Chapter 23
23
KAIRA
I woke up with a start, my heart pounding and my skin tingling. My cheeks flushed as the remnants of my dream lingered in my mind—Roman’s hands on me, his mouth tracing a line down my neck, his voice low and demanding in my ear.
God, get a grip, Kaira.
I let out a shaky laugh and glanced around the dimly lit library. The soft glow of the fireplace was the only light. There was a soft blanket draped over me, one I hadn’t grabbed myself. My lips curved into a small smile. Roman .
I stretched, the dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness. It had been one hell of a ride. The erotic dream had been a combination of reality and straight fantasy. Elements of the pool situation mingled with the book I had been reading and my own very vivid imagination.
My body was still tingling. Taking a deep breath, I lifted the blanket off and rose from the plush chair. The floor was cold under my bare feet. I quickly slipped them into my discarded shoes.
My relationship—or whatever it was—with Roman had turned into something I couldn’t quite classify. Was it just a ploy for the public? Or was there something more, something that could be expanded upon?
I stretched, trying to work the kink out of my neck. I wondered how long I had been asleep. And why hadn’t Roman woken me up?
I couldn’t decide if it was really sweet or callous. Then I looked down at the blanket. I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was a kind gesture.
I spotted my phone on the table along with the book I had been reading. I checked the time, knowing it had to be late.
It wasn’t just late, it was the middle of the night. I couldn’t believe I had slept so hard. I chalked it up to the craziness of the last few days. The exhaustion had finally caught up with me.
I found the remote for the fireplace and turned it off. Then I laughed quietly to myself. “Like he’s going to be worried about the electric bill.”
But still, I couldn’t leave it on. Just because he could pay the electric bill, it didn’t mean I needed to just blow it. I picked up the blanket. I wasn’t sure where it belonged and decided to take it with me. I would ask Marilyn where it belonged in the morning.
The house was eerily quiet when I stepped out of the library. The staff that lived on the premises stayed in a group of rooms downstairs. It was a little antiquated, but it wasn’t like they were living in squalor.
I wandered down the hallway. It was the kind of silence that amplified every tiny little sound. I could hear a soft humming noise. It could be the refrigerator or any one of the many gadgets in the kitchen. I made my way up the grand staircase, running my fingers along the polished banister, and stifled a yawn.
As I reached the landing, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a door at the top of the stairs opened abruptly. Roman stepped out, pulling the doors closed behind him with a soft click of the lock.
He froze when he saw me, his expression unreadable in the low light.
“Did I wake you?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, like velvet brushing over my senses. It stirred up memories of the dream. I visibly shuddered but it had nothing to do with the chill in the air.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just woke up on my own. I’m on my way to bed.”
His gaze flicked to the blanket still draped over my arm. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Thanks for this,” I said, holding it up slightly. “And for letting me sleep.”
He nodded. “You looked comfortable. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I don’t even know when I passed out.” I laughed softly. “Obviously, the book wasn’t that good.”
“It was probably around eleven,” he said.
“Did you enjoy your book?” I asked.
“I haven’t decided yet. It’s one of those that makes you think, and I’m not sure if I’m in the mood to think that hard.”
He paused for a moment and scrutinized my face. It was like he was trying to read something in my expression, or perhaps sensing the remnants of my dream that lingered around me.
God, what if I had the dream when he was still in the library? What if I moaned his name?
I could feel my cheeks burning.
“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer. The space between us seemed charged with an unspoken tension. It was just like the moment before he kissed me in the pool.
I forced myself to settle down. There was no way he knew about the dream.
I glanced at the door he’d just locked. “What were you doing in there? It’s three in the morning.”
His eyes darkened, a shadow passing over his features. “Work,” he said curtly. It was clear from his tone that the subject was closed.
I didn’t press further. It wasn’t my business, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“Heading to bed?” he asked, his voice gentler now.
“Yeah,” I said, brushing a stray hair from my face. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what my hair looked like. And I probably had a crease mark on my face from where I was lying against the armrest.
“I’ll walk you,” he offered.
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. It wasn’t like I had a long way to go, but it was a nice gesture. I wasn’t going to reject any kind gesture he offered. They were very few and far between. I wanted to encourage more of them.
He fell into step beside me. I could smell his body wash or shampoo. It had a fresh scent to it. It was very crisp and masculine, almost like he had just stepped in from a hike in the mountains.
The hallway seemed longer than I remembered. His presence made the space feel smaller, more intimate.
When we reached my room, he opened the door for me, holding it just wide enough for me to slip past. I murmured a quiet “thanks” as I walked through, but the moment I moved, my body brushed against his.
