Page 16 of The Roommate (One Night #1)

“Baby, I wanna fuck you I wanna feel you in my bones”

“Turn around.”

The command is a caress, rough with dominance. I obey without thought, flipping onto my stomach, heart hammering against my ribs. Anticipation coils in my veins.

His hands are on me before I can catch my breath—large, possessive, his. He drags me up on my knees, fingers digging into the sore flesh of my ass, still tender from his earlier punishment. A hiss escapes me as he spreads me open, exposing what belongs to him.

Only him.

“So beautiful.” He murmurs.

I feel his warm tongue tracing my most forbidden place, and my entire body jerks. My eyes widen as heat floods between my thighs.

God.

His thumb replaces his tongue, and presses against my tight rim, “Relax, my Blueberry.”

His hands disappear, and before I can protest, I hear the unmistakable sound of a cap clicking open that sends a shiver down my spine. Cold lube drips onto my sensitive flesh, and I flinch, muscles clenching instinctively.

“Aiden—”

“Shh.” His breath is hot against the shell of my ear, as his fingers circle my back entrance. “You want to know how many women I’ve had?”

No.

He spanks my cheek, suddenly, not hard, but it aches the same, making me yelp. I fist the sheets beneath me in a deathly grip.

He presses a single digit inside, just to the first knuckle, and holy Jesus Christ , my eyes roll back into my head. “None.” Another inch. “No one matters when you’re here. It’s fucking annoying, if you ask me.”

I know his words are a lie, another game. But my stupid heart stutters anyway.

His free hand tenderly massages my sore flesh, coaxing me to relax. “Loosen up, sweetheart. Let me in.”

I gasp, as he adds the tip of another finger inside my hole, stretching me slowly. “Breathe.”

It doesn’t hurt, but it is that uncomfortable pressure. Then, he pushes both his fingers deep inside me. My vision whitens out, nails biting into the sheets.

Holy Jesus.

“That’s my girl. Just like that.” His encouraging words do help a bit. The stupid inner me relishing in the accomplishment and his approval.

More lube, another slow push. “You’re taking me so well.”

“Aiden, please—”

I’m panting, writhing, needing. The stretch burns, but the pleasure—God, the pleasure is everything.

“You’re doing so well, my Blueberry.” His encouraging words don’t stop.

Then I feel it—the cold, blunt pressure of metal against my entrance.

I breath, “Aiden—”

“Take it. Like the good girl you are.” He leaves no room for refusal. “Like my perfect little slut that you are.”

There is something seriously wrong with me, because my vagina cries with need every time he calls me that.

I bite my lip, my body resisting for half a second before the slick pressure wins, and the plug slides in, filling me in one relentless push. A choked moan tears from my throat as the stretch burns, then blissfully eases into pleasure.

How did I never realize that anal stimulation feels this good?

Aiden groans, “Fuck, look at you.” His palm smacks my ass, the sharp sting making me jerk. “Already so fucking greedy for it.”

His fingers trail down, slipping through my dripping folds, stopping at my clit. He rolls the bud between his fingers. Every touch is consuming, and making me utterly insane. I push my hips back, wanting—no, needing him to take me already.

“You have absolutely no patience, do you?” No. None.

I whimper, my hips rocking back against the intrusion, the fullness sending sparks up my spine. I want it, I want everything. The pain. The pleasure. All of it.

But Aiden doesn’t give. Not easily.

He takes.

His fingers circle my clit, until my thighs tremble.

“Please—” God, I sound so pathetic, but I can’t help it either.

“Please what?” His teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Use your words, Blueberry.”

Then his hands are on my waist, flipping me onto my back, like I weigh nothing. His weight pins me to the mattress.

I hate him.

I crave him.

“Tell me what you want, Blueberry.” His fingers fists in my hair. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Aiden—” My breath hitches. “I need you.”

“Need me for what?”

I turn back around and growl—like an animal. Because that’s what he makes me. Wild with need.

I don’t beg.

My hands fist his stupid shirt between us, breathlessly. I scrape my nails at the neck of his shirt, like I could tear it apart if I tried hard enough. “Take it off.”

He chuckles. “You seem to have forgotten who gives orders here.” He pulls my hair, tilting my head back. “Maybe I’ll fuck you raw and leave you begging.”

My eyes snaps to his, “No, just—please.” The plea is ragged, stripped of pride. I don’t care anymore. I just need him.

I clench my fist and bring him closer to me, breathing him in—his scent mixed with mine.

With a sharp movement, he strips off his shirt, and my mouth goes dry.

Jesus .

He’s all hard muscle, built like a freaking God. My fingers itch to touch him to trace every ridge, to claim who has already claimed me.

I reach for him—

His hand snaps out, catching my wrist in a bruising grip. “Don’t.” His voice strained, his eyes darker not with need, but something else I’m unable to put my finger on.

Before I can protest, he pins my wrists above my head, his grip unyielding, “Don’t move them, or I’ll stop.”

Then he’s stripping off his sweatpants, his briefs, revealing the thick length of his cock, already hard, already mine.

I can’t stop staring, even if I tried.

I imagine taking him in my mouth—

His mouth crashes on mine.

Brutal. Consuming. A wildfire of possession and need.

And I burn with him. For him.

My legs fall open, an unspoken surrender, and he settles between them like he was made to be there.

