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I do so, rising slightly to the top. He grabs my ass and slowly maneuvers me onto his hard length. My eyes flutter shut as I take him in, inch by inch until I’m seated to the hilt. I’m so impossibly full. Roman doesn’t move for several seconds and neither do I. The only sounds that can be heard is our heavy breathing.
“Fuck, I-I never imagined it would feel like this,” Roman says softly.
My eyes meet his and I’m about to ask why he was even imagining anything at all when he shifts, changing the angle slightly.
“Come on, trouble,” he grins. “You asked to fuck me. Go ahead.”
I grin, lifting up and slamming down onto him. I break out into fresh sweat, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I slam down on him repeatedly. When I start to grow tired, Roman takes over, powering upward and jackhammering into me at a pace that has me seeing stars.
“Yeah, like that,” he breathes. “Take every fucking inch.”
Sensation stretches my skin taut and makes me lightheaded until the world dissolves into nothing more than a symphony of moans, groans and the slap of flesh against flesh. Time doesn’t exist for me anymore. I’m not sure how long he slams into me—minutes, hours, days, it all blurs together. Until Roman reaches forward and pinches my clit. Pleasure spikes.
“Come for me, Lena,” Roman says, voice velvety and smooth.
That’s all it takes for me to blast off. We’ve left the planet, ladies and gentlemen. If you look up at the sky, you’ll see me floating somewhere between Mars and Jupiter. I fall against his chest, my mouth open in a silent scream. Roman’s not too far behind. He comes with a loud groan and then we’re both shaky, mindless messes.
I’m notsure how much time passes. I feel Roman smooth some of my hair from my neck before pressing a kiss to the area.
“Good girl,” he praises.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. This is definitely one of those situations where you float down from a high and realize you’ve just done something completely terrible.Oh god, what have I done?
It seemed like a good idea in the moment but now that I’m thinking clearly, I want to die. I can barely look at Roman as I maneuver out of his lap. My shaky legs are absolutely no help, but I finally manage to climb over to the passenger side. I grab my dress and hurriedly throw it over my head, covering myself. Roman fixes his clothes as well and save for his tousled hair and the color on his cheekbones, he looks nothing like a man who just fucked me hard in his car.
I look away from him, resolutely staring outside the window and doing my best to stave off the blush heating my cheeks.
Roman seems to have the exact same idea as me because he doesn’t say a word as he starts the car and drives me the rest of the way home. As soon as we arrive in front of my house, I mumble a thank you and rush out, entering my house without a backwards glance. Thankfully, my dad’s already asleep in his room so I don’t have to deal with any questions about my whereabouts.
I simply make my way up to my bedroom and fall face forward onto my bed.
“Merda,” I groan.
* * *
I slurp downthe milkshake in front of me, my hands on both my cheeks. Flashes from last night play across my vision like clockwork. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. And I can’t get Roman out of my mind, either.
Come for me, Lena.
Take every fucking inch.
You want me to fuck you like a little slut?
The thought of what we did, of his dirty words, has me shifting uncomfortably, trying to stave off my arousal. When I look up, Kiara’s staring at me intently, a curious look on her face.
“What?” I mutter.
She tilts her head slightly to the side. “Something’s up with you. Tell me. Tell me now.”
“Nothing is up,” I state. “Everything’s perfectly fine.”
“Hmm. Your voice went up on that last syllable. You’re lying, Lena. Did something happen?” she asks, concern clear in her voice.
I shake my head. “Honestly, I’m fine. I’m just thinking about what happened at the party yesterday is all,” I say to divert her from the truth.
I’ll tell her what really happened eventually. But not today. Not when I can barely make any sense of it myself. I can’t count the number of times my gaze has strayed to my phone, itching to call Roman so we can talk about what happened. But I don’t want to be the one to call first.
He’s making me feel like he considers what happened nothing more than a mistaken hookup. The thought has my heart clenching. But there doesn’t seem to be any other option. Why else hasn’t he tried to reach out to me?
