Page 51 of Fractured Loyalties
Roman watches me for a full three seconds before closing the door. He doesn’t come toward me at first. He just stays there, his arms folded and his eyes still fixed on me.
“What is all this?” I make a slight gesture to all the pictures lying behind me on the desk’s surface.
Roman raises an eyebrow. “A shrine, obviously.” He steps closer, his bare feet silent on the carpet. “What did you think you’d find in here, Ivy? Playboys and protein shakes? I’m not like most guys in this town.”
He moves with deliberation, and I don’t realize I’m trapped until he comes within a couple of feet of me. My mouth goes dry as I stare at him, trying to gauge just how fucked I am.
“How long?” I manage.
He cocks his head, his eyes narrowing. “Since before you knew my name.” A humorless smile cuts his mouth. “Since the day your mom showed up here.”
“That’s sick,” I say, but it sounds hollow. The part of me that should be running is locked up. All I feel is the charge in the air that makes my skin prickle.
Roman’s eyes trace my body. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
“Fuck you.”Because Idolike it. Too fucking much.
“You’re in my room, going through my things, in the middle of the night. Wearing my favorite pair of pajamas.” His gaze drops to my legs, bare except for the hem of my sleep shorts. “And the thing is, Ivy, you’re not mad. But I bet you’re wet.”
Roman closes the last bit of distance. His hands are cold as he takes the photo from my fingers and lays it back on the desk.
“Do you want to know why I did it?” he whispers, his breath hot against my cheek. I can’t move. “Do you want to know what it felt like, watching you sleep for the first time? Knowing you were right there, and I could have anything I wanted, and you’d never know?”
My heart threatens to punch through my chest. “You’re a psycho.”
He grins wolfishly. “Maybe… But you still want me, don’t you? You like the way I make you feel.”
I open my mouth to argue, but something washes over me—the same thing that led me here. I grab his jaw and pull his mouth to mine. He lets out a groan as he kisses me, rough and invasive, one hand at the base of my skull, and the other dragging up the back of my shirt to splay over my spine.
I bite his lip as hard as I can. He growls in response, his fingers tightening in my hair, while his other hand slides down to the waistband of my shorts. He lifts me onto the desk in one swift motion, scattering a bunch of the photos to the floor.
“You’re fucking crazy,” I breathe out, but I’m already wrapping my legs around his hips, my hands knotted in his hair.
“You broke into my room,” Roman says against my mouth, kissing me in between. “You want this as bad as I do.”
I shake my head, but he pushes my chin up, baring my throat for his teeth.
“Tell me you want it,” he says, his breath a demand.
“I shouldn’t,” I whisper.
“But you do.”
I nod, because who am I to argue anymore?
He yanks my shorts down and off, his fingers grazing my skin so hard it burns. I expect him to fumble with his own pants, but he doesn’t. He just pins me back with one hand and lines up with the other, his cock so hard it brushes my inner thigh, already leaking.
“I wanna hear you tell me you want this,” he rubs his head through my slit, causing my body to shiver. “Tell me, Little Lamb.”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, I want you.” I rock my hips toward him. “Please.”
He grunts with satisfaction and shoves into me in one single, vicious stroke.
“Oh my God, Roman,” I cry out, the sound desperate and whiny. He pumps into me, slowly at first, then punishing, the desk creaking under our rhythm. His hand moves from my hair to my throat, not choking, just holding. I can’t breathe for a second when he squeezes, but it only turns me on more.
All I can feel is Roman. His other hand bruises my hip, and his mouth is on my jaw.
“Good girl,” he growls. “You take me so well. So fucking well.”