The head of his cock pressed against me, not entering but just enough to tease. A low whimper escapes me, my body trembling with need. “Aiden. No more teasing, I need it. I need you to fuck me, please.”

A chuckle rumbles his chest, “Tell me who you belong to.”

I can’t. Won’t.

I shake my head, as my body betrays me, clenching around nothing.

“Wrong answer.”

With one brutal thrust, he buries himself inside me to the hilt, the stretch burning in the most exquisite way. The plug in my ass making every inch of him feel bigger, deeper.

“Fuck, blueberry. You feel so good.” He moans.

I scream, my back bowing, the cuffs biting into my wrists, as I struggle against the overwhelming fullness.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his teeth sinking into my shoulder. “Say it.”

He doesn’t wait.

Doesn’t give me a second to adjust.

He fucks me—hard, relentless. His hips slamming into me with a force that steals my breath. Each thrust jostles the plug, the dual stimulation dragging ragged sobs from my lips.

Just the way I need it.

Tears blur my vision, pleasure and pain spiraling together until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

“Say it, my beautiful good girl.”

I thought my first time would hurt, but he prepared me so damn well. For him. I don’t even bleed, and all I care about is the ecstasy of his possession.

“Yours,” I sob, the word ripped from me. “Only yours.”

“Good girl.” His praise is a brand, searing deeper than his cock.

He stretches me so tight, and it feels so damn good.

“Such a good girl.”

He gropes my breast, squeezing until pleasure and pain dances along my nerves. The relief I feel is so—he hits a point in me that makes me lose all my control. “Oh God—”

His groan is guttural, “No, sweetheart. Tonight, you scream my name.” His pace turns feral. “Tonight, I’m your God.”

“Scream for me, Blueberry.” His cock drags against every over-sensitized inch inside me—it’s too much. “Let the whole world know who owns you.”

And when his fingers find my clit, I shatter with his name on my lips, my body convulsing as white hot pleasure detonates inside me.

But he’s not done.

He pulls out of me, flipping me onto my stomach and pulls me on my knees, again.

“I love seeing you come, Blueberry.” He grabs my throat, squeezing it slightly.

“I love it when you cry for more.” He slams back into me, deeper, harder.

“I love it when you scream.” His thumb circling my oversensitive clit.

“In fact, you’re going to come for me again.

” I whimper as he pulls back and thrusts into me hard from behind.

“I—I can’t—”

“You will,”

And I do.

I shriek, another orgasm tearing through me, as he pounds into me relentlessly, his cock hitting that spot inside me that makes me see stars. This new angle making my body frantically twitch, muscles tremble and tears fall of pleasure and so much more.

It feels as if my soul left my body and ascended to heaven.

I collapse, and if it not for his arms around me, I would have fallen on the bed. But oh God, His pace doesn’t lessen.

“Your body obeys me so beautifully.”

I whimper. Heat radiates from the point of contact. He grips my hair, kisses, bites my neck, my shoulder. “Fuck. I need to come inside you, Blueberry.”

“Do it.”

I feel him pulse, hot and thick, spilling into me. I groan as his teeth sink into a soft juncture between my shoulder and neck one last time.

Claiming me.

Owning me.

In every way possible.

He pulls out of me, letting me fall on the bed, carefully. I collapse, boneless, his heavy body draping over mine, panting; his body hot and heavy against my sweat-slicked skin.

“Mine.”

The cuffs click open, the bite of the metal leaving faint marks on my skin. His fingers trace the reddened skin, possessive even now. Mine , that touch says.

We’re a tangle of sweat and sin, the air thick with the scent of us.

Time stretches, slowly, before he moves. He drags me up with him, his grip unrelenting, as if letting go would mean I’d vanish.

Maybe I would. Maybe I should.

“You’re shaking.”

“From disgust,” I lie, even as my body leans into him.

A low chuckle. “Still a liar. Maybe I didn’t punish you enough.”

I let him clean me up. I probably need a shower again, but I’m too tired to move a limb.

He picks me up, drop me on the chair, changes the drenched sheets, and pulls me back down on the bed with him. All so efficiently, there’s no lingering trace of the man who just wrecked me with his filthy words and rough hands.

His arm, like a steel band, locks around me, dragging me back against his chest. I should fight, now that I have oh so easily lost in that game, and this is all over, but it’s so comforting. For tonight only I’ll let it.

I lay, completely bare—exhausted but satisfied, still in disbelief.

How did we get here? From our rivalry to this—a tangle of lust and something far more dangerous. There was rarely any minute between us that used to go without making it a competition.

I twist to look at him, searching for answers in those lethal green eyes. I find him staring at me back, his gaze cutting straight through me.

“What?” I snap.

“You’re thinking too loud.”

“Maybe you’re just obsessed with my thoughts.”

“Maybe I am.”

He watches me like he’s memorizing the way I fall apart for him.

Then, without warning, his mouth is on mine—soft. Too soft.

This man, who just had me begging in every language, kisses me like I’m something fragile. Like I’m his.

And that is worse than the roughness. Worse than the pain.

I break away, breathless. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” His thumb swipes my lower lip. “Don’t taste you? Don’t want you? Don’t—”

“Don’t pretend this is anything but what it is.”

“And what is it?”

I glare. “A mistake.”

He laughs, his eyes flashing with a hint of disappointment, or maybe I’m imagining it.

“Go to sleep, my Blueberry.” He kisses my forehead, as sleep immediately pulls me in.