“Thank you,” I say when he sits the mug down in front of me.
“Where is—”
“Fawn!” Roman’s shout cuts George off while answering his question. I roll my eyes and keep drinking my coffee. I hear him coming down the hallway sounding like a bull in a china shop. George’s eyes are wide. So this isn’t normal. It seems I’m the one that sparks this type of reaction from him.
“Out!” Roman shouts at George. I don’t even look his way. George does as Roman says. I wonder if I could make my escape with him.
Roman’s hands come down on the kitchen island, one on each side of me, caging me in. The heat of his body presses into my back.
“You left our bed,” he growls next to my ear. I hate how my nipples harden. I press my thighs together. How the hell is this turning me on? I should be running for the damn hills.
“Leave me alone.” I lift my coffee, taking another sip. He doesn't move. In fact, he doesn't do anything for a long moment. When I set my coffee back down on the counter, he suddenly spins my chair around to face him. His face is unreadable, but I stare him right in the eyes.
“I’ll never leave you alone. You’re my wife.”
“Right. ‘Cause I forgot.” I roll my eyes. “Fine, what should I be doing right now? I’m bought and paid for, correct? Would you like me to go back upstairs and lie down? Or is there something else you need? Perhaps you want me to bow down and kiss your feet?”
“What has gotten into you?” His eyes search my face. He looks as if he’s completely lost and doesn’t have a clue what to do.
“Can I finish my coffee and go check on Grams and Ace? Is this what you’ll require from now on, me asking permission for every move I make? Or do you want to shout at me some more?”
“I don’t shout at you.” He’s so close I can feel his warm breath against my skin. His eyes drop to my mouth. “You’re not bought and paid for.” I start to respond, but his mouth comes down onto mine.
I find myself kissing him back. As mad as I am at my husband, I still think I might be a little in love with him already.
15
Roman
She doesn't push me away, so I deepen the kiss. The woman is going to give me a fucking heart attack if she doesn't stop scaring the hell out of me. I need to see about a tracker for my own sanity.
I pull my mouth from hers, needing to taste more of her. I lick and suck down her neck. Small moans pour from her. She might be pissed at me for some reason, but her body is still responding to mine. She can’t fight the pull no more than I can.
“You’re a jerk.” Her words come out breathy.
“Is that so?” I nip her neck. She’s not wrong. “But I’m your jerk.” I lift her out of the chair, sitting her on the counter and pulling her ass to the edge. I slip my hands into her little shorts. I groan when I feel how wet she already is for me.
“Roman.” She drops her head back as I start to stroke her clit.
“Say I’m yours, Fawn.” Another moan comes from her. “Say I’m your husband and I belong to you.” I stop stroking her. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, but I don’t continue. I need to hear the words from her. To know that she needs me as much as I do her.
“Roman.” She tries to wiggle against my hand, needing friction.
“Say it. I want to hear it.”
“You're my husband and you belong to me.”
“Damn right I am.” I cover her mouth with mine as I push a finger inside of her, using my palm to grind against her clit. She moans into my mouth, her pussy clamping down on my finger, letting me know she’s about to come for me. She’s so damn sexy.
I break the kiss, needing to watch her as she comes. As soon as I do, she cries out my name. I keep going until she relaxes into me. Slowly, I pull my fingers out from her shorts, licking them clean. She watches me, her cheeks turning pink. Her innocence is intoxicating, and thank God it’s all mine forever.
“I’m still mad at you.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
She scrunches her nose. “Do you even know what you’re saying sorry for?” I shake my head no. “But you’re saying it anyway?” I’m not sure what answer she’s looking for, but the only thing she’ll ever get from me is the truth.
“I’ll do a lot of things to make you happy, Fawn. If you want an apology, I’ll give you one. My pride or ego will never get in the way of our marriage.” Her face softens. I pick her up off the counter, carrying her into the sitting room. “Now tell me what I did wrong so I don’t do it again. I know I was angry yesterday.”