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Chapter Thirteen
Ana
I’ve lost my mind. I know I have. That’s the only explanation. I knew coming here tonight was a risk and I was insane to even think about it, but I though
t I could control it—keep ahead of Roman and direct how tonight went. Maybe. Maybe I’m just lying to myself. Maybe I still am. Roman doesn’t know my real life. He has no idea who I am and the kind of person I am. My life is so swamped with responsibility, stress, and trying to take care of everyone. Roman is forbidden. Forbidden in ways that should scare the hell out of me and keep me from doing this. It doesn’t. He calls to me, and the lure of giving him complete control is too much to turn down. There’s this little voice inside that tells me I can keep up this image that Roman sees and use it to my advantage. I’ll enjoy a taste of the freedom he’s offering while getting behind his defenses. Getting closer to use him to find my brother sounds cold, but most of life is, and Roman Anthes is as coldhearted as they come. If he finds out, he’ll kill me, but he doesn’t have to find out; I just have to be careful.
All thought of bargaining or justifying goes out the window when he kisses me. His tongue pushes into my mouth and, just like before, it warms me instantly. I pull against his hold, wanting to touch him. His hold doesn’t budge. Complete control. I remind myself and I let go of everything and just feel. His kiss is slower this time, searching and conquering me. He pulls away slowly, standing up over me. My hands are free now, but for the life of me I can’t bring them down. I’m hypnotized by the look on his face.
He kicks his shoes off and somehow he manages to make that sexy. My body feels like it’s on fire. I’m struggling to force air out of my lungs and the exertion makes my body shudder with each ragged exhale. When his hands come to his belt and he begins undoing it, I forget to breathe altogether. I watch as the shiny black belt slides away from his pants. He gathers it in one hand before coming back on the bed overtop of me. He’s so much larger than me, and this time when he blankets me, it’s his chest over my face. I can’t resist placing kisses along the top of his abs and then further up the middle of his chest. His skin has a taste that goes straight to my head. Man and sex; if those were flavors, they’d be his. I finally remember I have arms again and can’t wait to touch him, to learn every contour of his body, to dig my nails into his back as he’s pounding me.
Before I can, he has my wrists again and he cinches them together in his belt. The action causes my heart to speed up, but it’s not from fear. Complete control, I hear his voice whisper in my mind. Need thrums through my blood quickly. I want this. How he knew what I craved is beyond me. It may be wrong, but I’m going to let go and gain enough memories to last me a lifetime. I pull against the belt, but it doesn’t budge. I don’t question him. I instinctively know this would be wrong. I don’t want to do anything that might stop him at this point.
I look over my head as best as I can to watch him secure the belt against the headboard. When he’s done, my hands are locked in place and there’s not a thing I can do to move them. Complete control, I hear again in my head, and along with arousal this time there is a trace of nerves. Reality tries to interfere as I watch him walk slowly and purposely to the foot of the bed and directly into my sight. He wants me to see him. He’s getting off on me being helpless. While I have to admit I am, I don’t know this man besides what I’ve read and our limited interaction. What if he goes too far? What was I thinking? I start to tell him I’ve changed my mind when he distracts me. His hand goes to the button of his slacks. My eyes zero in on the movement and it’s almost as if everything is in slow motion as he unfastens it. Then, I watch as even slower his hand moves the zipper down. As his pants fall to the floor, his cock springs out, definitely ready to play, and I nearly lose it.
“My God,” I whisper before I can stop myself. So much for playing it cool. Until this moment, I thought I could play cool with the best of them. It’s the only way I’ve survived in my line of work; I’ve perfected it down to a science. All signs of being cool are gone now, blown completely to smithereens, and I can do nothing but stare at the massive cock between his legs. It’s at least ten inches, maybe longer, but that’s not what scares me. It’s wide. I don’t think there’s any way possible one of my hands could encircle it.
Roman laughs. “See something you like, pet?”
I lick my lips because they are so parched it feels as if I’ve not had anything to drink in months. Ever since the dance earlier today, I’ve been on edge. No. Let’s call a spade a spade. I’m horny. I have never been horny in my life. It’s another reason I can be so calm and cool. My life is chaos and there’s no time for personal needs. The few men I’ve been with have been pleasant, even good, but nothing I missed when I crawled in bed by myself at night.
“You’ll split me apart,” I tell him because apparently being horny means your filters are gone and you blurt things out without thinking.
