Page 93 of Ruthless Reign

Lord only knew how long I was under there. My knees started to hurt, spit ran down my chin, and my mascara had long since dripped down my cheeks. But that was how he wanted me—messy and defiled and soaked in my debauchery. My lips were numb from the friction and my throat ached, but I didn’t let up. I kept his cock warm and played with him while he petted the back of my head and clenched his fingers around my braids, using my face like a sex toy.

That shouldn’t have turned me on so much, but I couldn’t help sliding one hand between my legs when he started gasping and moaning above the desk. I liked being his little wife, his little Caputi whore. It cleared my mind in a way nothing else could and made me feel connected to him.

After centuries under his desk, he finally pulled my head back and slid the chair out from under the desk, staring down at me with his pupils blown so wide, they were nearly black.

“You were enjoying yourself entirely too much for this to be an apology,” he said.

I grinned and wiped my chin with the back of my hand.

He crooked a finger, beckoning me upright, and I crawled out, using his knees as leverage to push to my feet. Roman quickly arranged me on the edge of the desk and gently nudged me so I sat on top of his paperwork, the crinkling under my body adding to the ambiance of my sincerest atonement.

“Lie down,” he said, his voice gruff and hoarse with his arousal. “Legs up.”

I did as he said, eyes widening when he grabbed something shiny from a desk drawer to his right. A knife. Shivers raced over my body when he slid the flat edge up the inside of my leg, teasing the blade along my flesh.

“You know,” he said as he ghosted his fingers over the other leg, grabbing my thigh to guide the toes of my heels to the arms of his chair. “You technically owe metwoapologies.”

“I’m not sorry for saving your life,” I replied, gasping when he hooked his index finger into the gusset of my underwear and tugged it away from my skin.

“You’re not?” He laughed out a dark, sick noise that should have scared me. It didn’t. It only made me more excited about what would happen next. “Such a brave little wife.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but he slid the knife under the fabric and yanked, slicing my delicate panties in two.

“Hey,” I said. “Stop doing that or I won’t have any left.”

“I’m sure you’ll find some way to replace them,” he snarled, staring up at me from between my legs. “Now, shut up, and let me enjoy my sweet apology.”

I moaned as he dove in, lapping at me like a starved man, like he could make up for all the lost time between us. He devoured me on his desk, on top of all the work he’d been doing for the last several hours. I arched into the contact, euphoria coating my veins as he sucked on my clit and drove his fingers inside me. He rubbed at the pleasure center inside, and I nearly fell apart.

I’d be a quick trigger tonight. It had been far too long since we last fucked, and now that I had him right where I wanted him, I wouldn’t be able to hold out. My legs shook, nerves mixing with adrenaline and rattling through me. His dark head bobbed as he licked and fingered me, and when he reached his other hand up to wrap around my throat, the dam inside me shattered.

My orgasm claimed me, hard and intense, and I clenched my eyes shut, my cunt tightening down on his fingers. Somethingreleased in my lower half, a great loosening that I’d only ever experienced once or twice. Roman rubbed my clit faster, working me through it, and when I finally came back to my body, he coasted his big palm over me as I panted and sobbed.

“There ya go,” he murmured. “Such a good queen, squirting for your king like that.”

“Fuck,” I said, squinting through the tears currently rolling down my cheeks. All of the pent-up emotions had been unceremoniously flooded out of my body. Grief, gratitude, shame, relief, all of it, all-consuming. When I glanced down at Roman, his shirt and jeans were soaked with my cum, and he grinned up at me, his chin drenched with evidence of how turned on he’d made me.

“That was so fucking hot,” he said. “Can you keep going?”

I nodded and reached for him, gripping his shirt to bring him closer. “Yes, sir. Please. I need you.”

“Such a greedy girl.” He shoved his jeans down to the ground and ripped his shirt over his head, shucking it somewhere to the right before gripping my hips and pulling me to the edge of the desk. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” I said without hesitation, knowing it to be more true now than it ever had been before. “Please. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“You’re goddamned right you do.” He lined himself up and surged inside. I melted into the sensation of being full, of being so complete with him like this. We were connected on more than a physical level, and I never could have predicted it would turn out this way. But I was so grateful that it did.

Roman fucked me on his desk until we both were a spoiled, sopping mess, and then he carried me down the hall to our bathroom, where he sat me in the tub and ran me a bath. When the water level got high enough, he climbed in behind me andlaid me back across his chest, running his hands over my arms and neck.

“Thank you for that,” he murmured, pressing tender kisses to the side of my head. “I needed the break.”

“You’re welcome,mi amore.” I hummed in contentment, so appreciative of the tender way he took care of me.

“But as far as apologies go, that barely counted.”

When I gasped and shifted to look at him, he sank his teeth into my shoulder, holding me firm. I’d known him less than a year, but I understood the playful look in his eyes. “What do you want instead?”

He grinned, and I knew I was screwed.

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