Lethal

by Ava Kendrick

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

  I frowned, unable to believe what I was hearing. “Why? What the fuck, Roman? We had a great night tonight. We both clearly wanted… that,” I motioned back to the shutter.

  I bit my lip and watched him, wondering why in the hell I was standing there on a cold night, trying to understand why he’d push me away like that. But the thing was, it wasn’t that simple. He was capable of stirring up feelings and needs in me that I’d never even recognized before. And it wasn’t like I was a starry-eyed debutante either—I was twenty-eight-years-old. Not exactly a snow-bird, but old enough to know better.

  “Is this about my injuries again?” I demanded, hugging my arms around myself in an attempt to block out the cold.

  He shook his head, starting to speak and then stopping several times. “No. Yes… look Cleo. I told you about my fiancée. I swore I’d never get involved with anyone else again.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You said that was ten years ago. You seriously telling me you took some oath of celibacy at the age of twenty-three?”

  His eyes flashed. “Not celibacy, no. Hell, no.”

  I thought back to the night we met, when I’d decided he was going to be my no-strings fuck. He was clearly emotionally closed off—but did that matter? I’d just broken up with the guy I’d been living with. Was I even in the right headspace to consider another relationship?

  “What, you can’t fuck me because I might go weak at the knees and immediately fall in love with you, is that it?”

  A faint smile played at his lips. “Cleo. Will you—”

  I shook my head. “Answer me. You think you’re that irresistible?”

  “No,” he said slowly. “I just don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

  “What, like fucking me?”

  His eyes burned with heat and anger. He grabbed my wrists, holding them in a vice-like grip and pulling me to him. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t fight the lust that seared up through me from being controlled by him; big and hulking as he was. I scowled, doing my best to keep up the facade of anger.

  “I didn’t say that,” he growled. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  “Yeah well,” I sniffed, knowing I sounded like a teenager and not caring. I was irritated and aroused; angry and addicted. It wasn’t exactly the time and place for sensible, rational thought.

  “Yeah well nothing,” he said, tightening his hold on my wrists. “If you must know, it’s taking all the self-control I have not to lift you up and carry you up those stairs.”

  My breath left my body in a rapid hiss, like somebody had deflated me. I stared up at him, dumbfounded, waiting for him to finish what he’d been saying. I needed him to tell me. I didn’t say a thing, terrified that I’d ruin the moment.

  We stood facing each other down like that. How long for, I couldn’t say. He only had eyes for me; me for him. My anger and frustration were forgotten now. My pulse buzzed in my ears.

  It felt like it happened in slow motion. He slammed me back against the shutters again. My lips parted automatically as he bent his head. Then his lips were on mine; his hands protectively encircling my waist. I gasped. Who cared if it was a one-night thing? This was catnip for my soul. I had to have him, whatever the cost.

  “Stop,” I whispered, pushing at his chest.

  He growled and pulled back.

  “Can we go upstairs?” I murmured. “It’s kinda cold.”

  “I’ll warm you up.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think the cops would take too kindly to what I’ve got planned.”

  He was slack-jawed; his pupils dilated so wide I could barely see the blue in his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

  I nodded.

  I squealed as he lunged for me, sweeping me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing. He carried me up the steps to his building. I clung to him, out of breath and giggling. He groaned as he searched his pocket for his keys, and I realized he was as impatient for this as I was. Well, he’d already telegraphed that fact to me in another way—his erection pushed against my hips in a way that left nothing to my imagination. I couldn’t wait to get upstairs.

  “You’re going to carry me the entire way?” I asked, skeptically.

  I wasn’t the kind of chick that guys picked up. I never had been. In high school, that had been the cheerleaders; the petite girls whose lithe athletic frames weighed next to nothing. I’d never envied them that—I always thought it seemed pretty annoying. Now, though, I understood. Having this huge, strong alpha male just pick me up—it appealed to my inner cave woman in a way I couldn’t even attempt to explain.

  “Yup,” he nodded, pausing and staring up at me. Even though he was carrying me and my legs were wrapped around his butt, our faces were still almost level. He let go of one of my butt cheeks and reached up to stroke my hair away from my face.

  My first instinct was to panic—there was no way he could support my weight one-handed. But he did. Not only that, but he didn’t even seem fazed by it.

