It might sound stupid. Maybe I’m the stupidest woman in the world. But when Roman pulls me in his arms and he kisses me… when all of this powerful, strong, and virile man’s attention is centered on me, I cave. I know what kind of man he is. I know what he’s done in his life. I’ve read page after page of all of the things that the DEA and FBI know Roman Anthes has done, but can’t get proof. So, maybe I am crazy. All I know is that I feel loved, cared for, and safer in Roman’s arms than I did standing near Paul today. Paul was the one who scared me and seemed out of control. Going with Roman and being with him felt… right. There’s no other way to put it.
Nothing about this case has turned out the way I thought it would in my head. Nothing I thought about Roman Anthes jives with the man I’m slowly falling in love with. I’m losing sight of my purpose. I’m supposed to be trying to save my brother. I’m supposed to be getting proof against Roman. I’m not sure I can do that now. I don’t think I want to do that now. And my brother, he hates me. He hates that I’ve kept stepping in and trying to save him. He hates that I became a cop. There’s so much bad blood between us, but I can’t sit by and let him die. If there’s a chance he’s out there and I can save him, I have to do it.
When the limo comes to a stop, I can’t make myself leave Roman’s lap. It doesn’t matter anyway because he holds me tighter and carries me from the limo. We don’t talk in the elevator either. I reach up and link my hands behind his neck and rest in his hold. It’s been a day and I’m emotionally spent. I don’t think I can take any more tonight. I will think about everything tomorrow. I will try my best to clear my head and plan then. For tonight, I’m going to get lost in Roman.
He carries me straight into our bedroom, placing me gently on the bed. He crouches down in front of me, pulling me around so my feet are on the ground and slides my shoes off. Once he’s done with that, he cups my neck and strokes his thumb across my cheek, a move so familiar that I’ve come to crave it, producing a feeling that I feel down in my soul. “I’ll be back, pet,” he tells me, and I have to smile. I still hate that damn nickname, but when he says it with that smile, I want him to say it again and again. This magic he works on me defies explanation.
He disappears into the bathroom and I flop back on the bed and breathe for the first time since Roman saw me talking to Paul. I have this urge to tell Roman everything. How would he react? It would feel good to come clean. I think what Roman and I have is real. He’d understand.
Roman comes back in before I completely convince myself. I need to think about it. What I’m contemplating has a lot of repercussions, least of all compromising my future as a cop and, ultimately, detective. I thought that was what I wanted, but now I’m not so sure.
“Stand up, pet.”
I look up to see Roman reaching for me. My hand goes in his and he pulls me from the bed. He turns me so my back is to him. The sound of the zipper on my dress sliding down is the only noise in the room. It seems unnaturally loud. His hands encircle my neck from behind. My pulse automatically jumps and a tight ball of desire curls in my stomach. He brushes his hands down my shoulders on each side, snagging my dress as he goes. The dress slides down my arms and cool air hits my chest as it falls to a puddle at my feet. I swallow because, as many times as I’ve been with Roman, this feels momentous. I don’t know what the shift is between us, but it’s there. He kisses the back of my neck at the base of my spine as his hands come around my sides to meet at my stomach. They fan out, following the line of my hips. His lips continue to leave a trail of kisses down the vertebrae on my back to the point that I know he’s on his knees behind me. The idea of Roman Anthes on his knees while worshipping my body runs a giddy thrill of pure joy through me. It settles in my heart. It cements there, taking up residence.
This is real, what Roman and I have. This can’t be all about sex. It feels too different.
When I feel his teeth bite into my hip, a moan of pleasure escapes my lips. I turn so I can look down at him. He’s captured my thong in his mouth and pulls it down from my body, his dark eyes watching me the entire time. My heart beats triple the speed in my chest and every feminine part of my body clenches, preparing for an explosion. This man is lethal. He unhooks my garter, slowly rolling my stocking down one leg. I brace myself on the bed as he lifts my foot and removes it before starting on my other one. Each touch, each fleeting kiss grabs hold of me, refusing to let me go.
By the time he’s done, I’m completely naked and facing the bed, which seems to be his plan because he stands up behind me. I feel his hot breath graze across my skin. His hands hold my upper arms against my body and he places a kiss on my shoulder, his tongue tracing my collarbone. When he reaches my neck, I automatically tilt it to the right, giving him better access. His tongue paints a path from my shoulder to my ear and back down. Then I feel his teeth bite gently into my neck, capturing the vein that is throbbing crazily, betraying my excitement. He sucks that into his mouth while his teeth knead the skin and my knees go weak.
