Page 102 of Cruel Romeo

I hoist her into my arms and walk her upstairs. She writhes against me, her body grinding against mine with every step.

The moment we cross the threshold to the bedroom, I lower her to the mattress and start peeling off her clothes.

I take my time undressing her. Not because I want to tease her—though I do—but because I need to. Need to savor every second of this, of her.

I tug her sweater over her head, revealing the soft curve of her shoulders. Then I slide her jeans down her hips, so, so slow. My mouth follows, brushing over every inch of skin I uncover, dragging sighs out of her throat that shoot straight down my spine.

By the time I have her bare before me, my control is already hanging by a thread.

I spread her out on the bed, kissing along the inside of her thighs until she’s squirming, begging.

It drives me fucking crazy—the scent, the taste. How wet she is for me. Finally, her thighs clamp around my head, hands twisting in my hair.

“Petyr,” she whimpers. “Please.”

I raise my head, my chin wet with her juices. “Not yet,” I murmur. “I’m not done teasing you,lisichka.”

She groans, frustration and need mixing together. It sends blood pumping low. Knowing I can unravel her like this,make her forget every thought except me—it’s fucking intoxicating.

I give her a slow kiss that leaves her gasping. She can taste herself on my tongue, and the thought alone punches right between my legs. Her body is trembling, begging silently for more.

When I finally settle between her legs, I press into her slowly, inch by inch, savoring the heat of her. Her eyes widen, her lips parting around a soft cry.

Her eyes flutter closed, but I catch her chin in my hand. “No,” I growl. “Stay with me.”

Her lashes lift. When her gaze locks with mine, something breaks inside me. This isn’t lust. Well, not exclusively. Whatever this explosive thing between us is, it’s far more dangerous than that.

I hold her gaze as I start to move. Her nails rake down my back, her face twisted with pleasure as she bucks her hips towards mine.

I start fucking her harder, faster, deeper. “You feel so fucking good,” I rasp against her ear. “So fucking tight around me.”

I can feel her getting closer, her body tightening, her breaths coming faster. My control starts slipping. I’m supposed to be in charge, but every sound she makes drags me closer to the edge.

“Say it,” I order, thrusting deep inside her. “Say you’re mine.”

“Yes,” she gasps, clinging to me. “I’m yours.”

I press my forehead to hers, sweat mixing between us. “That’s it,” I murmur, low and filthy. “Come for me. I want to see you fall apart for me. Only me.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants, too far gone for shame. “Only you.”

A couple more thrusts, and her body clenches around me. Sima shatters in my arms, and watching her come undone while looking at me—only me—is what does it. I slam into her hard, groaning as I spill inside her.

For a long moment, I don’t move. I stay inside her, holding her close, my breath ragged against her neck. Her heartbeat pounds against my chest, quick and wild, and I can’t look away from her flushed face, her swollen lips. Her eyes, still hazy from pleasure.

And in that moment, I let myself imagine it:Sima, full with my child, tied to me forever.

The thought should scare me. It should make me stop whatever this is and look for another candidate, one that hasn’t sunk so deeply into me.

But I can’t even consider the thought. Instead, the fall feels inevitable. It feels like the only thing that makes sense.

She’smine. And I’m not letting her go.

Not even if it breaks me.

39

SIMA