Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
I love every minute of it.
"Four fucking years, Mila," he growls against my lips. "Four fucking years, I've thought about taking you like this." He lifts my leg, hitching it around his hip. The change in position lets him slide in even deeper.
My nails claw across his back as I writhe and contort beneath him. I'm lost in him, as out of control and wild as he is, taking everything he gives me and demanding more, more, more. His teeth find my throat. His hand finds my nipple. He's all over me as he bites me, fucks me, and plays with my body like he owns it. And it's too much.
"Say it," he snarls when my inner muscles start to clamp down on him.
"Roman," I cry out, clawing again, trying to push him away and pull him closer at the same time.
"Say it," he says again, and I know that's not what he wants to hear. Not this time.
So I say it. I scream it so loudly my throat hurts.
"Mr. Gregory."
"Mila," he roars, holding me down as he comes, his fingers digging into my hips and his mouth against my throat.
Another orgasm slams into me, hitting me so hard I think I'm going to explode into tiny pieces. I forget to breathe, forget I even know how to breathe as it rips me savagely apart while he spills into me, filling me full of him and of what we just did.
Chapter Seven
Mila
When I finally come back to myself, he's on top of me, his heart thundering against my chest. He's a hot, sweaty mess. So am I. Every muscle in my body is sore. It feels so fucking good.
"Hi," I whisper when he pushes himself up in his arms to look down at me.
"You good?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah." I nod. "I'm good." Better than good, actually. I'm amazing. I've never felt better. He's been inside me once, and I think I may already be ruined for anyone else.
His gaze travels carefully across my face, scrutinizing and studying me. Once he's sure I'm okay, he smiles like a little boy who just got everything he wanted for Christmas. His smile is so tender and gentle that I'm not prepared for the warmth it sends shooting through me.
"I knew you'd go wild, but I didn't know you'd be so fucking hot for me, baby," he says, leaning down to kiss me. His lips are soft against mine, a quick brush. He touches his forehead to mine and then pushes himself upright, groaning when he slips out of me, still half hard.
I blush at his words, not sure how to respond. I'm not sure what that warm feeling in my chest is all about. I'm not sure I like the way it feels when his big body no longer covers mine, either.
God. What is he doing to me?
I lay there for a protracted moment, just watching him as he grabs a washcloth out of the drawer beside the sink and then turns the hot water on. He's still completely nude, and moves like that fact doesn't bother him in the least. He's confident and sexy. My claw marks are all over his back and shoulders. Heat unfurls low in my belly at the sight of them, but there's no way I can go another round right now. I'm not even sure I can stand up.
He crosses back to me and uses the washcloth to clean me up.
I blush again at the intimate act.
Once I'm more or less clean, Roman holds a hand out to me and pulls me into a seated position. He surprises me when he steps up in front of me and wraps his arms around me. I'm unsure what I expected, but it's not this gentleness or sweetness. He seems relaxed and content as he holds me. I don't think I've ever seen him so still. I find myself liking the way being in his arms feels, maybe a little too much.
I push away, gently untangling myself from him.
He looks down at me, but if he sees the fear suddenly whispering through me, he doesn't comment on it. "You hungry?" he asks instead.
"Starving." My stomach growls loudly as if to punctuate my words.
He laughs. The sound rolls over me. It's deep and dark, and I realize that I've never heard him really laugh before. When I've spent time around him, he was always quiet, always observing and studying. In all the time I've known him, I can't remember us ever having an actual conversation either. We spoke in brief snippets or through Tahani, rarely to one another directly. Yet, I'm fairly certain he probably remembers every word I've ever spoken around him.
I contemplate this revelation as he yanks his sweats up over his legs, washes his hands, and then strolls to the fridge and pulls it open to look inside. I'm not sure why he never talked to me. Was he avoiding me, or did he simply prefer to stand back and observe?