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Roman’s assault was merciless. I burned in cells, in inches, in degrees beneath his touch. When he pulled my hair back and pushed my face to the side, I let him because he drove harder than I ever thought possible.
“Fuck me,” I groaned into the soft silk sheets of his bed.
His cock pounded into me again.“Gladly.”
Sex with Roman wasn’t soft or nice or anything a woman should want. It was hard and intense, a battering, and I loved every second of it. He took without permission, without mercy. My legs wrapped around his waist, and he kept one hand fisted in my hair and the other around my neck. He squeezed lightly, but not so hard I struggled to breathe—and he didn’t slow down when my next orgasm started to build in my core.
He fucked me harder. And the next time I cried out, he slammed into my body and roared alongside me, riding out my pleasure and marking me with every thrust of his hips and plunge of his cock.
When the blinding heat started to fade from my vision, Roman slipped from inside me.
“Good girl,” he whispered before kissing the top of my head.
“Shut up.” I managed, panting, shallow breaths all I could pull in. I had to try and survive the best sex of my life.Fuck.
I almost fell asleep, until he dropped his hand down to my clit again with a cocksure smile. “I think you’re going to want to stay awake for this.”
“For what?” But my hips arched, and I gasped when he flicked the sensitive nub.
Roman kissed my lips, teasing me with his tongue, until I opened and let him in. “Just until you realize you belong to me now.”
“For the night.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Roman
Ibarely made it into the kitchen before the hounds descended like a pack of merciless wolves. The hounds, of course, being my nosy-as-fuck family.
“Get the fuck out of my way, Asher.” Shoving my little brother, I groaned. He wasn’t alone. “Mother,” I greeted her sincerely. “What are you doing up so early?”
Asher laughed and took a seat at the bar, picking up his cup of coffee.
“Roman Matthew Hawthorne.” Mom stood there, looking as put together as she would sauntering into a social event hosted by the Scorpio Society. A pristine pair of black slacks and a loose-fitting white blouse framed her tiny body. On her wrist was the titular Hawthorne crest, in the form of a gold and onyx bracelet.
Ah, fuck. She’s using my full name.
With a smile plastered on my face, I tried to hide the fact I knew something was up. “Yes, Mother.” My usual serenity, the tranquility of my home personality shined through—I gave them nothing.
“Did you think you could bring a woman home with you, and I wouldn’t know?” Her voice was every bit as regal as the woman herself. Every bit as elegant.
“I’m twenty-five, and the only reason I live here is because you refuse to let us leave the nest,” I pointed out as I grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge. Then, I shoved Asher out of the way again, almost laughing at the comically horrified expression on his face. I didn’t know why it was so funny, except that he was like a mini version of myself. At twenty-four, he was more like my twin than my little brother, but this was about seniority and his disrespect of it. The shove reminded him of the family hierarchy.
Mom sniffed behind me, and I shifted, only to notice her sweep a lock of silver hair out of her face. “You each have your own wing. I don’t see the need in splitting up. Not yet, at least.”
“One day,” Dad said as he walked into the room, “you’re going to have to let them go. They need to take their place within the Society.”
“I don’t need a place,” I told them both honestly for what had to be the hundredth time. Dad’s ice-blue eyes, so much like mine and my siblings, stared at me in disbelief. No one who was asked had ever refused a place in the Scorpio Society, particularly since I was already a standing member and had been for quite some time. “I’m serious.”
“You’re part of a legacy,” Mom said quietly, swiveling her gaze from me to Ash. “Youallare.” It wasn’t like we didn’t know our place, our standing, or the expectations that came with all of it.
“Thanks,” Ivy piped in from the doorway. “You had to start this shit first thing in the morning.” My little sister, the only one of us who had yet to start college, grabbed the orange juice out of my hand and hopped up on the counter. “Does anyone want to explain why there’s a gorgeous brunette trying to sneak out of the house right now?”
“Fuck,” I groaned. “I gotta get her before she gets lost. Or leaves.”
Ivy shrugged. “Leo’s keeping her company, trying to convince her to take a pair of my sandals so she doesn’t have to wear those boots.” She smiled at me with a pixie-like grin, the picture of innocence, even though we both knew she was the farthest thing from it.
“Is this the young woman you left Hades with last night, draped over your shoulder?” I should have known that Richard Hawthorne wouldn’t miss a spectacle, like me hauling a woman out over my shoulder. Dad ruled the underground fighting circuit with an iron fist. And one day, I’d take his throne for my own.
