Page 77

“I want to hear you come,” he says, voice strained, and I know it’s because he’s close. “Cry out for me one more time.”

I’ve already come more than enough times tonight, and my clit is swollen and wet and so sensitive because of it. Gently, I try not to overdo it as I press the vibrator harder against it, but I’m panting within seconds. The pressure is more than enough. Overwhelming and complete, my entire body tingles and I can’t help but jerk my hips. It’s so fucking easy with Roman. Just knowing he’s watching his cock slide into me is more than enough to tip me over the edge. I’m jealous of his view, wishing I could see just how stretched out I am for him. I know I’ve got a nice ass, and it’s probably so hot, and I’d ask him to take a picture if our phones were nearby.

“Tell me how much you love this,” he orders, lacing his voice with a command he knows won’t work. But it does anyway. His words wrap around my throat, tilting my head back as I moan. “Tell me you want this forever.”

I do. I want this forever, and that’s terrifying.

“Needit forever,” I admit on a breath.

My pussy clenches, and I think maybe Roman can feel it because he’s cursing as his hands pull down on my hips, filling my ass with his cock.

“Come in my ass,” I say, massaging my clit through the aftershock of my pleasure, and it turns him into a man possessed. He adjusts his legs, lifting off the bed for power as he pushes so deep that I nearly scream. It’s invasive and total and it’s exactly what I want from him.

“Fuck, Gwyn,” he says, hands squeezing my ass hard enough to hurt. I hope it leaves bruises even if they won’t last for long.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, and he’s groaning loudly, like some wild beast.

He smacks my ass, and begins panting my name. When he finally breaks, I can feel it as he fills me up. It’s so much that it leaks out despite his cock still being inside me. He’s thrusting through his orgasm, and I squeeze his tense thighs.

He grabs my hips to still me and stop me from torturing him by continuing to move, and I start to laugh. It’s quiet at first, but then it turns into something manic as I pull myself free. I’m sticky and thoroughly fucked, but I don’t care as I crawl up his body and cuddle against his chest. There’s only a moment of hesitation before he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close.

“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” he asks, and I can’t help it as my laughter renews.

“It’s not funny, not really. Just…new. Something I’ve never done.”

He reaches over, tipping my chin up to look at him. There’s an easy smile on his mouth, and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him more relaxed. He lifts a brow, wanting an explanation.

“You used all my holes tonight,” I murmur, cheeks burning crimson as I say it.

His stomach shakes as he laughs in response, but his words are far from funny. “You’re mine. I stuffed you full and fucked you raw, and you won’t ever forget it.”

“Never,” I agree, and I allow myself to imagine the two of us a year from now, splayed out and exhausted from hours of this. When my mind doesn’t immediately reject the idea, and even makes it seem feasible, I tamp down my fear the best way I know how.

Sitting up, I press a kiss to his lips, wondering if my hope is only a cruelty.

28

ROMAN

It didn’t takeGwyn long to fall asleep on my chest, one of her fingertips dancing up the vines inked over my skin. I’ve lost track of time, watching her inhale and exhale, listening to her heart beat with mine. The sky is lightening through her window, but sunrise is still a ways off. I don’t know how long I’ve been laying here, letting myself pretend this was just one of those oddly comfortable nights after her Ascension. Curled up against me in my bed, she’d fallen asleep comfortably nearly every time we slept together. At the time, I’d thought it was because she found my presence comforting. Now, I don’t know.

She adjusts in her sleep, moving onto her back before rolling to lie on her other side. Gwyn assumes the fetal position. Curved back and tucked knees, she looks so small folded into herself. She never rolled away from me during those early days. In fact, Gwyn was usually the first to sleep and the last to wake, one leg thrown over me and tucked between my own. I’d had to peel her off me.

I don’t like that she’s rolled over now, and it pisses me off that it bothers me.

I pull the sheet over her. She’s still naked, and even with her vampiric tolerance, she has goosebumps. Gently, I rub my handover her arm then down her side and over the swell of her hip. She stretches out a bit, but she doesn’t come back over to lay on my chest. I don’t like it.

After we finished, I wanted to clean her body. I wanted to take care of her and kiss her and hold her, and fuck if that isn’t insane. Instead, I opted to stay still, holding her close as she traced the designs on my chest. I’m not sure if it’s cowardice or self preservation that makes me keep my distance.

Now that she’s moved, I sit up on the side of the bed. My beard smells like her, and washing my face is a top priority. I need to clear my mind, and I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to do that if I stay here. The room reeks of sex, and I’m sure the rest of the penthouse isn’t any better.

But I can’t go home like this.

I can’t walk into my house and risk my brother scenting her on me. When I fucked her at Sanguivita, I’d gone back to Margot’s afterwards to shower. Even then, I’d smoked half a pack to dull any lingering scent before I went inside my own home. After our conversation, I have to wonder where Remy stands with Gwyn. He hadn’t seemed too concerned about her, and I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s because he interacted more with Hale and Sasha or because he doesn’t mind her that much, or maybe the worry over his stepdaughter had been enough to overshadow the rest. Or maybe it’s as simple as their shared ache to end it all.

My brother’s mental state is far too fragile to talk about any of this. We haven’t even discussed what happened during the year he was held captive. He knows a little bit about how things with Gwyn transpired, and I don’t know if Margot told him or if it was someone else. But he clearly has an inkling. And yet, I know very little about his captivity. It didn’t seem like something I should ask about, so I’ve been waiting for him to bring it up. Before Gwyn released him to me, I sometimes wondered whatkind of torture he’d endured at her hand. But now, I’m pretty sure it was minimal. Considering how thoroughly she’d adjusted his accommodations, making it impossible for him to even hurt himself, let alone do anything worse, I doubt she tormented him. At least, not any more than I would have if I were her. Less, I’m sure.

Part of me hopes the precautions she took with that apartment only came after she started caring for me. Maybe she treated him like shit for most of it, and then whatever affection she had for me caused her to consider his well being more thoroughly. But I just can’t see it—neither Remy being tortured for a year nor Gwyn doing it. I don’t wish he was tortured, but I wish I had more reason to hate her than I do.