Page 12 of The Roommate (One Night #1)

“When I put my lips on you I feel the shivers go up and down your spine for me Make you cry for me”

I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

One moment I want to claw his eyes out, and the next I am submitting to him, melting under his command; letting him do anything he wishes.

It is years of desire to sate. I need him, inside me and now. I need him to take me hard and fast. That is my impatience talking.

Because at the same time, I want to take it slow. I want to explore him, learn the body I’ve fantasized about all this time, and take our time to make up for all these lost years.

But this isn’t making love, no it’s far from that. It’s reckless craving that is running in our veins.

And at the same damn time, I want to leave the country, probably shift to Mars.

If I wasn’t so drunk on him—on this need right now, I would be running away from him.

But God, my core aches for this green-eyed asshole, so badly, and so desperately.

So pathetically . That dignity doesn’t even factor in.

His hands grip me, maneuvering me against the headboard like I weigh nothing. Every freaking inch of my body is ignited. Every sense is too much, but also drowned. All I feel is my need to get off, and him. He is everywhere. I can’t take it anymore. I just need more, so much more.

“Spread your legs. I want to see you. All of you.”

I move against the headboard, and do as he asks. Though, order would be more of the right word.

I feel exposed. Completely. The cool air hits me, but it’s nothing compared to his scorching gaze.

It is so, so humiliating. Exhilarating.

It doesn’t escape me—the fact that I’m completely naked and laying bare and dripping for his eyes, while he is still fully dressed.

“So beautiful,” his praise coils low in my stomach.

His eyes light up when he looks up at me. “Look at that, my beautiful liar. So needy for me, yet still pretending you don’t crave this.”

He lifts my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Tell me, Blueberry, does it thrill you? The way your body gives in to me every time I take control.”

A whimper of agreement leaves my mouth.

“Open yourself for me,” his voice drops to a sinful whisper, “Or should I make you?”

His command lingers in the air, thick with dominance. It does unexplainable things to me. My veins flood with liquid heat.

I hesitate, just for a second, testing him.

His lips curl in that infuriatingly knowing smirk, the one that makes my pulse stutter. “Stubborn as always,” he murmurs, fingers trailing down my throat, over my collarbone, lower. “But we both know you’ll break for me, Blueberry.”

I don’t want to, but he’s right. I will, even if I’ll hate it.

His hand wraps around my wrist, forcing my own fingers between my thighs. “Show me how much you want it.”

I bite my lip, shame and desire warring inside me. But the second my fingertips brush against my slick flesh, a moan tears from my throat.

“Look at you,” he growls, his green eyes burning with possessive hunger. “Already so fucking wet. Just from my words.”

His stare burns directly at my hole. I beg him in my mind to just touch me already. I want his hands on me. A sadistic grin forms on his lips. “Finger yourself.”

I obey, as if my body is a doll, and he is the master.

I push one finger inside. It isn’t enough, but the push against my walls feels nearly good. I push another finger in—he shakes his head once, “Just one.”

I groan, but follow what he says. I drag my fingertip along my inner walls, teasing the spot that makes my thighs tremble. My breath comes in shallow gasps, my hips lifting instinctively, chasing the friction.

His gaze is relentless, watching every twitch of my fingers, every shudder of my body. His lips part slightly, his own breathing uneven, but he doesn’t touch me. Not yet.

“That won’t do. Fuck yourself, Blueberry.”

Only God knows why I don’t put an end to this. I can stop this, say my safe word, and I know he will stop. But I can’t. It’s humiliating, something I have never experienced but only read about in books. And what’s worse is that I don’t hate it.

I slide my finger in and out, slowly fucking myself. I close my eyes from the weight of embarrassment, and how much it turns me on.

“Now, don’t do that. Open your eyes and look at me.”

He grips my vulnerable throat, and pulls me into him. “Look. At. Me.”

My veins flood with liquid heat. My pussy clenches around my finger as I freeze. His eyes—Jesus, save me—his eyes are dark, pupils so dilated, there’s no green in them anymore. But they shine with a predator glint, hunger, need, desire…and it’s all towards me. For me.

“So pathetic,” He comments, but there’s no bite to it—only pure satisfaction. “Fucking yourself with just one finger because I told you to. Because you can’t help but obey me.”

His grip on my throat tightens just enough to remind me who’s in control. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

I whimper, my finger resumes moving in shallow thrusts, the slick sound obscene in the heavy silence between us. My thighs tremble, my body coiled tight, as the need to cum hits me like a train wreck.

My clit is swollen with need and fuck it, he didn’t tell me not to touch there. I move my other hand and rub my clitoris. I rest my head back without leaving his eyes as I chase the pleasure. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my skin burning, I’m getting close—

“Did I say you could come?”

I shake my head, biting my lip hard enough to taste copper.

“Then stop.”

My finger stills inside me, my entire body screaming in protest. A growl leaves my throat without meaning to.

He laughs, “You’re such a good girl. Obeying me even if it frustrates you.”

I shouldn’t have stopped. I could have gone through any punishment, but at least I would have gotten my pleasure. Who is he to tell me what I can and can’t do?

His laugh disappears as he pins me with his gaze. “You want to come?” His fingers trail down my chest, circling my nipple until it pebbles under his touch.

“Yes,” I gasp.

“Beg for it, sweetheart.”

A shudder wracks through me. “I—I need to come.”

“Hmm…that sounds more like an order.” His hand drifts lower, teasing my clit with a single, torturous stroke before pulling away. “Try again.”

Tears prick my eyes, humiliation and desire twisting together. “Please, let me come. I need it—need you.”

“Again.”

I sob, my body strung tight, my voice breaking. “Please, Aiden, just let me—”

“Let go.”

The command snaps the last thread of my control. My back arches, pleasure detonating through me in waves. I bite my lips so hard that I taste copper.

His gaze is molten. “Good girl.”

Without another thought, I blurt out, “Kiss me.”

He goes utterly still, his dark eyes flashing with something unknown. I almost think that I’ve ruined everything—

His mouth crashes against mine.

And the world shatters.

It’s not a kiss.

It’s a claim.

It’s as if a switch flipped with my words, when he suddenly grabs my throat, pulls me towards him, and claims my mouth.

I give him equally as good—our teeth clashing and biting.

Our breaths mingle in sharp, desperate gasps.

We kiss the way we feel, so fiercely. He goddamn devours me. Our lips part to take a breath.

Then he kisses me again. My legs part on their own to let him settle in between.

His mouth leaves mine only to trail down my jaw.

His teeth sinking into the sensitive skin of my neck.

I hiss at the sharp sting, knowing there’ll be marks tomorrow—knowing he wants them there.

He looks at me with so much fire in his eyes; I’m sure mine reflects his.

His mouth descends lower, teeth scraping over the swell of my breast before he bites down—hard. A gasp tears from my throat as his tongue flicks over my nipple, the contrast of his cool, wet tongue against my burning skin sends shock waves straight to my core.

God, I’m burning with need.

He drops his saliva on my tit, then laps it up, sucks on it and freaking bites me so hard. I groan at the overwhelming sensations. I’m aching for more and more. He gives the same treatment to my other breast.

He is claiming what is his as he marks me. He looks down, seeming to be mesmerized by reddened marks. His declaration of ownership without any words and the look in his eyes—it screams I am his.

And I just know I won’t be the same after this night.