  I smiled up at him, nodding. “Get on with it then,” I smirked.

  With a grin, he growled and leaned his head forward, grazing my neck with his teeth. I cried out, not caring that we were in the hallway of his building, where anybody could have walked in on us.

  It felt like it took forever. I clung to him, my palms growing clammy from the adrenaline flowing through my body. He fumbled with the door to his apartment, and it was almost like I could feel the seconds pass away as I prayed he hadn’t brought the wrong key or something.

  But no, the door opened. I breathed a sigh of relief and he looked at me with his blue eyes. He broke eye contact within seconds. There wasn’t time to stand there like that and watch each other. He pushed the door open and we were halfway across the apartment before I realized that it was still wide open.

  “Door,” I murmured.

  “Fuck,” he growled, dropping to my feet and striding back to close it. He slammed it closed and twisted the deadlock. Then he turned to face me, a slow languorous movement that was completely out of sorts with our urgency from seconds earlier.

  His eyes lit up. “So. What is it you got planned?”

  I felt my cheeks redden. My earlier bravado was long gone now it was just the two of us alone in his apartment.

  I shrugged. “Surely you can use your imagination.”

  He took a couple steps in my direction, watching me all the time. “Oh, I can. I can think of ten ways I’d like to…” he stopped. “But I want to hear it from you.”

  My heart pounded in my chest. I bit my lip and unbuttoned my coat, impatiently pulling my arms out of the sleeves and throwing it on the couch. I took a step closer to him. My pulse sounded so loud to me that I wondered if he was able to hear it too.

  He shook his head, a slow smile playing at his lips. “This is gonna be slow,” he growled.

  I groaned in frustration, stepping even closer to him. I could feel the heat of his body now, mere inches from me.

  “But…” I whispered, trailing off as he closed the distance between us and reached his hands around my waist.

  He shook his head and bent to kiss me. It was gentle this time, nothing like the brusque passion I’d seen in him in the alley. But the passion was there alright. I could tell from the look in his eyes and the huge erection that was now clearly visible in his pants.

  Now, I was the one who wasn’t taking this gentle shit. I reached my arms around his neck, pulling his face down to meet mine; kissing him with the desperate need I felt in every cell in my body.

  “Cleo,” he whispered, pulling on my shoulders and effortlessly guiding me away.

  I widened my eyes as he stroked my cheek gently, like a man who had all the time in the world.

  “Roman,” I said, my voice sounding strangled and high.

  He raised an eyebrow inquisitively. I could tell he was enjoying this. But I was in no mood to play games now, even if they were the most pleasurable games imaginable. My need was b
aser.

  “Please,” I whispered.

  Usually it would have embarrassed me to state my need so plainly. But it didn’t now. I was past caring. I’d forgotten everything—the job interviews. The hunt for a new apartment. Hearing nothing from the cops about the burglary. It wasn’t like I could fall any lower. And then there was Roman. Tall, sexy Roman, who I wanted more desperately than I’d ever wanted anything.

  “I want you too,” he whispered, his fingers sliding down my neck and stroking my collarbone.

  I fidgeted as heat blazed inside me. I reached my arms around him, running my trembling fingers up and down the thick muscle of his back. I pushed against him, squeezing his butt, wondering how it was possible to be so ripped. I couldn’t wait any longer—I needed to see the body I’d been daydreaming about since the first time I saw him in Tully’s.

  He cursed as my fingers slid around, glancing off the huge, noticeable bulge in the front of his pants.

  “Dammit, Cleo. What part of slow don’t you understand?”

  “I can’t help it,” I pouted. “I can’t wait.”

  He unbuttoned my shirt slowly, pulling the thin fabric away from my shoulders when he was done. I gasped as he bent his head and trailed kisses down my neck to the tops of my breasts. It was too much—the soft, teasing kisses left me aching for more. I stepped out of his grasp and pulled my shirt off, throwing it on the couch.

  Usually, I felt self-conscious; especially the first time with a new guy. But this time… I was so blinded by my need for him that I didn’t give a damn about my too-round butt or the stubborn band of fat around my waist.

