Page 68 of Dance of Defiance
“Hands…” I growl.
He nods, taking a shaky breath before slipping his hands to the small of his back, right above his delectable ass.
Without preamble, I take the belt, loop it around his crossed wrists, then pull it tight.
And the motherfuckerwhimpers.
He doesn't gasp, or grunt, or shift uncomfortably as he fights it.
He goddamnwhimpers.
A deviously dark smile creeps over my mouth as I lean into him, relishing the way he shivers when he feels me press to his back, and the way his breath hitches again when my mouth moves to hover near his ear.
“You like to give up control,” I growl into his ear.
Roman stiffens, his breath turning choked and haggard. “N-no, I don’t.”
“Allow me to introduce you to four seconds ago, when youmoanedwhen I pinned your arms and took away your control.”
His back muscles flex. “I—I mean… I don’tnormally…I don’t?—”
I grab the end of the belt and tug, tightening it even more around his wrists.
And sweet baby Jesus, the manmoansagain—this needy, achy,sexysound that immediately has my cock hard as fucking steel and throbbing in my pants.
“You’re the one who's always in control, aren’t you,” I murmur into his ear. I give the belt another quick tug, and a whimper hums in his throat.
“Roman…?”
“Yes,” he breathes heavily, his broad chest rising and falling.
“You’re thetopin all of your fake relationships with girls, aren’t you?”
He swallows, half turning his head to glance at me.
“Aren’t all guys tops?”
Oh, you sweet summer child.
“Not always. But, in hetero relationships…yeah, usually.”
I tug again, relishing the sound that tumbles from his quivering mouth.
“When you’re with a girl,” I growl into his ear. “Are you the dominant one?”
He nods quickly. “Yes,” he breathes shakily.
“Do you enjoy it?”
Roman sucks on his lip again. “I…don’t know? Yes?”
“So convincing,” I snicker.
I yank his belt again, dragging anotherultra-satisfying moan from his throat.
“I think you crave a little dominance.” I chuckle darkly as I lean over and drag my tongue up the side of his neck before nipping at his earlobe. “Sucha bottom.”
Roman’s brow furrows deeply. He turns, his arms still bound behind his back, his eyes wide as they stare into mine with the lights and the music still pounding around us. His throat bobs before he opens his mouth.
