Page 16

Zoriah

Three Weeks Later

I do the same fucking thing every damn day.

I get up, go to work, come home, hide away, and continue to work, shower, read, and eventually go to sleep.

I have violent nightmares all night to the point that Roman isn’t sleeping.

I have been pretending to sleep the last few days for long enough so that Roman goes to sleep.

Then I just stay awake all night. He thinks my nightmares have gone away, but I just haven’t slept in three days.

I take little naps when I can, but I’m still exhausted.

I always have someone with me. Always. I cannot do one goddamn thing without someone being up my ass.

Today I’m not giving them a choice but to leave me home alone.

Dad and Corbin are talking with a builder.

They’re planning on buying the property next to Roman’s to build two houses.

Roman and Ben have an extremely important meeting.

I am going to claim to have cramps and make them leave me here. I just want to be alone.

Everybody walks on eggshells with me. It’s always like they want to talk to me about something or want to ask a question, but they never do.

They are secretive with their thoughts, and it’s annoying.

They all annoy me. I just want them to open up and fucking talk to me, but they are terrified of triggering me.

I would rather be triggered and get through this situation knowing what is on their minds than feel like a burden in a place that is supposed to be my home.

Roman and I cuddle every night, and I want him to fuck me senseless, but I can’t imagine actually consenting right now.

I keep wanting him to just take it, but I won’t tell him to.

I think it is that I expect him to, so I prepare myself, but he never does.

I know he jerks off in the shower at night because I have frequently seen him do it.

Maybe that’s creepy, but he keeps the door open when he thinks I’m asleep.

I can then just lay in bed and watch. He has a massive cock that is undoubtedly going to stretch me like Huxley’s did.

They’re both long and thick. God, I would love to have both of them take me so violently that I beg them to stop.

I won’t want them to stop. No safe word.

No way out. I just want them to absolutely fucking demolish me but then carefully put me back together after.

I’m lying in the bed watching the reflection in the bathroom.

Every morning, he thinks I’m sleeping when he strokes his cock.

Every morning, I lay here and imagine myself on my knees for him.

He doesn’t know that I see him, but he’s about to.

I get out of bed and tiptoe to the bathroom.

I don’t want him to get the chance to stop and pretend like he wasn’t doing it.

I want to catch him mid-stroke and make him finish while I watch.

I want him to know that I see and understand all I want is him, but I’m not ready for him.

Before I step in, I pull off my clothes and prepare to step into the shower with him.

His eyes are closed, and he is going slow as I get to the glass shower door. As soon as I pull it open, his eyes snap open and we lock eyes. I simply smile and shut us in before sitting on the tile-covered bench. “Keep going,” I say.

“This is a dangerous game for you, mi amor,” he growls as he stands between my legs. He is fisting his cock, and he is at eye level. I could very easily take him down my throat. I want to do it so badly.

“Please don’t stop,” I say softly. “Go slow.”

“Touch yourself, mi amor. Come with me,” he says.

I sigh softly and let my hand wander until I gently stroke across my already swollen clit.

He places his hand on the wall to lean into me as he strokes himself.

Fuck, he is so close. Would he let me lead?

Explore? God, I just want to feel him. I want to feel how hard he is and know he could destroy me, but he chooses not to.

I moan softly and look up at him. “God, Roman,” I whine.

“What is it, Riah? Tell me,” he says, slowly pumping his cock. Veins bulge along the length of his dick, and he groans when I lay one hand on his thigh. “Speak, or I stop.”

“I want to make you feel good. I’m not ready for sex,” I admit quietly, dropping my gaze. He grabs my chin and makes me look up at him.

“This is your show, my love. What do you want?” he asks gently.

“I want to make you come, Roman. Hand or mouth. I’m not ready for anything more than that,” I say.

“Do you want to lead or me?”

“Both. But I want to start,” I say.

“And when I lead?”

“I want you to fucking destroy me no matter how hard I fight you,” I say bluntly. “No safe word. No way out. I trust you not to hurt me, so I trust you won’t do more than the limit I set. Right now, oral is my limit.”