“Stretch out over the bed, Ana,” he orders.
His voice causes tremors of excitement to run through my body. I do as he asks, trying to control my breathing. He walks around to the other side of the bed and I look up at the man who is slowly owning my soul. He’s holding his tie in his hand. He has this look on his face that if I wasn’t already on fire for him, I would be with just that look. I reach my hands out to him, expecting him to tie them again, even wanting it. I love the feeling I get when I am completely at his mercy.
“No, pet. This evening’s lesson is all about feeding your senses,” he tells me.
He takes the tie and secures it around my eyes, tying it. I’m immediately enclosed in darkness. The silk material glides against my closed eyelids and I breathe heavily, wondering just what comes next.
I go a few minutes without Roman’s touch. For a bit, it feels like he left the room. The heady energy that is uniquely Roman is gone. Then I hear his footsteps. It sounds like he is pacing around the three sides of the bed, and I can almost feel his gaze on me. With each minute that passes like this, my anticipation wars with my nerves. I start to smell the faint scent of cherry in the air. After a minute or two, it gets stronger.
“Roman?” I finally question, using my elbows to support me and lifting my lower half off the bed, trying to search for him blindly.
“Which sense do you think is stronger, pet? Sight? But then you don’t have that one right now, do you?” he asks me. I jump because, from his voice, it appears he is standing right in front of me. “Maybe it’s hearing. Do my movements sound louder to you now that you can’t see, Ana?” he asks, his voice almost casual, but I can hear the undertone of need in it.
“Yes,” I whisper. That’s when I hear the crinkle of his slacks in front of me and feel his breath skate against my forehead as he places a soft kiss there.
“Maybe it’s taste,” he whispers, his voice wickedly soft.
His finger trails down my jawline, following my chin. I’m completely taken by surprise when I feel another hand hold my breast, pinching my nipple between his large fingers and pulling. When I cry out, his finger moves from my chin to my mouth, sliding inside. I close my lips around it, sucking his finger inside my mouth and sliding my tongue around it, imagining it is his cock.
He pulls on my nipple again and his lips are by my ear. “I’ll definitely give you something to taste soon, Ana,” he tells me, and when he takes his finger away, I bite my lip to keep from begging him to give it to me now.
I whimper in disappointment as I hear him stand up. He walks around the bed and I can hear him behind me. I try to decipher the noises he makes, but my breathing is too ragged, my heartbeat too loud.
“I think maybe touch could be the strongest sense to experience,” he says, his hand moving over my ass cheeks and up to my back.
I thrust my ass back towards him, begging without words for him to take me. Instead, I feel something slap against my ass. The sting is immediate as the cold leather connects, once, twice… three times. Burning heat zips through my skin and I cry out from the force of it. My wet pussy clenches internally as more juices rush forth. I’m on a razor’s edge and a breath away from climaxing. I feel something tickle across the heated skin in a zigzag type of movement. Feathers?
“Do you like that, pet?”
“Roman,” I gasp, the blood rushing through my ears.
Just like that, the feeling is gone. Then I feel the leather return, moving across my ass in much the same pattern, but it doesn’t stop. It moves lower and with purpose until it’s sliding against the lips of my pussy. When it pushes into the wet valley, I moan at the intrusion. It moves as if being guided, and the hard leather rubs over my clit—back and forth, ending in a small circle, and then repeating, over and over until my ass is pushing off of the bed and my pussy is trying hopelessly to latch onto the torture device so I can at least ride it.
“Oh, pet, you are soaked. I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before,” he says before walking away. I cry out over the loss of both him and whatever he used to spank me with. My body grinds against the mattress and my fingers bite into the comforter on the bed so tightly, I’m surprised it doesn’t rip. I’m terrified he will leave me like this and not finish me off. “Hold still, Ana,” he growls. I definitely hear desire heavy in his voice now. My body instantly stills as if he controls it by invisible wires. “Good girl,” he says, his hand brushing along my ass, which still feels heated. He rubs it gently and then moves up my lower back. “How about we try a different kind of touch this time, Ana?”
I’m confused, but before I can ask him anything, I feel hot liquid drip onto my back. It’s painful, but there’s a warmth that spreads through me. It brings out an elemental response in me that’s even more pleasurable than when he spanks me.
“Fuck…” I whisper as another drop hits and runs down my side.
“We’ll get to that soon too, Ana,” he whispers. “Very soon.”