Page 133 of Only for Him

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “You’re dripping for me, little viper.”

I balance myself, tangle my fingers in his hair as I lean back, allowing him to take control. His hands are everywhere—raking down my spine, gripping my ass, spreading me open like he already knows exactly how I’ll fall apart.

Like I’m a melody he wrote himself.

My thighs tremble as he presses me back against the shower wall, cock sliding upwards between my folds and grinding on my clit. I should stop this. I should tell him I need time, that I’m not thinking clearly, that I just tortured a man to death and I might not know who I am anymore.

That I don’t deserve to be here, in his arms, because I’m not the woman he thinks I am.

That word on his shoulder applies to me, too.

I’m a traitor.

But when he lifts me like I weigh nothing, my legs wrap around his waist. I cry out, not from pain, but from the unbearable stretch of desire. I can’t stop him. I don’t have it in me. I need this too fucking much.

Will he still want me? When he finds out I’ve betrayed him?

I don’t care. Oh, God, I don’t care. My pussy is achingly empty without him.I’mempty without him, and I know as soon as he enters me I’ll break open and spill out as the final bits of the woman I used to be goes flowing down the drain.

I don’t want to be her anymore.

I need him to take me like I’m his, becausehisis all I want to be.

I’m lost in the rhythm of water and flesh and sensation, the gentle glide of his fingers digging into my hair and my own digging into the ridges of muscle at his shoulder, tremors of his pulse beneath my touch.

Roman’s breath is warm against my skin as his mouth drifts lower, trailing kisses down my collarbone and down my chest, igniting every nerve ending. I arch against him, urging him to take me deeper and drown me in everything that isus.

One final moment of clarity pierces through the haze—what I’ve done, how far I've gone to keep him close.

“What am I doing?” I whisper, a plea and a confession.

He pauses, his piercing blue eyes searching for something I’m not sure I can give. I’m an imposter in this realm of shadows and light, balancing on the razor's edge of lust and remorse.

“It’s just us, little viper,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly with need. “Let go of everything else.”

“Roman,” I plead, my hips jerking towards the hardness that still teases me everywhere but where I need it. I need him inside me. I need him to fuck me so bad, I can feel the desperation squirming like an animal between my teeth.

"Tell me you want this," he growls, mouth at my throat.

"I want this," I breathe, clawing at his back. "I want you."

He thrusts inside me with one hard, brutal thrust that knocks the air from my lungs.

I gasp. My head hits the tile. My nails dig into his shoulders.

He groans like the feel of me wrapped around him is a prayer answered.

And then he starts to move.

Hard. Deep. Relentless. His hips punish me for ever existing without him. I’m not sure I ever did.

The rhythm pounds through me, shoving everything else out—my guilt, my doubt, my fear. There’s only this. The man who baptized me in blood. The cock that’s rearranging everything I thought I knew about what I needed.

He kisses me like he’s starving. Like I’m the last soft thing he’ll ever get to taste.

And I kiss him back like I’m not afraid of anything anymore.

Each thrust of his hips is measured yet urgent, my body arching in time with the spray until that hot pulse of release builds behind my ribs, making the entire world fade into nothing.