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Chapter Three

Bella

Sizzling sensations build inside me with every stroke of Roman’s lips. His tongue slowly glides against mine in a passionate tangle, and an intense ache blooms in my core.

What am I doing?

I’m kissing someone I don’t know. I should push him away and run out of here. I have a good memory, and each hallway that leads to the side entrance is clear in my mind, but I can’t make myself move.

I’ve been drawn to this dark-haired stranger ever since I laid eyes on him.

When the old pervert suggested they bid on me, a twisted part of me wished that Roman would win the bid, and now that dark wish has been fulfilled. I don’t know why I can’t resist him. He’s good-looking, but he’s obviously stone-cold dangerous. His interaction with the old pervert reminded me of a wild panther stalking its prey. And instead of making me feel scared, it sent shivers of awareness down my spine.

His kiss is as potent as his essence—wild and intoxicating, pulling me deeper into his empowering presence until we are just two people getting lost in each other. It’s like we’re two lost souls finally connected. It’s undeniable and scary. His fingers sink into my hair, gripping it tight, and I find myself letting go and surrendering to the intense need growing inside me.

A low groan leaves my throat as his finger slowly slides down to my chest. Warmth races over my skin, and my core slicks up as heat spreads inside me. He lets go of my lips and gently nips at the corner of my mouth, eliciting a soft whimper from a deep and needy part of me. Then he slowly licks at the area, soothing it while oh-so-slowly grazing his thumb over my right nipple.

My core tightens in response, and my nipple hardens beneath his touch, tightening until it’s poking hard through my dress. He moves his thumb to the other nipple, lavishing the same attention on it until it’s begging to be released. His molten eyes slide to mine, and everything stops as I take in the raw need in them. This close, I can see that his eyes are smoky gray, a gray that has turned dark and liquid with want.

“You’re going to enjoy this,” he says, though it sounds more like a command.

Then his eyes soften.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise,” he vows.

My dad used to say the eyes are a window to the soul. I don’t know if he’s right, but the tender warmth in Roman’s gaze makes me believe every word he utters.

Then he leans down to softly lick at the sensitive flesh behind my right ear, and all my thoughts dissipate.

I tremble softly and gasp, arching into his wandering tongue, and at the same time I slide my arms around his neck until I’m gripping his lush dark brown hair for dear life. I slowly slide my legs against each other, trying to ease the throbbing ache growing at my center. Every flick of his tongue sends streaks of sensation to my core, heightening my need, until I’m gyrating in his arms and my ass is grinding over his hard shaft through his pants.

He rolls a hard nipple with his thumb and forefinger over my dress, sending a stab of ache to my slick sex. Then he slides his hands down to my thighs, slowly caressing them before pushing up the hem of the dress and sliding his fingers up my inner thighs. His touch causes me to moan and tremble in anticipation, while goose bumps dot my flesh. Warm hands glide to the juncture of my thighs just as he trails his lips back to my own with another moan of pleasure.

His fingers graze my wet lacy panties, and he groans into my mouth, pushing the fabric to the side. He breaks the kiss and growls against my lips, “You’re so wet and I fucking love it.”

I whimper softly at his words, his thick growl prompting fresh bouts of wetness to slick up my channel. “So fucking responsive,” he rasps, then gently slides his thumb over my swollen clit.

A loud moan leaves my lips as I quiver in response.

“Look at me,” he orders softly.

I slowly open my eyes. The pull between us is intense and riveting, drawing us deeper until our breaths mingle and I’m taking in his scent. It’s a blend of raw manliness, warm spice and amber—heady and alluring, spiking my desire. His thumb slowly strokes my clit, over and over, until my breath climbs and my grip tightens in his hair at the stabbing ache.

I can’t look away from him. Nothing else matters.

In this moment, I know that no matter what happens, our lives are intertwined.

The ache in my core grows with every stroke, and I grow slicker with need. He slowly slides a finger into my tight heat, gliding and grazing sensitive nerves. My other hand slides to his shoulder and I grip it hard as I experience sensations I’ve never felt before.

My incessant whimpers turn into soft, throaty moans as he slowly strokes the finger in and out. At the same time, his thumb continues its assault on my sensitive bud, stroking me until I’m quivering and writhing in his arms. He slides another finger inside my tight sheath, and I feel fuller than I’ve ever been, his strokes never-ending as they graze nerves and build one sensation after another.

My gaze pleads with his, unable to hold on to the burning ache. It grows until an intense need wells up inside me, like a wave of heat, searing me from inside out. I don’t understand it. I’ve never touched myself, and I didn’t know it would be this overwhelming.

“R-Roman?” I ask softly.

“It’s alright, baby. Let go,” he rasps.

“I…I can’t,” I whisper huskily. I don’t know how.