“I won’t be nice, Zoriah,” he says simply.

“I don’t want nice. I want brutal, Roman. What do you want?”

“I want you to fight me, but I want you to want to lose,” he says. “But I also want you to start and tell me when you want me to take over.”

“Okay,” I smile.

I tentatively bring my hands to his cock, and we both relax when I grip the base and let him slip through my grasp. The head of his cock is easily slipping through my hand, and I go faster. “Talk me through how you like things,” I say. “I want to know you.”

“Tighten your grip some,” he says. Roman cautiously adjusts so that he can gently grab the back of my neck with one hand. His other is on my shoulder. I tighten my grip, and he groans softly. “Good girl. Just like that. Focus on the head. It has most of the nerve endings.”

“God, you’re so big,” I say softly. I lick my lips in anticipation, and he gently nudges me toward his cock. I gently collect the bead of precome with my tongue as I lick across the head of his cock.

“Fuuuuck,” Roman sighs.

“You taste sweet,” I say happily as I look up at him. “Like Huxley.”

“Then enjoy yourself.” He smiles wickedly.

I smile innocently back up at him before dragging a surprised gasp out of him when I take his cock straight to the back of my throat.

I let my tongue slide along the backside of his cock, and he growls as I gently suck.

I pull him out of my mouth, and he grunts disapprovingly.

“That okay?” I ask with a grin.

“Be careful, mi amor. I’ll get my turn soon enough,” he says, tangling his fingers in my hair.

“Maybe,” I say sweetly. I take him back into my mouth and just suck on the head of his cock as I swirl my tongue around the tip.

I’ve read so much smut that I feel as though I have a good idea of how to blow his mind.

I just haven’t ever had the chance to practice.

I know smut isn’t always realistic with arm-sized cocks and a cunt that can magically fit it all, but the premise is all the same.

Men want to be worshipped just as much as women do, and I fucking worship Roman.

When he speaks Spanish, even just calling me his love, I want him to fucking ravage me at the same time.

He rarely speaks Spanish unless he is around his parents, but even then, it’s in little bits occasionally.

Roman’s parents were raised in Columbia, but came here when they were teens.

They busted their asses to get where they are.

They both escaped the cartel, so they changed their names and started over when they became citizens of the United States.

I don’t know much about their lives beyond that, but I know his mom understands what I went through.

When Roman explained, she cried. Those tears were not just out of sympathy, but an understanding of what was taken from me.

Ever since, she has been attentive to me and is always checking in.

I slowly stroke and suck his cock, pulling small moans from him.

I reach a point where all I want is for him to break and take my throat by force.

I battle with it for a minute before understanding that I have to speak up and tell him what I want.

He isn’t going to take over without knowing that is what I want.

That is the difference between consent and rape.

I pull back and put my hands on his thighs. I smile softly and just take a second to look at him. I am still wanting him to just read my mind and do it, but I know he won’t, at least not the first time he won’t.

“Tell me what you want, Riah,” he says softly.

“I want you to take over,” I say quietly. I go to drop my head when shame sweeps in, but he lifts my chin.

“Own it, Zoriah. You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he says softly. “Say what you mean and be specific.”

“I want you to take me as hard as you want… whenever you want. I want you to use me to release stress instead of jerking off in the shower… I am not ready to be touched like that right now, and I only want you to use me orally, but I don’t want nice and sweet.

No one has ever been nice and sweet with me,” I say.

“No safe word. No way out. I trust you with my life, and I want you to feel good. You feeling good makes me happy, and I am desperate to feel happy.”

“You understand what you are giving me permission for, right?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“That means I can take you whenever and wherever I want. At home. In the car. In the office. In public. If I want you to take me, you will. I will do it no matter how hard you fight me. No matter how much you beg me to stop, I won’t until you have swallowed every last drop of me,” he warns as if he is trying to scare me.

“I will use that pretty little mouth as much as I want, and there won’t be a damn thing you can do but sit there and look pretty while you choke on my cock. ”