♫ Medieval Warefare - Grimes ♫
It all happened so fast, I didn't have time to process what was happening, much less react.
Roman's little hussies, however, were very much reacting behind us. They weren’t happy, and he didn't seem to give a single fuck.
"But Rome, what about—”
Slam!
The harsh sound echoed through the office, rattling the walls and likely carrying through to the adjacent rooms. The lock seemed to echo, too, as he clicked it in place to keep them out.
A quick swivel and we were off despite their angered banging on the door.
Each step forward came with a grunt, his clasp on my arm a forceful vise. He didn't look back at me or speak a word either, just stalked further into the room with determination coloring his aura.
A baffled protest was building on my tongue when suddenly, my back hit the black felt of the custom pool table.
And I mean hit the felt.
Roman deposited me on it like he planned to eat me alive.
He wedged his way almost effortlessly between my legs, and in the time I merely gasped, he'd already thrown my arms above my head and locked my wrists in his grip.
I was trapped beneath this man once again with nowhere to go.
Still no words were exchanged.
He looked me over once, just once, stare lingering on my eyes for a second longer, and then the domino effect went off like a bomb.
Lips collided.
Teeth crashed.
It was frantic, intense.
Unexpected.
Explosive.
I was scorching under his touch, reeling at the feel of his mouth on me again, and he was a ball of pent-up desperation, running a million miles per hour. He moved so fast, I literally couldn't keep up, panting wildly as he tore his lips away from my mouth and started down the column of my neck.
Kissing.
Licking.
Biting.
It was heaven and hell, so right and yet so fucking wrong. I knew I shouldn't be doing this with him, but I couldn't stop either.
The taste of bourbon on his lips was addicting.
He was addicting.
And I wanted more.
So much more.
Throwing all caution to the wind just to have it, even if for but a moment.
My body fell lax in desperation of finding a rhythm. Pliant beneath him, I let him explore, let him consume me, let him lead.
Only idly—and momentarily—did I realize alarm bells would normally have been blaring by now.
But I wasn’t remotely afraid.
If anything, the acute tempo of my breathing stemmed purely from carnal desire as he kissed me senseless.
He wasn’t far behind either.
His chest heaved with such ferocity, the air around us quivered.
It reverberated through me, lanced right through my being until I was trembling.
Aching.
Zoning out from everything but right here, right now.
“Tell me why you ran,” Roman hissed as he came up for air. He released me, all to grip me at the hips with both hands and push me further down on him.
My heat throbbed as his erection probed me, teasing me through all the layers separating us.
The veil of lust so was thick, whatever he’d asked had gone right over my head. “What?”
Draping himself over me, he met my stare. “Tell me. Why you ran from me. When I put my lips on you.”
His breath was hot on my skin, drenched in bourbon. And his eyes, they swam in it, too, unfocused and reflective.
He was so pissed I honestly wondered how he was still standing up right.
The thought instantly sobered me, reminding me he’d been outside those doors just five minutes ago, balls deep in two women.
“It doesn’t matter.” I tried pushing him off me. “We have to stop, though.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I croaked incredulously. “For starters, you’re drunk—way past the limit. And did you happen to forget you were just out there in the hallway, getting your cock sucked by one female, while you played with an entirely different cunt?”
Roman fell silent.
He pulled back to full height and watched me beneath curious brows, taking me in spread out before him on the pool table. His gaze was so utterly penetrating, I could feel it searing through me like a laser.
Down my neck, over my breasts, along my stomach...
When he reached the barely contained space between my thighs, I swallowed down the whimper caught in my throat and snapped my legs closed, feeling unbearably vulnerable under his scrutiny.
The growl that thundered in his chest was feral. My reaction to his perusal obviously wasn’t to his liking.
Fist clenching the very middle of my tank top, he yanked me up toward him in a flash, my legs naturally spreading to accommodate his hips.
“They’re distractions,” he grated into my ear, the tip of his nose buried in my hair.
“From what?”
“From you and everything you stand for.”
“Which would be?” I asked on a shaky breath, my hands subconsciously gripping his tee, too.
“Everything I shouldn’t want.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
His words were agonizing.
They’re not what I wanted to hear, what I could bear to hear.
I’d fallen weak enough to him already, had submitted in ways every man in my life only wished I’d given up so freely.
I needed to be stronger. Self-preservation begged me so.
I couldn’t do this with him.
“That’s why we have to stop,” I whispered, trying and failing to push him away once more. “We can’t be doing this. You know we can’t.”
Solid as a rock, he gripped me tighter. “Then tell me. Tell me you don’t feel this and I’ll never put my hands on you again.”
One second.
Two.
Three.
What was I supposed to say?
When I didn’t respond, or rather, couldn’t respond, he pushed me away and looked me dead in the eye, breaths ragged, unsteady.
“Exactly—let that sink in. I know you feel it too, Lux. That’s why you ran, why you’re trying to fight it,” he snarled, waiting a beat or two before he continued. “So go on, run. Run as fast as you can, but we both know the bomb will detonate sooner or later. And when it does, when you finally find yourself beneath me, begging me to wreck havoc on your body, I’m going to remind you of this moment right here. I’m going to remind you that you thought you could run from the King.”