“Saranna,” he growled and I sat up a little straighter. I might like poking my cousin, might like fighting his power, but I also knew when not to cross the line. And it was evident by his tone, he was there.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“It’s okay. Where is Roman?”
“In his room, why?”
“He’s not picking up my calls.”
“Oh,” I said, standing up and walking over to his room, knocking then waiting before I opened the door, seeing him pace. “He’s pretty busy, Marcell. What did you need?”
“Well, he texted me and then ghosted me.”
“Oh, so, you’re scared of the Russian, are you?”
That stopped Roman who turned to look at me, a brow raised.
“It’s Marcell, Roman. He said he’s tried calling you back and you aren’t answering.”
“That’s because I’m trying to get some fucking information, what does he want?”
I rolled my eyes again and put the phone back up to my ear.
“What do you want, he’s asking.”
“You tell him-”
“Wait, nope, not doing this,” I said, cutting him off. I walked over to Roman and handed him my phone. “Marcell is calling me to talk to you; I’m not playing the messenger. If you told him something, you need to talk to him now.”
Roman took the phone, his eyes raking over every inch of exposed skin, and I could feel the goosebumps break out.
And try as I might, I could feel my nipples pebble under his gaze.
I swallowed hard, finding the strength to turn and walk out of the room, wishing there was a cold pool I could jump into after that look.
Instead, all I could do was go back to my room and lay on my bed, hoping the fan would do the trick.
Even a cold shower wasn’t going to take the edge off that I needed.
I turned on my side, looking at the nightstand next to me and released a sigh. I reached over, opened the drawer, and took out the vibrator.
I glanced at the doorway, seeing that Roman had closed the door after I left. With a slight shrug, I tossed my shorts and underwear, slowly moving the toy along my lips, teasing myself before dipping it in.
“Yes,” I whispered quietly, wishing that it was Roman who was playing with me, rather than myself. Wishing that it was his hand guiding the toy while his mouth claimed mine and his other hand was twisting my hard nipples.
I closed my eyes as I allowed my other hand to cup my tit over the bra, playing with the little nub.
Slowly, I moved the toy in, arching my hips to meet it, lost in the world that I was creating behind my closed eyelids.
“Roman,” I moaned, this time a little louder. “Like that.” I pushed the toy in even further, slowly dragging it out and over my clit. “Harder, please.”
It was as if I commanded myself, pushing it harder, and I nearly screamed, consumed by the fantasy I was weaving.
I felt the bed dip then felt his hand cover mine, pushing it now in faster.
My eyes flickered open and I stared at him, my breathing erratic, because this was the closest we had been like this.
“Harder, you said?”
