Sinful

He nods. “It is. Now shut the fuck up and tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened.” I have one night. Just one night with him. I can’t ruin it just yet.

“You have red marks all over your arms. I know I’m rough sometimes, but that wasn’t me tonight, was it?” He cocks his head. “Royce told me my father and Zane were planning to hurt you. Tell me what they did.”

I give him a tight smile, the reality of leaving him hitting me all too soon, bringing another flood of moisture to my eyes. I blink it away, ignoring the dull pain in my chest where my heart is. “You lied to me,” I say softly, ruining the moment because I can’t help myself. “You lied, Romain,” I say again. Just like I lied to you.

He frowns, not expecting that at all. “About what?”

“About being sixteen when we first met.”

He stares at me for the longest time, brow furrowed, and then he empties his lungs. He shifts so he’s no longer on top of me but sitting up, looking away from me as he runs a hand through his hair. The loss of his warmth and attention is immediate that I sit up too.

“You can’t even look at me,” I say. “So it’s true?”

He darts a glance back at me, annoyed all of a sudden. “Why do you even care about that?”

“Because what I did was illegal,” I say flatly. And I’m a monster.

He runs his hands through his hair again before turning to face me. He takes my hands in his, eyes molten, reflecting back every kind of emotion I’m feeling. “Who cares? I want you, you want me? I don’t give a damn how we met or when. None of that matters.”

I keep shaking my head, laugh sticking in my throat at the absurdity of all this, the tightness in my chest becoming hot and white at his reaction. Why does he not get the severity of this? “I will go to jail.”

“Only if they find out.”

“They will find out. Your father—”

“So that’s it.” His jaw clenches, and he snorts a laugh. “They turned you against me.”

“They didn’t do anything. You lied to me. And I believed you and didn’t check. We’re the only ones to blame.” Me most of all.

“So that’s it?” The panic in his voice twists in my gut.

“I shouldn’t have let it get this far.” I close my eyes, so I don’t have to see his heartbreaking. “This isn’t real.” The pain sticks in my throat, making my words scratchy.

When I open my eyes again, Romain is still sitting across from me on the bed, looking every bit his age, however old that is—lost, hurt and confused.

“I should go.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “No, fuck this. You’re mine. I get to say how far we go.” There’s a dark light in his eyes that I’ve seen only once before, the day he found me in the pool house with Zane and Carter. “You’re not going anywhere,” he snaps.

He snatches my wrists and pulls me to him, branding my mouth with his.

I struggle against him. “No, Romain, stop.”

As though demon-possessed, he shoves me down on the bed and pins me in place with his body. He’s always been stronger, bigger than me, and he uses that power now to keep me where he wants me.

“I’ll stop when I want to,” he says, his tone guttural in my ear. The palms of his hands are rough as they push up my dress. I try to kick him, scratch him, anything, but he just laughs and yanks off my knickers, exposing me to him.

He holds me down with one hand while he unbuckles his belt and trousers.

I blink tears at him. “Romain, don’t. Just let me go.”

“No. No, you’re just in shock. You love it when I just take it.” He rubs his thumb over my clit, eliciting a moan from deep inside me. “See, you fucking love it.”

I do love it. I want him. I’ve been aching for him all night.

“Please,” I beg.