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“Say my name, Elena.” He enunciates his words with a sharp thrust that hits a spot.
“Roman,” I moan.
I grasp his shoulder as I rock back with more force, meeting the drive of his hips as I take him in deeper, harder. I start to writhe against him, my hands and tighten as I start to come.
I cry out his name as my orgasm takes a life of its own. Earth-shattering is the right word for it. I’m glad no one’s in the house with us because the scream I let out is powerful. The sight of Roman above me, his dark gaze locked on mine in intense concentration, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
He claims my mouth as he comes, shuddering within me. Roman practically collapses onto the bed beside me, both of us breathing heavily. He rolls onto his side, eyes meeting mine.
“You’re pretty fucking amazing, trouble.”
I feel myself smile even as my eyelids grow heavy. Roman’s face swims in and out of my line of vision. I haven’t been sleeping well these past few days, and I fall asleep in a couple of seconds due to exhaustion. The last thing I remember is Roman pulling me into his arms and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
* * *
When I wakeup the next morning, his arms are still curled around me. I grin like a fool as I look up at his sleeping face. He is deliciously good-looking while asleep. I’ve never felt safer than I do in his arms and I never want to leave, but my heavy bladder calls to me, demanding release.
I try to slide out but his grip tightens around me instead.
“Roman,” I whisper, trying to wake him up.
His eyelids twitch but he doesn’t open his eyes. I tap his cheek.
“Would you get your ginormous arms off me? I need to pee.”
When his lips twitch, I narrow my eyes.
“Roman!”
He groans, shifting slightly and finally opening his eyes. His lips stretch into an easy grin as he looks at me.
“Hey.”
“Good morning. Let me out,” I say insistently.
He rolls his eyes before finally opening his arms and I slide out from beside him, getting to my feet and padding across the room toward the bathroom. When I look back at him, there’s a pleased smile on his face as he looks at my naked body. I shoot him a glare before heading into the bathroom.
Roman’s sitting up in the bed when I return, back against the headboard. I jump back into bed with a smile, landing in his lap. He lets out a soft groan and pulls me closer.
“Sleep well?” he asks, running his hands through my hair.
“Better than I have in a while.”
“Oh, yeah? Me too,” he whispers before crashing his lips to mine.
I’m not sure how long we kiss for, but when we break apart, both of us are gasping for air. I run my hand across the planes of his chest, landing on a particular tattoo that catches my eye. I trace the words written there.
“It’s in Latin, right?”
He nods.
“Oderimt dum metuant,” I read, likely botching the pronunciation. “What does it mean?”
“Let them hate as long as they fear,” he translates, leaning closer to bite the shell of my ear.
I giggle, pushing him back. “Those are some pretty nice words to live by, Don,” I say sarcastically. “But I don’t hate you. Nor do I fear you.”
“I’ve never wanted you to do either of those things, baby. And you never will.”
