Chapter 24
brIELLE
“You are,” I agree, spinning in the doorway to give the room my back. With a finger curling in the front of his shirt, I tug him further inside. “But you could be luckier.”
He kisses me hard before stroking my bottom lip with his tongue. I nip at it and stumble backward when he moves quicker, with a force that wasn’t there a moment ago. My blood heats to a boil. The door closes with a loud thud, and the lights remain off.
“How’s that?”
I swallow a needy noise, the backs of my knees hitting the mattress. “You could take my clothes off, for starters.”
“I could,” he whispers.
But he doesn’t.
In one fluid movement, he grips the backs of my thighs with his huge hands and lifts me clean off my feet.
I tumble to the edge of the bed, my back sinking into it as he wraps my legs around his waist and bends forward.
His chest flattens against mine before a hot mouth glides up the side of my neck, sucking softly, teasingly.
I moan and fist the side of his shirt, tipping my head back for him. “Yes . . . suck harder.”
He responds with a sharp, forceful pull of my skin between his teeth.
My eyes roll up until I’m staring at the ceiling, gripping the roots of his hair to keep him in place.
His body presses forward, the movement pushing my dress higher up my hips until I’m sure my panties are exposed.
I want to feel that now familiar bulge against where I’m so goddamn wet, so I shift at the waist, searching—
He bites my neck, yanking a whine from the depths of my chest. Two solid weights fall to my hips and press me into the mattress, keeping me anchored down.
“No.”
Shivers ripple down my arms as his stern tone settles between us. Him claiming control turns me on as much as it encourages me to push to see just how far he’ll go. To find where his boundaries are.
I repeat my motion regardless of the hands holding me down and turn my head to block my neck.
His gaze is dark when it finds mine, the utter damnation glowing from within them trying to crush my resolve.
It would be so easy to beg him to fuck me and give us both what we want, but I’m far too headstrong and stubborn for that.
After all these weeks, I’m going to make him work for it.
“No?” I repeat, slowly guiding my hand from his side to the hem of his shirt. His abs tense, becoming more prominent as I rake my nails against the skin above his waistband. He lowers his eyes, watching. “Are you sure?”
He’s so tense I fear he might snap in half. I dig my finger into the still-open front of his dress pants and follow the length of the zipper. His briefs are slick beneath my touch. The throb in my core intensifies, arousal spiking my temperature.
I dig my heels into the top of his ass and force him forward. He only moves an inch before regaining control and freezing, but I still feel the brush of his cock against my panties. It’s enough contact to steal my breath, my train of thought disappearing with it.
My hand is pulled from his pants before I have the chance to cling tighter. Roman’s fingers curl through mine and squeeze as he presses them into the mattress above my head. I gasp softly, watching him with what I know must be wild, desperate eyes. There’s no point in hiding how I’m feeling.
The moment he gets my clothes off, he’s going to learn either way.
“You push and push,” he grinds out. There’s anger in his tone, but I don’t think that’s how he’s feeling.
“I do.”
“You couldn’t just leave things the way they should have been left. Instead, you jumped every single hurdle I put up in front of you with those not-so-innocent smiles and angelic giggles. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
He lowers his head, the tips of our noses touching. When I shake my head, they rub, the movement somehow arousing.
“I can’t stop wanting you. I dream about this—of having you right here beneath me, screaming my name so loudly that everyone in a ten-block radius can hear, regardless of how dangerous I know that would be and what it might cost the both of us.
You’re in my fucking head, Brielle, and I need you out of it. Help me get you out.”
His hips move, rolling forward. I nod with false agreement, lips parted as I melt beneath the pleasure erupting in my core. The first hard press of his cock sends me somewhere else. A place where the only thing that matters is him repeating the motion.
I try and fail to hold his stare when he grinds down again, this time grunting my name in a tone that threatens to ruin me.
My breath saws in and out of me, uneven and ragged.
It doesn’t matter that my dress has crawled up to expose the rolls of skin above my panties or that I could be puncturing holes in the back of his hand from my nails.
