His hands climbed higher, exploring my body with a possessive urgency. “For the act.”
“A performance,” I whispered, kissing down his neck, my lips teasing the sensitive skin just above his collarbone.
“Finish it then,” he growled, thrusting upward into me again, his need unmistakable. “Make them remember what they’re missing.”
I locked eyes with him-dark, hungry, wild. His fingers slipped beneath the neckline of my top, brushing against bare skin, igniting a fire within me.
“I don’t think they’ll ever forget,” I breathed, leaning in closer, my lips grazing his ear.
With deliberate intent, I ground down again, feeling him-thick and hard, trapped beneath the layers of fabric, perfectly aligned with my aching core. No barriers. Just damp lace and tailored cloth separating us.
And the pressure?
God, it was maddening.
My hips rolled once, then again, my fingers tangling in his hair, feeling the heat radiate from him. “Still just a show?”
Roman growled low in his throat, pulling me tighter against him. His mouth found my neck, open and wet kisses morphing into bites that left bruises-proof of our reckless abandon.
His hand slipped between us, palming my breast right there in front of Dean and Chloe, squeezing hard enough that I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped my lips, loud, filthy, and needy.
Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, while Chloe stiffened, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“Ew, stop,” I heard her spit out in anger, her voice laced with jealousy.
A smile crept onto my face, a wicked thrill coursing through me.
I gasped as Roman cupped my breasts through the scandalous fabric of my outfit, his thumbs brushing over my peaked nipples with a tantalizing pressure.
His mouth traveled to my throat, biting and sucking, sending jolts of electricity racing down my spine.
“For the act,” he repeated, almost like a curse, as one hand slipped behind me to knead my backside, pulling me tighter against the firm ridge of him pressing up through his pants.
I moaned, unable to contain the sound. It slipped out before I could stop it.
And Roman heard it.
He felt it.
He turned his face toward mine, capturing my lips in his, and the kiss exploded into a frenzy of passion.
Messy. Desperate. Our tongues collided without rhythm or restraint. It was a clash of teeth, groans, and heat.
His fingers tangled in my hair, while mine clutched his collar, as if I would fall if I let go. Our mouths moved together like we were starving for each other, as if we were the only two souls in existence.
Across the room, Dean was leaning forward, fists clenched tightly around his drink, the glass threatening to shatter. Chloe’s jaw hung slack, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.
I felt Roman’s hips begin to move, thrusting gently against me, our bodies instinctively finding a rhythm. His hips rocked up, and mine responded by rolling down.
What should have felt like dry humping transformed into something far more intoxicating. The friction sent fire racing through my belly, igniting every nerve ending.
But this was not just a show.
No way.
Roman’s mouth crushed against mine, the kiss savage and unrestrained-no control, no sweetness, just raw possession.
I whimpered against his lips, and he bit my lip in response. I gasped, and he kissed me deeper, our tongues dancing in a messy, breathless, and vulgar embrace.
“Roman,” I panted against him, “this isn’t acting.”
He licked down the curve of my neck, his hand slipping under my bustier, his thumb brushing over my hard, sensitive nipple.
“Then stop pretending you want me to stop.”
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
His hand cradled my jaw, tilting my face to deepen the kiss. My moan was swallowed by him as I ground down harder, my breath catching in my throat.
He effortlessly supported both our weights, and I clung to his shoulders, clawing at his shirt. He gripped my hips, thrusting up again, his cock grinding into me in a way that made my body jolt with pleasure.
The friction? Perfect.
The rhythm? Deliciously dirty.
The tension? Unforgivable.
And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to stop.
Roman’s mouth found the swell of my breast, sucking the lace-covered mound into his mouth. My back arched, my head tilting back as I moaned, completely unbothered by Chloe’s gaping expression or Dean’s furious jealousy.
Dean looked as though he might combust.
Chloe had gone pale, gripping her clutch as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.
We locked eyes for a moment. She glared at me, then stomped off in a huff.
A dark smile curved my lips as I rolled my hips once more, slower this time, ensuring Dean saw every filthy second. Roman’s hands tightened around my waist, a low groan escaping his lips as he buried his face in my shoulder.
I bit back another moan, dragging my tongue along Roman’s jaw, feeling the heat radiate between us.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.