Page 152 of Uprising

I slide my fingers between her lips, teasing her but making sure not to touch her most sensitive part. I want her to want it. I want her to be desperate for it.

“Tell me Rose.”

“He..” She swallows, whimpering at what my hand is doing to her. “Please Roman.”

“Tell me what else he said.” I say like I’m not probing her entrance, teasing in every way except the way she wants.

“He would call me beautiful. He would tell me how soft my skin was. He would say how perfect my body was.” She half cries. “And he would groan, he would groan and go on about how tight I felt, how I was gripping him so well.”

I shut my eyes, storing that information, I’ve already said similar to her without meaning to. “You are beautiful.” I say, circling her clit so lightly, giving the reward I promised. “You’re so beautiful but it’s not just your body Rose. It’s you, you as a person. As the mother of my child. As the love of my life.”

She rocks her hips, she rubs herself against me as I tease her. “I can’t stop.” She says. “I want you to make me…”

She rolls her head back and I sink two fingers into her. She is tight. Her muscles are gripping me so perfectly though I don’t voice it.

“Roman.” She gasps.

I squeeze her breast with my other hand, massage it as I begin to thrust.

Her own hands fumble for me but I shift to block her off using my elbow. “This is about you Rose.” I say. “This is about you remembering your pleasure.”

“But I want you. I need you.”

“And you have me.” I say running my face against hers. “You always have me.”

“I need more.”

My lips curl. I thrust my fingers into her, curl them as she arches her back.

“That enough?” I taunt before I can stop myself.

“I need you Roman. I need to feel you. I need you in me.”

“Tell me then. Tell me the last of it.”

She shudders, her tears are streaming and I can’t tell if it’s from her need to come or her want to keep the worst bits from me.

I pinch her clit. Not hard. But the way I know she likes. She jerks, she spreads her legs wider, rocking her hips. “Make me come. Please Roman. Please.”

“Tell me and I will.”

She looks up at me, and for the first time since I started this I see real sadness, regret.

“He kept saying he wanted me pregnant. He wanted me to have his children. He kept saying that if I did then I would give in and love him.”

I tilt my head, dropping my gaze to her belly, remembering the taunt that her father said before. About how much Darius was fucking her non-stop. They would have tested her surely? She would have said if she was carrying his child. There would be signs.

“I’m not.” She says. “I’m not pregnant. And I never was.”

I let out a deep exhale. If she was, if she was carrying his child then would have dealt with it. We would have figured it out together. She would have been the one to decide if she wanted to keep it, she would have had that call and whatever action she took I would have supported her.

But I guess we don’t have to worry about that do we?

“Roman?” She asks quietly.

I curl my fingers, teasing deep inside her and that concern turns back to pleasure. Her face melts as she sinks back into me.

“The only child you’ve had is mine.” I say.