Page 13 of Sweet Addiction
With her eyes locked on mine, she sets her beer down on the floor and pulls her hair out of the knot. I watch, fucking enthralled as her fingers run through it until it’s spilling around her shoulders. This gorgeous woman cracks her neck, then stretches her beautiful legs out in front of her, wiggling her toes. “Why are you here, Rome?”
“Realized this was inevitable,” I murmur, balancing on a tightrope of need. Drawn to her in a way that makes no fucking sense at all. But fuck if I care about sense right now.
Long black lashes kiss her cheeks as she closes her eyes and shakes her head the tiniest bit before opening them again. Her greenish-blue irises shine in the snowy moonlight trickling in. “What would we have done before...”—she pushes up to her feet and stretches her arms over her head, flashing a beautiful glimpse of soft curves and creamy skin—“if we were so inevitable?”
A million dollars wouldn’t be enough to force my eyes from her as she crosses the small distance between us, stopping in front of me. But I somehow manage to stay silent, giving her time. Waiting for her next move.
“You don’t do relationships, and neither do I, Beneventi,” she practically accuses, so fucking gorgeous it hurts.
I run my hand up the back of her leg, and my cock jumps as she bites down on that pouty bottom lip. “Do you always do what everyone expects?”
“I guess you could say I don’t like disappointing people, even if I seem to be pretty good at it.” Her words are whispered as she steps each foot on either side of my legs and lowers herself to my lap, a dimple popping deep in her right cheek. “But I’m also tired of denying myself something I want.”
I grip her hips in my hands, slowing her descent, needing to hear it from her lips. “And what do you want, Dillan?”
“Tonight?” She cups my face. “You.”
DILLAN
To all the men saying they want a woman to fix them a snack after sex... Sir, if she’s capable of walking after, you have not earned a goddamned snack.
—Dillan’s Secret Thoughts
Ilower myself onto Rome’s lap, and electricity and excitement course through my veins as I brush my lips over his, holding his face to mine. This is insane and impulsive and probably the biggest mistake of my life, but I just don’t care. “Think you can give me what I want, Rome?”
My words are a whisper against his hot skin, striking a match to the fire already humming between us. I have absolutely no idea where this confident woman has been hiding, but I kinda like her and hope she sticks around. I’m no shrinking violet, but this is a whole new level of boldness for me, and my blood thrums hot and heavy in my veins with excitement as anticipation builds.
Goosebumps dance down my spine as he moves one strong hand up my back and cradles my head gently, angling my face and taking control of our kiss.
Deepening it.
Demanding deliciously as I melt into him.
“Dillan...” The plea in his tone is soft and strong and utterly demanding, flooding my veins with a powerful hit of adrenaline.
My nipples peak and strain against the lace of my bra as all my synapses fire at once. My body chants,yes, please, while my brain short-circuits and forgets any reason to argue. And my subconscious reminds me thisissuch a bad idea. But the want in his voice is enough to make me ignore that little voice.
Like he can read my disorganized thoughts, Rome pulls back and leans his forehead against mine, his breath coming in ragged pants. “You gonna regret this tomorrow?”
I skim my hand along his stubbly jaw and arch my back, dragging the tips of my tight nipples against his chest—his rock-hard, incredibly broad chest. Grinding down against his hard cock in answer as a war wages in his eyes.
A war I’d normally run from, but not tonight. Tonight, I’m running into it.
Rome wraps his other hand around my hip, squeezing. “Words, Dillan. I need your words.” His lips skim my jaw. My neck. The hollow of my throat. “And I don’t want to fucking stop.”
He shifts his hips, and a quiet moan slips past my lips as those eyes, normally such a beautifully brilliant navy blue, turn to nearly fathomless pools waiting for my answer.
“Life is too short to live with regrets,” I gasp as our mouths collide.
“Fuck...” he hisses against my lips, and the kiss is infinitely better than any I’ve ever had. Hot and hard as his tongue pushes into my mouth. Demanding. Like he’s never wantedanythingoranyoneas much as he does me right now, and my God... it’s intoxicating.
Need and desperation battle with the carefully crafted control I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting and protecting.
Control that’s slipping . . . shattering to pieces . . . until there’s none left.
Until the only thing I can see or feel or imagine or beg for is this man’s hands on my body.
And it’s nearly unbelievable how good those hands feel.