Roman, for his part, throws his head back in the first show of full-fledged laughter that I’ve seen. Like this, he’s sexier. His body is relaxed and he doesn’t seem as distant or unreachable. Of course, it could be because with each movement of his body, his cock dances against him, tempting me even further.
“Not hardly, pet. But for now, that doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t?” I ask, watching as a thin line of clear liquid runs from the dark head of his cock and along the shaft, painting one of the large veins that bulges against the skin. My tongue comes out, wanting to taste it, to bring it into my mouth and drink it.
“No, you’re not getting my cock right now.” Angels are probably crying in heaven. I can hear them and I join them with my protesting whimper. “Shh, pet. You will get it … in due time. When you’ve earned it. For now, I have a different game in mind.”
When I’ve earned it? Everything in me protests, but I shut it down. Complete control.
“What game?” I ask, unable to move my eyes from his cock. It’s hypnotizing me, the way it’s moving back and forth, taunting me with its size.
“Do you know what one of my favorite things is, Ana?”
“What?” I ask, wondering how he expects me to carry on a coherent conversation like this.
“Watching a woman completely lost in her orgasm. Watching every moment as it comes crashing down on her and seeing the exact moment that she loses touch with reality and finally lets go.”
Those words bring my eyes back to him. Perhaps I should have done that sooner, because he has something in his hand. It’s glittery and purple and has these thin straps attached to it.
“What is that?”
“Something that will make you feel really good, sweet, sweet Ana,” he says softly, putting a knee on the bed. I watch as he attaches one of the straps around my waist. His hand moves down to caress my pussy. “I love that you are bare and so beautiful. Such a delicate pink. I’m going to take really good care of this pussy, pet.” He forgot the word “wet” because I’m definitely that, and at his words, I just get wetter. There’s no time to be embarrassed because Roman’s finger slides between the lips and strokes against my swollen clit. My hips jerk off the bed, my hands pulling against the restraint without success.
“Yes, please,” I moan as he glides over it again. My body feels as if it is on fire. I don’t think it will take much to set me off. I jerk though when I feel the cold silicone slide against my pussy and push up against my clit, stretching it into place. “What’s that?”
“This is called a butterfly, sweet Ana. Have you ever played with one before?”
I try to concentrate on his words and on the excitement I felt earlier and stop the panic inside of me. “What?” I gasp, but he stills my protest with a gentle kiss against my stomach. It’s tender and sweet and completely different from what is going on between us.
He leaves the bed and I notice a chair behind where he was standing before. I was so engrossed in him, I didn’t notice it earlier. I do now because he sits in it, naked as the day he was born, though obviously there’s a lot more to him now. He seems like this is just another day for him. Maybe it is. Right now, he appears to not have a care in the world, as if he doesn’t have me tied to the bed—
All thoughts
end as I feel a soft vibration begin fluttering against my pussy. It’s soft, barely more than a ghost touch, a tease, just enough to get my attention. I swallow hard, my body heated and my breath short. The blood is thrumming through my veins and echoing so loud in my ears that I’m sure Roman can hear it. He shows no sign of it. He sits there in silence. In fact, the only sound in the room is my ragged breathing and the quiet hum of the vibrator. I can do nothing but watch him. Time has ceased to have meaning. I know it’s been awhile. Twenty minutes? Thirty? It could have been even more and nothing new happens. Except…
The small stimulation is starting to get to me. I can feel the changes in my body: the tightening in my breasts, the creamy wetness I can feel dripping from my pussy … it all slowly directs me to an edge I know I will eventually fall over. There’s nothing I can do to stop it—or to come. I would definitely take that choice. My hands pull against the bindings, but it doesn’t let me move. With each passing moment, my need increases. My body twists and turns, trying to find what it needs, but nothing I’m doing helps.
“Roman, please,” I whimper, needing more.
“Very good, pet. You just earned a reward.”
Reward? Why does he keep saying that?
My brain is hazy, the needs of my body and its demands taking over. I try to make sense out of what he is saying, but can’t. It becomes crystal clear however just a minute later. The vibrator shifts speeds and moves faster. Its pulsations rake through my body.
“Oh, God,” I whine. My body feels as if there’s a fire running through it, burning me from the inside out.
“No, pet. Roman, not God.”
His gravelly voice hits me and my insides flutter even more. He could own my soul with that voice. Not God? Maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s the Devil himself, a beautiful lost angel sent down to destroy my soul.
