“Yeah.”
“Nothing happened?”
His eyes bore into mine. “Nothing. All I could think about was you. How wet your pussy got waiting for my cock to fill it. I didn’t want her. I don’t want any other woman. I only want you.”
The anger drains out of me. Roman’s right. He didn’t have to tell me this. I never would’ve known if he’d gone through with it.
“I’m not angry anymore,” I say, brushing my fingertips along his jaw. “I like it that you told me the truth.”
“I don’t lie to you,” he says, tipping my chin up. “And you don’t lie to me. Understand?”
“Understood.” I rise on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. “
Nala.” His voice roughens as he grabs my waist. “Moya pchyolka.It’s too late to back out.” His mouth brushes my ear. “That sweet little cunt you wanted to give me last night better be soaking and ready to greet my cock.”
“It is,” I whisper, lifting my leg so it slides against his hip. “It’s sopping wet, Roman. Waiting for you to do whatever you want to it.”
I rub my leg against him, watching him watch me. His eyes darken but he doesn’t stop me when I press my hand against the hardness in his pants.
“I want things from you,” I admit. “I just don’t know what they are. I have needs that I don’t know how to describe.”
“Tell me,” he orders. “I’ll know how to give you what you need.”
“That’s just it. I want to giveyouwhat you want. When I lie in bed at night, I don’t think about the basement anymore. I don’t think about my old life. I think about you.”
I don’t know what drives me to do this, but I fall to my knees before him, pressing my cheek to his thigh.
“Roman,” I whisper. “You love control and I want your control. I need it.” I swallow. “I’m not normal. Something’s wrong with me and I don’t want it fixed. I like this version of myself. This reality. I like who I am, and I like who I get to be when I’m with you.”
He groans in Russian, his fist tangling in my hair, forcing me to look up.
“Who are you with me?”
“A woman,” I answer. “Not a scared little girl. I’m a woman who belongs to a dangerous man who keeps me safe and has complete control of my heart and body.”
Roman stares down at me and I can see the way he’s holding himself, tense and rigid.
“Come here.”
He hauls me up and pins me back against his chest. One hand spreads over my stomach, the other slides up, resting against my throat. “Sometimes I look at you and think you can’t be real,” he grates. “My sweet little virgin. It’s like you were made for me—but sent to me in the worst way possible.”
His hand leaves from my throat to cup my breast, squeezing hard, while his arm holds me firm against him. I gasp, feeling how hard he is against me.
“Every part of you belongs to me, Nala.”
A moan escapes my throat as his hand drifts lower, stopping between my legs.
“Especially this.”
“Yes,” I breathe, nodding and reaching back to stroke him through his pants. He jerks beneath my hand, swelling harder.
Roman groans and clamps a fist around my wrist.
I freeze.
He releases me.
I step away, putting space between us. His body is rigid, jaw clenched, like he’s barely holding himself back. I meet his gaze, slowly pulling my shirt over my head. My bra follows, hitting the floor. I stand with my breasts exposed to him. The cool air tightens my nipples, but I’m on fire. He stares at them like he did that night, like he wants his mouth on them again. I push my jeans and panties down my legs.
