“S-stop,” I beg when it becomes too much. My bottom lip quivers as fresh tears spill down my cheeks.
Roman rises slowly over me, a daunting presence as he stares down with half-lidded eyes. His face glistens with my release, and both men untangle my limbs before Roman’s hand shoots out and grabs my cheeks. He drags me to him, all authority and stoic heartlessness. “Clean your mess, Rosalie.”
My eyes narrow on him, a silent war waging between us. “No.”
His soaked jaw twinges. “Don’t make me take you over my knee next. I’ll spank you and make them watch. Do you want them to see you like that? At my mercy with your ass red?”
My teeth grind. I want to fight him, but I also don’t want to be subjected to being bent over and embarrassed further. My cheeks are already on fire as I sit naked in front of them.
They’re going to fucking pay for this.
The manhandling is really starting to piss me off, too. An idea concocts in my head, and I reach for Roman’s face. I squeeze his cheeks the same way he and Kairo have been doing to me before running my tongue up his jaw. The heady taste of my release explodes over my taste buds, and I don’t break eye contact as I lap up every drop. When my tongue swipes over his lips, he snaps.
He grabs the nape of my neck, pulling me until our lips crash in a sudden, shocking kiss. My eyes widen as electricity zaps my spine, and my mouth nearly gapes. Roman takes the opening, slicking his tongue against mine as my arousal and his minty taste mix. It takes me a moment to register what we’re doing as my mind processes. Two options filter through the haze: either I kiss him back, or I turn away and end this.
I’m thinking of going with the latter until his hand softens at my nape, and he pulls me closer. It’s gentle and almost sweet in the invitation, and I find my reason dying a quick death as my eyes close, and my lips begin to move withhis.
I don’t know what it is that makes me melt against him. Maybe it’s the way he’s holding me close or the way his lips soften against mine, but my eyes flutter shut as I ride it out. My sticky thighs and what just happened are forgotten in an instant, and I’m voluntarily kissing him.
When we pull away, I’m breathless, and my head is spinning. I blink a few times, calling myself back to the present as Maddox quietly offers me my robe.
I snatch it from him and use a hand to push Roman away as I slide off the table. Tension-filled silence blankets the dining room, and when Roman speaks, it shatters the illusion.
“You still haven’t eaten—”
“Choke,” I mutter before tossing my robe on, fixing my hair, and walking out of the dining room with my head held high.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rosalie
That night, I hear the sharp sound of my balcony door. Again. I groan into my pillow, pulling the duvet over my head as I ignore Maddox. I spent the rest of the afternoon alone in my recording studio, working on lyrics and completely disregarding all three of my bodyguards.
I wanted peace, and sleep seemed like the most reasonable way to get it. I’ve been wrong before.
“Go away!” I shout into my pillow, my voice muffled by the plushness.
There’s another rattle, and I grumble as I drag myself out of my warm bed. Maddox is dressed the same, with his dark attire and neon mask, as he waits patiently for me to reach the door. His head rolls back slightly when he thinks I’m going to let him in, only for me to yank the curtains closed and slide back into my bed.
As I drift off to sleep, I don’t hear his receding footsteps. It’s silly to think he’s still out there, but somehow, I know he won’t leave me. Not tonight.
A sharp pain pierces my temple as I fix my morning smoothie. I lift my hand to my head, my brow creasing as I watch the liquid mix in the blender.
I checked my blood sugar this morning, but the reading was normal.
Maybe I’m getting a migraine?
The lights don’t seem to affect it, and I settle for taking some medicine to help with the ache. I’m going to need aclear head for tour rehearsals today, and this day already isn’t seeming too promising as it is.
I head to the dining room, only to stop in the entrance as I stare at the table. The events of yesterday make a blush paint over my chest as I turn on my heel and head in the opposite direction.
I can’t even look at my perfect, vintage table anymore without remembering that.
I sip on my smoothie distractedly as I walk towards the stairs and nearly bump into Kairo. His hands shoot out, catching my biceps before I can tumble, and a current shoots up my arms.
“Where’s the fire?” He smirks, the events of last night playing like a film behind his steel eyes.
I shake his hands off of me before side-stepping him. “I have rehearsals in an hour. Be ready.”
