Renegade Path

“Touch yourself.” I skimmed my fingers over her soft skin, pressing her legs open wider.

“I’m so wet, Roman,” she whispered. “Mmm, you should feel it.”

Damn if she didn’t know how to make me snap. I stood, shoved my shorts down my legs, and pounced on her. The bed creaked under my weight. She laughed and pulled her hand from her panties.

“See?”

I grabbed her hand, sucking her fingers into my greedy mouth.

“Missed your taste.”

Her cheeks turned pink.

“Don’t you dare be embarrassed about anything we do together.”

“I’m not.”

“Good.” I snagged her underwear between my fingers and dragged them down her legs, tossing them aside. I shoved her thighs apart and inhaled.

A little pleading sound from her throat made me pause. Calmed me. I moved in and kissed her thighs. Ran my scruff over her soft skin. Her legs quivered and she threaded her fingers into my hair.

One corner of my mouth curled up. “You want me to kiss anywhere in particular?”

“Roman.” She sighed and wiggled her hips. “I want you everywhere.”

I swooped in and ran my tongue up her slit, stopping to roll it around her clit.

She arched off the bed and let out a short scream. Her legs shook and I grinned. I kept licking and sucking, tasting her until she begged me to stop.

“Please. I need…” She curled her hands over my shoulders.

In my head, when I’d been planning our reunion—if we ever reunited, some days I wasn’t sure I’d make it out of the Castle alive—I envisioned this lasting much longer. Spending hours and hours tangled in each other. Worshipping every inch of her body. But now that she was in my arms, I needed her too much. I reached for the nightstand.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“What?” My gaze swung to hers. “I need a condom.”

“No you don’t.” She curled her finger at me, inviting me closer to share her secret.

Hard dick in hand, I leaned in.

“I’m on the pill now. I want you bare. Inside me.”

I almost came all over the sheets.

In a quick move, I kicked my shorts off the rest of the way and hovered over her body. “You’re sure?”

She answered by wrapping her legs around me. I reached behind her, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under her hips before sinking inside her.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned the whole way. Her tight walls of heat gripped my cock sweeter than any fantasy I’d built in my head.

I took her mouth, sucking on her tongue while sliding out and shoving my way back in.

She tore her mouth from mine, gasping for air. “Don’t stop, Roman.”

I watched, fascinated, as her breasts bounced with each thrust. Deeper. I wanted to be so deep inside her. Crawl inside her warmth and never, ever leave. The numbness in my chest receded.

Crazed with the need to have her every way possible, I pulled out and flipped her over.

“Roman!” she yelped.

“Arch your back,” I demanded.

She glanced at me over her shoulder. Even though I must’ve looked like a maniac, whatever she saw reassured her. She relaxed, resting her weight on her arms, leaving her ass beautifully exposed. I gripped her hips and sank back inside. So good. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to slow down.

“Roman,” she whimpered.

I stopped mid-thrust. “What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?”

“You’re in…deep. And you’re still very, um, large.”

A rough chuckle spilled out of me. I leaned over, kissing her shoulder and down her spine, apologizing with my mouth and body. When she was wiggling and moaning for me to take her again, I flopped down on the bed. “Straddle me. Show me how much you can handle.”

I didn’t have to say it twice. She eagerly swung her leg over my hips and slid all the way down.

“Good?”

“Good,” she confirmed. “So, so good.”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on not coming. Fuck, she felt incredible.

Her breath grew ragged and her movements jerky. So tight around me. Her body shook and I lost it, pouring everything I had into her.

“Stop. Juliet. Stop.”

But she kept going. And going. I wrapped my arms around her and held on tight.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Juliet

I untangled myself from Roman’s arms and darted into the bathroom. When I returned, he was sprawled out in the middle of the bed sound asleep. With the sheet tangled around his waist and most of one leg hanging off the bed, he looked more like the boy I remembered.

I wanted to barricade the front door, load a shotgun—do whatever it took to keep evil away and protect him from the world.

“Roman?” I whispered, stepping closer.

His chest rose and fell. I studied the bruising on his pec. A fist most likely. I hoped he’d hit back twice as hard.

Torn between wanting to feed him and wanting him to rest, I watched him for a few more minutes. Finally, I slipped into a pair of loose pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt and headed to the kitchen.