It was barely a touch—just my hip grazing across the front of him, but it was enough to feel the unmistakable hardness pressing against his sweats.
My breath hitched. I froze, turning to look up at him. His jaw was tight, his eyes burning with something dark and dangerous that sent a thrill down my spine. Again, it was that same look in his eyes I had seen that night in the pool.
“Kaira,” he said, his voice strained, like he was barely holding himself together.
The air between us crackled with tension, thick and electric. I knew I should step away, should say goodnight and shut the door, but I couldn’t make myself move. He was the one that had said it. We both wanted it. We were both craving sex. There was a running dialogue in the back of my mind going through all the pros and cons of sex with him.
“You should go to bed,” he said, his tone more a command than a suggestion. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”
I swallowed hard and knew I was staring down a big decision. It was the kind of decision that could change everything. Something told me there was no simple one-nighter when it came to Roman. I would be living under the same roof as him.
I shut down the voice in the back of my mind. “Regret is a problem for morning,” I said.
His control snapped. One moment, he was standing there, composed and restrained, and the next, his mouth was on mine, his hands tangling in my hair as he kissed me like he’d been holding back for years.
I gasped against his lips. He took advantage, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping against mine. Heat surged through me, pooling low in my belly as I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He backed me into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. I didn’t care about the rules, the contract, or the line we were so clearly crossing.
All I cared about was the way he made me feel—alive, wanted, and utterly consumed.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured against my lips, his voice hoarse and full of need.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered, pulling him closer.
His hands slid down to my waist, gripping me firmly as he kissed me again, slower this time, but no less intense. Every nerve ending in my body felt like it was on fire. I knew there was no going back from this.
Roman wasn’t just under my skin—he was in my veins, my heart, my soul. And for the first time, I didn’t want to fight it.
Not anymore.
He backed me against the wall. His large, oh-so-hard body pushed against me, pinning me with a delicious pressure that stole my breath away. Our lips separated for a mere moment as he looked down into my eyes, his gaze intense and searching.
“You sure?” he asked, his voice laced with both concern and desire. “I don’t know if I can stop a second time.”
In response, I reached up, putting my hand on the back of his head and pulling him back down to me. “Absolutely.”
That was all the confirmation he needed. His lips crashed against mine once again, hungry and urgent. As we kissed, his hands slid down my sides and slipped between my ass and the wall. He squeezed hard, jerking my pelvis against his erection.
I groaned at the contact, my body burning for more. I didn’t want to take it slow anymore. I wanted him now, hard and fast.
Too bad he had other ideas.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he looked down at me. He slid his hands up, cupping my breasts through the thin pajama top I was wearing. His thumbs grazed my nipples, causing them to pebble under the fabric.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered against my lips before capturing them once again.
His kisses were slow and sweet now as he continued to tease my nipples through the fabric of my shirt. My brain screamed at me to stop, but my body refused to listen.
He broke the kiss again and looked down at me before sliding his tongue along the sensitive skin between my ear and collarbone.
“Say you want this,” he whispered breathlessly against my skin. “Tell me you need this.”
“I need this,” I said, gasping as he nibbled on the tender spot under my ear. “I want you.”
His hand slid down between our bodies again, traveling between us until it found the hem of my shirt. With a quick movement, he lifted it over my head, tossing it aside before running his hands up my bare stomach and chest once more.
I gasped at the contact, arching into him as he trailed his fingers down toward the waistband of my pajama bottoms. Unlike in the pool when he touched me, there was no hesitation or restraint in his movements now.
His fingers slipped under the fabric, tracing over my mound through my panties. I bit my lip, his touch sending shockwaves through me. I could feel the dampness gathering between my legs as he teased me mercilessly.
“Roman,” I moaned, rocking into his hand.
He pulled back slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Tell me,” he said softly. “Tell me what you want.”
“Please,” I breathed. “I need you to fuck me.”
Without another word, he slid two fingers inside me, thrusting deep and hard, hitting that spot that made me gasp out loud. It felt so good. It was everything I had wanted and more. He kissed me again as he rubbed his thumb against my clit in time with his fingers.
Moans of pleasure escaped me as he brought me closer and closer to the edge. I knew I wouldn’t last long, not with his fingers inside me and his mouth on me.
When the first orgasm crashed over me, it was like nothing I had ever felt before. It took my breath away and left me shaking.
He pulled away from the kiss, getting on his knees before pulling down my bottoms and panties in one swift motion. He looked up at me, heat burning in his eyes.
Oh God. There was no way I would survive what I thought he was going to do.