It’s in complete control of me, and from the fast rise of his wide chest, he’s suffering the same way.
Evie pushes past him when she enters the house and jostles his body just enough that he rocks forward into me. His hand snaps out and wraps around my waist to stabilize himself, but all it does is draw me into his body. Hard, thick muscles are crushed against my chest as I lower my eyes and reach for his arm, digging my nails into his bicep.
The bunching of them beneath my touch and the solid body pressed along mine draws a small, almost silent moan from my chest. Heat blasts from beneath Roman’s shirt and wraps me in an enticing embrace. I swallow and drop my forehead against his pec, taking another deep breath.
A borderline painful sense of need bursts in my core. I stare down at the black leather belt around his waist and then past it to the thick bulge pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. My mouth dries out as I leak into my panties.
His fingers twitch against my waist before tightening. I don’t look up to see if Evie’s lingering, noticing everything. Even just the thought of losing this moment is enough to have panic taking the reins. I reach to my side and cover his hand with mine, anchoring it in place.
“Let me hear that noise again, Brielle,” he says tightly, a rough exhale following the rough demand.
I throb between my legs, so wet already. There’s heat everywhere. On my skin, beneath it, buried deep inside my body. My thin cardigan sticks to my arms, and the high waist of my jeans clings to me in the worst way. I’m boiling from the inside out, and the only thing that makes it bearable is feeling himtouch me. I turn my head against his chest and stare past his arm into the open doorway, not seeing Evie.
I bring Roman’s thick, heavy hand to my front, keeping it hidden between our bodies. The muscles in the back of it flex as he spreads his fingers, covering so much of my stomach. I close my eyes and keep my head turned. Guiding his hand up beneath the hem of my cropped top, I shiver, panting.
“Make me,” I whimper, finally tipping my head back.
The sight of his eyes feasting on me, so dark and hungry, does me in. There’s no stopping the needy sound that escapes me.
His hand moves on its own now. He clamps his teeth together and shoves it up and over my bra, covering my breast in one move. His grasp is possessive. Angry. Desperate.
I can hardly keep my eyes open as the pleasure races through me, making my knees rattle. There’s something here. Fuck, I knew there was. This entire time, I felt it. All he had to do was accept it?—
“Fuck,” he curses, his palm searing into my breast.
His tongue swipes across his bottom lip before he rips his hand off me and uses it to guide me backward a few steps, forcing my hands to fall. I blink, my weight settling back onto my own feet instead of against him. Frustration encourages me to push forward and reach for him, taking his hand again.
“Who are you trying to punish here?” I snap, pulling his hand up to my throat and digging his first two fingers into the skin beneath my jaw where I know my pulse is racing. “Your heartbeat feels the same. I know it does.”
He rolls his jaw and glares down at me with the same anger I feel. “Evie could have seen that, Brielle. Enough. Just . . .enough.”
“She’s twenty-one. You’re being purposefully obtuse if you think she’s not doing the same shit as us when you’re not around.”
“Go inside, Brielle.”
“Or what,Roman? You’re going to punish me? Because this right here is punishment enough.”
His eyes flash, and my stomach jumps with anticipation. “You’re trying to provoke me, but it’s not going to work.”
“It already is.”
He pushes into my space, bringing his mouth to the tip of my ear, grazing it with his teeth. I relax my hold on his fingers and drag my nails over the veins in the back of his hand as he holds it against my throat, keeping it in place.
“You have no fucking idea what you’re doing here, sweetheart. This isn’t a game, and the sooner you stop treating this like one you’re set on winning, the easier it will be for you.”
“If you’re afraid to lose, just say that. I’ll still give you a runner-up prize.”
His teeth close around the sensitive tip of my ear and dig in just enough to yank a gasp from my lungs. I wish I could see his eyes and taste his next words on my lips.
“Keep pushing,” he starts, his voice too soft for the way his grip is tightening just enough to remind me it’s his hand on my throat, “and I won’t be the one who loses.”
His words have only just slipped into my consciousness before he’s releasing me and slipping inside. I watch him go, unable to get myself to chase after him.
Not when I can still feel his hand on my throat.
And sure as hell not when I’m too tempted to beg him to come back and squeeze tighter.
18
