He leans down, lips at my ear. “Say it again.”
“Please, Roman. I want you.”
“That’s my girl,” he says in a low growl that makes my pussy clench.
He releases my wrists, but I keep them where they are, letting him do whatever he wants to me. He slides a hand between my thighs, fingers finding me wet and open and aching.
“God, you’re soaked,” he says, a grin splitting his face. “You ready for me?”
“Roman,” I whimper, every nerve ending on fire.
He lines himself up and pushes in slowly, watching my face the whole time. The stretch is intense, bordering on too much, but I want it. I want him to fill me, to remind me who I belong to, to remind me who I am.
When he’s fully inside me, he pauses, eyes locked on mine. “You okay?”
I nod, breathing hard. “Better than okay.”
He starts to move, rocking into me with long, deep strokes. Every thrust drives the breath from my lungs. I wrap my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his back, urging him to go harder, faster.
He does. He fucks me like he needs me more than air, more than life. Like the world will end if he slows down, even for a moment.
He moves my legs, pushing them up until my knees are nearly at my chest. The new angle has him hitting something inside me that makes me see stars. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, but Roman sees and grins.
“Let go, Sunshine,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead. “Let me hear you.”
I do. I let go of every last bit of control, every last bit of pride. I sob his name, begging, cursing, pleading for more. He gives it to me, picking up the pace until all I can do is hang on and ride the wave.
“Roman, I’m—oh God—” I can feel it building, pressure coiling low in my belly, threatening to explode.
“I know,” he groans, his own control starting to slip. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby.”
His hand finds my clit, thumb circling in time with his thrusts. The pleasure is overwhelming, shattering. I come so hard I black out for a second, every muscle in my body seizing as I cry out his name.
He follows a heartbeat later, slamming into me one last time as he comes. He collapses on top of me, burying his face in my neck, breath hot and ragged.
We stay like that for a long time, tangled together, neither of us willing to move. When I finally catch my breath, I run my fingers through his hair, feeling the softness and the sweat.
Roman lifts his head to look at me. His eyes are softer now, the sharpness dulled by satisfaction. “You okay?” he asks, voice hoarse.
I smile, too spent to do anything else. “More than okay.”
He smiles back, genuine and unguarded. Rolling to the side, he pulls me with him so I’m curled against his chest. He covers us with the blanket and holds me tight, one hand splayed across my back, the other tangled in my hair.
For the first time in two years, I feel safe. I feel loved. I feel like I belong.
We don’t talk for a while, just lie together, breathing each other in. I listen to the steady thump of his heart, the rhythm grounding me, calming every nerve.
Eventually, Roman speaks. “I want you to know something,” he says, voice serious.
I lift my head to look at him. “What?”
He hesitates, as if searching for the right words. “I love you, Sunshine. And I want to do this right this time. No secrets. No bullshit. No lies. Just us.”
I close my eyes, letting his words wash over me. “I love you too. And I want that more than anything.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering there.
We fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading into nothing. When I wake hours later, Roman is still holding me. The sun is just starting to rise, painting the walls in gold and pink.