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"Good." He inhales deeply, his fingers digging into my ass. "You're mine. No one gets to see you but me." He presses a kiss against my throat, his lips so much softer than the words he growls at me. "And I want that little dress up around your waist and those heels on your feet with your ass in the air the first time I fuck you tonight, baby. You look sexy as hell." He kisses me again, his lips soft and gentle against mine.
God, I love him. He's so rough and wild but so fucking sweet at the same time. That combination drives me crazy in the best way possible.
He holds me to him for a moment, his hand still on my ass as he fights for control, and then he pulls away and holds out a hand. His eyes are still dark and needy, but he smiles at me. "Are you ready to go?"
I nod and take his hand, letting him lead me out to his truck.
Loud music pumps through the building, vibrating the dance floor beneath my feet as Roman spins me around and pulls me up against him, my back to his chest. My hips dip and roll in time to the beat as I sway, grinding against him.
I'm hot and sweaty, and a little bit tipsy thanks to the two glasses of wine he plied me with at dinner. We're on the Boardwalk at Venice Beach, at some bar he dragged me into when I mentioned how much I like to dance. It's loud and crowded, and I'm doing my best to distract Roman. He's been tense since the minute we walked through the door, looking over his shoulder every time he thinks I'm not paying attention. He's trying so hard to relax and enjoy himself, but I don't think he really wanted to come in here. He's on edge, nervous.
We've already been to dinner and out to explore part of the Boardwalk, which I loved. I've never been in Venice at night, and it's kind of incredible in a crazy sort of way. Now, I just want to get him out of here so I can get him naked. He's being stubborn and refusing to admit defeat. I love him for trying, but I'd love it even more if he'd take me home now. I don't need to be wined and dined. I'd honestly rather be sixty-nined.
"Stop grinding that sexy ass against me, Mila," he breathes in my ear, "or we aren't going to make it home before I bend you over."
"Promise?" I ask, tilting my head so he can hear me over the music. I reach up and lock one arm around his neck.
His hands slide up my ribcage, his thumbs ghosting across the sides of my breasts.
I push backward into him, rubbing my ass against his erection every time I sway my hips.
He growls and wraps one hand around the side of my neck, turning my face toward his. I take that as an invitation and press my lips to his. When he doesn't immediately kiss me back, I bite his bottom lip.
"Mila," he growls. His hand tightens on my neck, holding me to him like he's trying to trap me against his body.
I ignore his warning and bite his lip again. I'm horny and frustrated, and I really just want him to take me home already instead of being a stubborn pain in the ass when being here is obviously freaking him out.
Another growl rumbles in his throat. He kisses me back this time, though, his lips hard and demanding against mine.
Finally.
His tongue twists and dances with mine, first in my mouth and then in his. I love the way he tastes and the feel of his breath against my lips. This time, he kisses me like he fucks me…hard and rough, like he can't stop himself. He's panting, his body practically vibrating around mine as he fights for restraint.
I don't want him in control, though. I want him to let go.
I moan loudly, unable to stop the desperate sound when I can feel how hard he is for me, when I know how close he is to losing it. There's nothing sexier than watching him unravel because of me. That control shreds like paper, making him rough and wild and so fucking hot…God, he's gorgeous when he's like that. And it's only for me. No one else gets to see him when he's so turned on all he can think about is getting inside me.
I grind against him again, moaning his name.
"Fuck," he snarls.
Before I can even comprehend what's happening, he's dragging me across the dance floor and down a dimly lit hall. His shoulders are so broad he barely fits in the narrow space, but that doesn't slow him down any. I stumble, trying to keep up with his rapid pace. His body is completely rigid, his jaw clenched tight.
Is he seriously mad?
"Roman, I–"
"Nu-uh," he says, pulling me around a corner and then pushing me up against the wall. He cages me in with his body at my back, pushing my chest into the cool brick. His heart hammers against me. One big hand tangles in my hair. The other slides down my ass and then around my hip.
"You're always fucking with me," he growls, yanking the front of my dress up. The rough brick scratches my skin, making me moan. He shoves my legs apart with his foot. "Always trying to make me lose it."
"Roman," I moan, panting. He's discomposed, rough…and it's so fucking sexy.
God. Why do I find him so hot when he's like this?
"You can't help yourself, can you?" he snarls, biting my neck hard…marking me again.
I cry out and then cry out again when he shoves his hand into my panties. Anyone could walk by and see us. Even with his big body blocking me from view, it wouldn't take a genius to figure out exactly what he's doing to me. He's so far gone I don't think he gives a fuck.
