Page 27 of Precious Legacy

He kicks off his slacks, letting them join the pool of clothes strewn across the floor. Crawling over me, he drops rough kisses along my collarbone, my chest, my nipples, until I’m crying out with desire.

His rock hard cock needs no introduction to my pussy. He lines up and slams into me with one hard thrust, stealing the air from my lungs. A rushed whimper escapes me, followed by Roman’s rumble of approval that coils around my spine. He pulls out, then drives back into me, his hands wrapping around my thighs to steady himself and thrust deeper.

Roman pounds me into the couch like his life depends on it, as if every slap of our flesh allows him to lose a bit of himself. The crease along his forehead has since disappeared, replaced with pure ecstasy that I could stare at for hours.

Reaching up, his tattooed hand circles my throat—not enough to cut my airways, but applying the right amount of pressure to intensify my incoming release. It’s no use in trying to ignore it, because Roman is fucking me so hard that his cock hits the perfect spot every time. In just a matter of seconds, I shatter for the second time, screaming his name.

Roman slows his rhythm down, still moving so I can ride out my orgasm. When my breaths settle into a less pathetic blend of choked exhales, I look up at him, blue eyes gazing back at me as he tucks his bottom lip beneath his teeth.

“What?” I frown as he leans down to capture my lips.

“I changed my mind,” he says, biting my bottom lip hard and making me whimper. “That’smy favorite sound.”

He picks me up before I have time to respond, wrapping my legs around his waist and moving us around my apartment. He fucks me on every surface possible, from the kitchen to the bathroom, until we’re nothing but grunts of exhausted desire, sighs of sated pleasure and raw flesh slapping.

We collapse on my bed, sweaty, breathless, and boneless. For a few minutes, no words are exchanged, which is just what I need to sort through my flurry of confusing thoughts. I should be hating Roman, not fucking him. But once again, my brain and heart are getting confused by one another.

“Why do you want to join the NYPD?” Roman asks after what feels like ten minutes have passed. He takes a drag from a joint I hadn’t realized he’d sparked up before passing it over to me.

I take a harsh toke, relishing the dryness coating my throat. I should really quit smoking while I can. The last thing I need is a drug test that pulls me from the academy. But I still have three weeks before I start, so there’s plenty of time to get it out of my system.

“You can doanythingelse. Literally, anything,” Roman chuckles, waving his hand around my bedroom.

“What? Like working for my brother?” I scoff. “No thanks.”

Roman slouches back against my headboard, the covers pooling around his lap. I lick my lips. I’m still sore from the four hour fuck session we’ve just had, but it’s hard to tamper down my desire for him when he literally looks like a god.

I take another drag of the joint to try and shake away the desperate need to be fucked into oblivion again. My pussy hasn’t gotten the message yet.

“You could work with me.”

“What?” I choke out, coughing and spluttering. I slap my chest, coaxing the remnants of the weed to dissipate.

“Come work with me,” he shrugs.

I laugh incredulously. “Roman! That’s the most idiotic thing you’ve said,ever!”

“Why not?” He frowns.

I hand back the joint and twist my body out of the covers. I only get halfway before Roman stops me, grabbing me by the waist and yanking me backwards until I’m beneath him. His firm chest presses against my hard nipples, a gasp slipping from my lips as I peer up at him. I could definitely get used to this view. The sex, too. But I know full well this could never be my version of normality.

His blue eyes darken, the question he asked still lingering between us.

“Even if I didn’t still hate you, I want nothing to do with that life,” I growl.

He drops his head into the crook of my neck, sliding his swollen lips over my sensitive skin. “But you’ll learn to love me.”

“Someone’s cocky,” I jest, slapping his chest with my palm.

He glances between us, where his cock rests heavy against my stomach. There’s no denying what he’s packing. The fact he’s good with it is only going to make it that much more difficult when I finally cut off whatever this is we’ve been doing.

“What were you doing here, anyway?” I ask, trailing my fingertips over the Genovese emblem tattooed on his left pec. Above it is a crown, the ink evidently newer than the emblem. “You seemed…”

“Pissed?” he answers for me with a smile that could break hearts.I should know.

I nod.

He rolls onto his back, bringing me into his chest like it’s the most normal thing for us to do.

---