It takes everything inside me not to rip the comforter from the bed and throw it over myself, as the heat in Roman’s eyes burns brighter.
The muscle in his jaw ticks while his eyes travel down my exposed skin. Knuckles turning an ashy shade of white as the blood draws away from his clenched fist to fill the member growing in his jeans, his leg shaking uncontrollably in an attempt to honor my request to remain seated.
With another bated breath, I lean back, resting my spine along the plush pillows as my head connects with the cold headboard.
Roman’s eyes travel back up my body, lingering on the quivering swells of my breasts before meeting my gaze once again.
Neither of us speaks as my hands leave the spot beside me to roll over my thighs, sitting in the break between my slightly parted knees.
The below forty temperature rises to dangerous levels as I drag my fingers up, lying on the thin fabric above my throbbing bundle of nerves.
Our breaths hitch in unison as I slip my finger under the band of my panties and touch my dripping core; his in excitement, mine in panic.
I want to stop rubbing my center as the heavy feeling of shame washes over me, drowning my vision in tears, but I don’t. So instead, I continue because this excites him and all I want to do is make Roman happy.
“Can I come over there?” Roman growls, barely containing the furious hunger consuming his every fiber.
I nod my head, trying to calm the anxiety that devours my mind in the few seconds it takes for him to reach his side of the bed.
The mattress dips under his weight as he works his way next to me. His blown pupils overpower the hazel pigment of his eyes, shading them with nothing but blackness.
For a moment, it isn’t Roman in front of me. It’s dad and Liam.
It’s McLaren and Fallon and Jimmy…
But only a split second later, the vision of them fades, and I’m once again in the presence of Roman, who is a hair’s inch away from my dewy face.
I don’t know when it happened, but Roman’s shirt lies in a heap at the end of the bed, his dozens of tattoos on display for me to see, but it’s only one that I focus on. The wings on his chest giving me that little bit of strength to hold on to.
“Can I…?” Roman asks with a bit of hesitancy in his question, eyes uncertain as he stares between me and my rotating finger.
My center weeps with arousal at the thought of his digits pleasuring me instead of my own, but the warning bells that were ringing softly in my mind turn into bellowing sirens, advising that this is a bad idea.
But for once, I don’t want to think.
I just want to feel.
“Yes.”
Slowly, I remove my damp finger from my body and lie in trepidation as he runs his knuckle leisurely up from my ankle to the tender skin between my thighs.
I can sense his eagerness in the way his breathing increases the closer he gets to my core, but he takes his time, exploring every inch of my legs before touching the seam of my bikini-cut underwear.
The quick inhale of my breath draws in his attention.
Instead of halting his movements, Roman leans in, a soft, boyish smile gracing his lips before capturing my lips between his teeth.
Pushing myself forward, I return his kiss, savoring the taste of his minty breath while he works my center into a needy frenzy.
He maneuvers our bodies so skillfully, barely breaking our connection as I somehow end up lying on the bed beneath him. And he doesn’t press himself into me, leaving enough room between us so I can slip out easily if I need to.
My skin sizzles as he presses his lips tenderly against the underside of my jaw. The moans slipping through my mouth when I feel his tongue dip into the crevice of my collarbone drown out my brain's shouts of caution. The agonizing pleasure of his calloused finger rubbing against my throbbing clit draws my eyes closed.
I forgot for a moment what the darkness brings, and now the only thing I feel between my legs are the rough, brutal pads of my father's fingers, and just like that, horror works its way back up my spine, reclaiming its residence in my mind.
For a second, when I open my eyes, I’m back in that forest, lying on the cold, dirt ground with twigs and rocks digging into my back as men abuse my body. Only this time, my brain fuses the memory with the present, and it isn’t my father or brother or anyone else using me.
It's Roman.