“I’m not sorry,” I whimper, lifting up as he presses down. His hair is curling around my knuckles as I attempt to use it to pull his lips down. “I need this. You need it, too.”
His eyes flick between mine, pupils wide. “Need what, Brielle? Tell me.”
“To fuck me. You’re angry with me for pushing, but you could have put a stop to it. A real one. Don’t think for a second that I’m the only one responsible for this. Not when your cock is so hard for me I’m wondering if you’re going to come just like this.”
He blows a harsh breath across my mouth before kissing me.
My eyes fall shut instantly as my legs lock tighter around his middle.
The hand not claiming mine above my head falls to the minuscule gap between our bodies.
I’m oversensitive, my skin buzzing with its own electric field while he inches my dress up higher, forcing it past my stomach.
He doesn’t break away from my lips as he explores my thighs, dipping between them just long enough for a knuckle to bump my wet pussy before disappearing.
I’m on a hair trigger. One more touch, and I’ll blow. That’s not a reaction I expected to have, but should have after all this time. This is what I was waiting for and pushed so hard to experience.
“I want to take you apart and put you back together with my hands,” he declares gruffly across my swollen mouth. “I want to get this out of my system so I can go back to my regular life.”
Two fingers slip beneath my panties and sink right into my pussy.
I buck up, crying out in surprised bliss.
The stretch isn’t bad after the cab ride, leaving only pleasure.
I tug at his hand and take his half-buttoned shirt in my other, pulling hard enough that the collar tugs at his throat.
His groan floods my senses as he remains in place, not trying to free himself from the restriction to his airway.
Roman drives his fingers into me harder.
His jaw tightens as he hisses a breath and releases my hand, gripping my throat instead.
My heart pounds furiously in my chest as excitement makes the room glow around us.
I pull harder on his shirt, and his jaw slacks long enough for him to chuckle roughly, his grin feral.
Holy fuck.
I clench tight around his fingers as I move my hips, riding the intrusion as our crazed stares hold, neither of us ready to break this connection yet.
I’m already close. I’ve been close long before he made me come in the cab, but this?
This is nothing like what I expected from him, even when I let my mind wander to the possibility of us together.
I was right about the sexual chemistry, but even that confirmation can’t drag me from this focus.
“Show me everything,” he rasps, so quietly I nearly miss it over the sound of my own breathing.
My head moves on its own, frantically nodding. “Everything.”
Neither of us comments on his previous statement. He can say he only wants one night, but I know better.
It’s going to take far more than that to get where we crave to be.
His fingers curl and press impossible deeper, stroking the exact spot where I need him to.
My tongue grows trapped between my teeth as I swallow beneath his palm and drop his shirt in exchange for his throat, gripping it directly.
He growls, the vibrations shooting through my arms and into my chest. The picture he makes like this .
. . with his nostrils flaring, jaw tight, and eyes narrowed on me like he can’t decide whether to choke me out or make me come, is already too much.
But then adding how much he’s enjoying the feel of my hand wrapped around his throat?
I’m lost. Helplessly, beautifully lost in this man.
I push my head back into the bedding and stare at the ceiling, unable to hold myself up any longer.
Sinking into the mattress, I ride the waves of pleasure that grow higher, stronger.
There’s no stopping their crash or the climax that follows.
I lock my legs around him and jerk in pleasure, welcoming my release with eager hands.
“Fuck,” he spits, pulling his fingers free to bring them to his mouth. They disappear as he sucks them clean again and then grabs me again, lifting me off the bed. “You’re perfect.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on as we move. Breathless and trembling, I bury my face in his throat and inhale. The red mark from where his shirt had dug into his skin is warm beneath my lips when I kiss it, hoping to soothe the burn.
The muscles beneath my lips pull when he swallows. I moan, running my nose up to and over his jaw, feeling the stubble scratch my skin and hoping it leaves a mark, some sort of claim that I can keep with me for a while.
I’m drunk on the taste of him. On the smell and feel of him as he holds me like he’s terrified I’m going to disappear.
The butterflies in my stomach haven’t settled, even as I try to distract myself with the sexual need flooding my nervous system.
They remain in place, refusing to so much as hide for the remainder of the night.