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I nod, knowing I’m a lot of fucking talk. But I don’t care. The only thing holding me back now is fear that he’ll get sick of me and leave. But he’s seen the worst already, and he’s still here.

He wins the bet pretty fucking quick. I’m panting and writhing after the third orgasm as he withdraws his tongue from my clit. I’m so fucking sensitive when he slides two fingers inside me. Palm up, he finds my g-spot and pulls out the big guns. Massaging that spot, he moves fast, and my whole body shakes.

“Please stop, Roman. Please. You have to. You have to stop or I’m going to piss myself,” I gasp, surprised by the sudden need to empty my bladder. But I realize I’m an idiot a moment later when I understand what’s really happening.

“Just relax your body,” Roman commands, and the moan he rips out of me is barbaric, deep and guttural. When he pulls his fingers free, I do as he said and relax. His satisfied growl reverberates through me as my body gushes just for him. “That’s it, sweetheart. You’re so fucking good when you listen.”

I can’t catch my breath, pussy drenched and body sore, but I manage a chuckle. “It’s too bad I do it so rarely.”

He crawls up my body, releasing my hands from the straps, but keeping my legs tied as they are. He twines his fingersbetween mine, keeping my arms above my head. His cock slides through the wetness, and as he holds me still, he thrusts against me.

His mouth brushes mine, and I sink my teeth into the pillow of his lower lip as I rake my fingernails down his back.

“Fuck, Gwyn,” he breathes. “Can you take any more, baby?” He nuzzles the side of my face, pressing kisses down my neck.

“Fuck me like you hate me,” I say, and he laughs.

“You’re the actor, not me.” But he slams into me hard all the same. “Pretty, little slut taking me so sloppy and wet,” he groans, but I don’t think he can commit to more dirty talk as his thrusts grow more desperate. He’s been teasing me long enough that it won’t take him long to follow after me. He rolls his hips, using one hand to hold mine above my head and the other to caress my side. He bends down to kiss me as he thrusts deep.

“My mate,” I whisper, knowing how much it means to him—how much it means to us both. It tips him over the edge and he bites my lip hard as his body jerks without rhythm. I lift my hips, chasing friction, and it only takes one thrust for me to follow after him.

Later, after he’s cleaned me up and we’ve changed the sheets and are lying in bed together, I think he might have actually fucked my brains out.

Because for the first time, things are quiet. There’s no soft voice in my mind whispering all the horrific things I should be worrying about. There’s no repetitive bitch calling me worthless. It’s just pure silence.

Until Roman adjusts and pulls me closer. Tucking my head beneath his chin, I press my ear to his chest and all I can hear is his heart. The metronome that has led me headfirst into his arms beats sure and steady beneath me, and I feel at peace.

“Je t’aime, ma petite cafarde,” he whispers against my hair, the sweet cadence of his tender affection lulling me to sleep.