Page 188 of Maddening Fixation

I was completely bare before him—the man who claimed to hate me yet clearly desired me.

Romeo pulled back slightly, staring at me with burning intensity as he slowly removed his belt.

The metallic clink heightened my anticipation.

His trousers dropped, and he freed his hard, throbbing length.

One hand returned to my breast, caressing it possessively, while the other guided his cock to my entrance, teasing my soaked folds.

He leaned over me, one arm supporting my back, and pushed in slowly.

Even though it was my first time, the pain was minimal—just a brief discomfort that quickly dissolved into overwhelming fullness and pleasure as he stretched me.

He stayed buried deep for a moment, his head resting between my breasts, breathing heavily.

Then he took a nipple into his mouth again and began to thrust.

I grabbed his back, nails digging in as he fucked me harder.

“Romeo...” I moaned his name exactly as I had in countless forbidden fantasies.

Each deep stroke built the pleasure higher, pushing me toward the edge.

“Gosh... Romeo...” The more he gave, the more I craved.

The pressure inside me coiled tighter until I couldn’t hold back.

My legs tightened around his waist as he increased his pace.

We reached our peaks almost simultaneously.

He grunted savagely against my skin as I came hard, fingers digging into his back.

His hand locked around my waist in a bruising grip while he spilled deep inside me, the release more claim than surrender.

I had never imagined sex could feel this intense, this consuming—like being claimed and undone at the same time.

Sweaty and panting, I wrapped my arms around him, our bodies still slick and pressed together despite the cool air in the room.

He pulled away gently after a moment, tucking himself back into his trousers.

His eyes lingered on my breasts once more. During the heat of the moment, I had forgotten his hatred.

All that mattered was raw desire.

I had given my virginity to the man I had secretly loved for years—the same man who hated me with a passion that never softened.

And I still didn’t know if I would spend the rest of my life regretting this moment.

Romeo adjusted his clothes with calm, practiced movements.

“Get dressed,” he said, voice still rough but already sealed behind that familiar wall of distance. “You have two hours to be home.”

There was no tenderness. No acknowledgment of what we had shared.

Nothing.

He turned and walked away, leaving me sprawled on the dining table, heart still racing, body still trembling with aftershocks.