own—the only thing that lets me move through time.
And I forgot about it? You knocked it out of my hand, and I got so flustered I just left it there? ”
Roman took off his boots and began unbuttoning his shirt. “We’ve dealt with worse, Olivia. Don’t dwell on it. We’ll get it back.”
I picked up the brush again, yanking angrily at a knot. “I guess. But I still feel like an idiot.”
Roman shrugged off another layer of clothing, his voice teasing. “What got you so distracted that you forgot your knife?”
I scowled at him in the mirror. “You.”
His brows lifted, amused.
I sighed dramatically, tossing the brush onto the vanity. “You got to me. Seeing you for the first time in forever—I forgot everything else.”
Roman’s smirk was predatory. “My point exactly. You need a moment of respite. You need to forget the world.”
He rose to his feet, stepping fully into view—gloriously naked.
My breath hitched, heat pooling between my thighs. My gaze was helplessly drawn downward—to the thick, rigid length of him standing proud between his legs, his cock hard, heavy, and ready.
A delicious ache pulsed inside me.
He stalked forward, every movement unhurried, controlled. His gaze—dark, hooded, hungry—locked onto mine through the mirror.
I licked my lips, desire spiraling through me, molten and demanding. God, I was already soaked. I set down the silver brush, pressing my palms to the vanity’s cool surface to ground myself.
Roman’s reflection shimmered in the gold-leaf-backed mirror as he came behind me, his warmth an intoxicating contrast to the cool air. His presence alone was enough to undo me.
His strong hands settled on my shoulders, kneading firmly and possessively. A shiver rolled through me at the sheer dominance of his touch.
His sea-blue eyes burned into mine in the mirror, scorching, intense.
I let my head fall against the wall of his abs, sighing as his fingers worked lazy circles over my skin. “That feels good.”
His voice was a low, wicked growl, rough with hunger. “I want you, Olivia. I want you all the time. At every waking moment, I ache to be inside you—to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”
His lips grazed my ear, his breath sending liquid fire through my veins. “Even when we were apart, you haunted me. Now that I have you, I need you even more. I need you screaming beneath me, breaking for me.”
A moan escaped me, my body arching instinctively, my pulse hammering.
“Roman…” I rolled my head from side to side, feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against the back of my neck.
He groaned. “Mmm, amore… your hair against my cock is making me want to come already.”
He pulled back, leaving me aching, wanting. But when I turned, my breath caught—his thick, pulsing length was right in front of my lips.
I wet my lips, my mouth watering at the sight of him.
“Olivia,” he rasped, his voice fraying with restraint.
His cock twitched, thick, swollen, waiting.
I reached out, wrapping my fingers around his heavy shaft, marveling at the heat, the power. My thumb circled the leaking tip, collecting the bead of arousal before bringing it to my lips.
His breath stuttered. His fingers curled in my hair.
I torturously savored his salty taste, and I flicked my tongue over the sensitive head.
“Fuck,” Roman groaned, his grip tightening as his hips twitched toward me. “God, Olivia…”
I opened my mouth, teasing him with feather-light licks before finally wrapping my lips around him.
His groan was guttural, primal. His head tipped back, his abs flexing as he fought for control.
Encouraged, I took him deeper, my tongue swirling, my mouth stretching around his thick length.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His voice was ragged, his hands firm but gentle as they stroked my scalp.
His cock pulsed against my tongue, thick, hot, and demanding, and I reveled in the power I had over him. The way his muscles tensed, his breath hitched, and the way he trembled beneath my touch fueled my desire.
Tonight, there was no world outside this room. No danger. No fear.
Just this.
Just us.
I was soaked, throbbing, desperate for him, but I held my ground, keeping my mouth wrapped around him, dragging him in and out at an agonizingly slow pace.
Taking my time. Torturing him.
Roman let out a rough groan, his fingers tightening in my hair before he suddenly yanked himself away, gripping his thick shaft with a fist. “Too soon for that, amore mio.” His voice was hoarse, edged with raw need.
I licked my lips, savoring the taste of him, my thighs clenching at the sight of him trying to hold himself together.
As soon as he had his control back, he dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands threading through my hair as he pulled my lips to his.
The moment his mouth met mine, I was lost.
The taste of honeyed mead and his hot, intoxicating, overwhelming scent filled my senses as his tongue slid against mine, claiming me with every deep stroke.
A low moan rumbled from his throat, vibrating against my lips. “Mmm.”
“Mmm,” I echoed, already melting, already surrendering. My legs parted on instinct, my body begging for more, needing his touch, his weight, his heat.
His kiss was sinfully drugging, devastating. I could kiss him forever, drown in the way his lips moved against mine, in the way his tongue tangled with mine—languid, wicked, consuming.
But just as I leaned in, desperate for more, he pulled back, his lips hovering a fraction of an inch from mine.
I gasped, aching for the contact.
A devilish smirk curved his lips. Teasing.
Toying.
“Roman…” I whispered, my breath shuddering.
He chuckled, low and dark, brushing his nose against mine, keeping me in unbearable suspense.
The heat between us was suffocating.
His lips parted, and instead of kissing me, he exhaled, letting his warm breath ghost over my mouth, over my jaw, down the line of my throat.
I trembled.
Then, his mouth was at my ear, his voice a rough, desperate whisper. “I love you so goddamned much, Olivia.”
His words sparkled in dry timber, setting off a wildfire inside me.
“I love you too,” I gasped, clutching his shoulders, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me standing. “I never want to be away from you again.”
His lips skimmed over my cheeks, eyelids, and jaw—kisses so soft and reverent, each one sinking under my skin, branding me.
“Never.”
Then, his mouth crushed against mine.
This time, there was no holding back.
The kiss turned desperate, frantic, our tongues clashing, our bodies pressed tight, the heat between us molten.
His hands slipped beneath the silk of my dressing gown, trailing up my bare legs, igniting fire in their wake.
I gasped, opening wider, offering myself to him.
His fingertips traced torturous circles inside my knee, then glided higher, higher, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
So close. Too slow. Too much.