My pigtails loosen as his fingers move into my hair, threading through the strands as if he owns them. He doesn’t need to ask; he can take anything he wants from me. I’m his. It’s the only thing I’m certain about in this life.
Roman’s eyes glaze over as if he’s mesmerized, but he licks his lips like a starved animal, never once moving his attention away from my mouth.
He’s looking at me as if I’m the only person in this world who matters.
Like I’m his everything.
Like he’s about to kiss me.
“Mickey.”
Chapter 11
ISABELLA
3YearsAgo
Roman: 19 years old – Isabella: 17 years old.
His lips crash into mine, cutting off my words as he drags me to him by his grip on my hair. The entire world lights up on contact. Every bulb grows brighter, every smell becomes stronger, and I can feel the kiss in my soul. The stars could fall, and I wouldn’t notice. The room could be set ablaze, and I would be helpless to his possession.
His lips move without waiting for me to catch up. Mickey pulls me beneath him, settling himself between my legs as he dominates every inch of me. Choosing where my legs are curled around him, we become a battle of tongue and teeth that I already know I will lose.
A low growl rattles through his throat as my back arches and my legs tighten around his waist, pulling his hips closer to mine. When he takes my bottom lip between his teeth like he’s marking his territory, I can’t help but whimper.
It isn’t just a kiss. Our lips aren’tjusttouching. He’s claiming me, body, mind, and soul, and there is nothing I can do to get away from it. Because I want him, too, more than anything else in the world.
Not want.
Need.
I need him more than I need air. If he leaves, I won’t survive. There’s nothing else in this world that could compare to him.
I’m his, and there’s a Roman-shaped hole in my heart that is perfectly made to fit him.
As he pushes his hard length against the part of me that aches for him the most, fireworks dance behind my vision. My body takes over at the sensation, and I grind my hips along him. A guttural moan makes it past our lips, and I try to chase that high again.
But then he stops.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away from me, and I whimper when his touch vanishes completely.
He leans to the side. One hand disappears beneath the covers to adjust himself. Then he throws his head back and laughs at the ceiling. Looking back down at me, he beams from ear to ear. “God, that was better than I ever imagined. You taste so damn good.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m going to survive another year,” he says, more to himself than to me.
“What?” I shift and try to make myself smaller.
That was amazing, but I don’t understand why he pulled away. Did I kiss him wrong? Was that bad? I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I can’t help feeling like I wasn’t enough, even though he is smiling at me like I’ve given him some gift.
He flops onto his back next to me and grabs me before I can escape any scrutiny. Tucking me into his side, he cages me in his arms. Should I be fighting him? Do I try kissing him again? I don’t understand what’s happening.
“I’m going to see you every day, and it’s going to kill me not to pounce on you.” Mickey pushes himself onto his back and raises himself on his elbows so he’s staring down at me with a grin. “On that note, no skirts, no shorts, no low-cut shirts, and—I never thought I’d agree with the teachers—no shoulders. For God’s sake, you better put away the shoulders. They’re too tempting. And those thin little tank top straps? So breakable,” he rambles, talking so fast I almost miss what he’s saying. I'd believe him if he told me that he was drunk or high.
If the term ‘on top of the world’ could be captured, it would be Mickey at this moment. He’s encapsulating pure joy. I’ve never seen him smile so brightly before. There isn’t a hint of maliciousness or mischief in his lopsided grin. If he started skipping around the room, I wouldn’t be surprised.
I wish I could feel what he’s feeling. My lips curl into a smile, but it’s forced, so nothing happens to the look in his eyes. He’shappy. Truly happy.
But he stopped. He pulled away from me.
His brows drop suddenly, frowning to himself. “Actually, cover the ankles, too. There isn’t an inch on you that doesn’t do it for me. I’ll control myself, don’t you worry. But if someone looks at you?” He whistles. “If you thought I was crazy before, you have no idea what you’ve just unlocked.” Moving again, onto his knees this time, he settles between my legs as if he’s done this thousands of times and belongs there. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that? For years, every single time I saw your pretty pink lips, I imagined what they would feel like between my teeth and whether they were as sweet as you look.”