  His lips parted and it sent my body into even more of a frenzy to see the effect I was having on him. With my eyes rooted to his, I reached behind me and unhooked my bra, leaning forward and grinning at him as I slowly, ever-so-slowly pulled the lace fabric away from me and held my heavy breasts in my hands.

  His expression darkened. “Teaching me a lesson about restraint, are you?”

  I shook my head, feigning innocence. “Not at all. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  All hint of playfulness was gone from his expression now. He stepped forward, crowding me so I had no choice but to step backward, again and again until we’d reached the closed door to his bedroom.

  He seemed taller now. Darker. Dangerous. And my body was raging out of control.

  My core muscles clenched for him and he hadn’t even touched me yet. I leaned against the cold wood and slowly splayed my arms against the door, baring myself to him. He couldn’t take his eyes off me, yet he remained at a distance.

  “What are you waiting for?” I whispered.

  “Open the door.”

  I stood up straight and pulled on the handle, letting the door creak open behind me. I looked back up at him. His gaze was still fixed on me, like I was the only thing in his field of vision.

  “Take off your pants.”

  A frisson of excitement rushed through. I did as he ordered, feeling a rush as I let them drop to the floor and stepped out of the legs. All I wore were my panties now. He was still fully dressed.

  I stared up at him, my muscles already clenching out of control. It was the most delicious feeling I’d ever experienced. I couldn’t help but imagine how much more intense it would feel when he was buried deep inside me.

  He stepped forward like a predator then, grabbing my hips and pushing me backward into the room.

  I smiled, reaching up to push off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. He stopped my hands and held them tight before he pushed me down on the bed.

  I landed on the comforter with a slight bounce.

  His eyes had stayed riveted to my body the entire time. It was impossible not to notice. He still had that darkness in his eyes, like he had the capacity to devour me. I shivered and watched as he threw off his jacket and slowly began to unbutton his shirt.

  I gasped when I saw his chest. His thick muscles were covered with a smattering of wiry black hair. I leaned forward to get a closer look at the tattoo that covered his heart. It looked like some sort of family crest; I’d never seen anything like it before. But I couldn’t stay focused on that for long. Not when my body craved him.

  I didn’t need to touch myself to see that I was wet for him—I could tell by the way the cold air seemed to radiate to my core. Pressure was building within me. If he didn’t touch me soon, I knew, I’d cry out from longing.

  He threw his shirt aside, eyes never leaving my body.

  He leaned forward, naked from the waist up now. With a practiced movement, he slipped the tips of his fingers into the waistband of my panties and pulled them right off me, never once making contact with my skin. I moaned with disappointment.

  He shook his head. “I told you.”

  I bit my lip. I knew nothing I was going to say was going to hurry him up, and I hated him for it. I could tell from his face that it was killing him to hold off. It wasn’t that he didn’t want me—it was the control he was capable of exercising over his own body.

  Right then, I was a prisoner of my desire. I was pretty sure I would have done anything he’d asked if it meant he’d fuck me.

  “How can you be so controlled?” I muttered.

  He shrugged, kneeling on the edge of the bed and running his hands slowly up my calves. He stopped when he reached the middle of my thighs and it was all I could do not to reach forward and grab his hands and force them upwards.

  My clit was aching now; ceaseless. I held my breath as he stood again, fearing he was going to find some new way of driving me crazy. But he wasn’t; to my relief he was standing up to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his pants. They dropped to the floor, revealing thick thighs bulging with powerful muscle. And there was no mistaking his arousal now.

  I sat forward, reaching for him. But he shook his head and pushed me back down.

  Slowly, so damn slowly, he knelt on the edge of the bed between my feet. I held my breath as he bent to kiss my thigh. I cried out as the different sensations registered in my brain. He moved up my leg with the same deliberate slowness, alternatively licking, biting and sucking the delicate skin. My brain was a frazzled mess just thinking about what was to come next.

  When he reached the top of my leg, I felt a vibration against my skin as he laughed and moved all the way back down to the same starting place on my other thigh.

  I was an incoherent mess by that stage, writhing and groaning on the comforter. I was addicted. I was mad as hell at him for teasing me, but I stayed there rooted to that bed. It was simple—if his mouth on my thighs was capable of making my body react like that, what the hell was it going to do when he reached my core?

  For once I wasn’t worrying about my cellulite or trying to remember the last time I’d shaved. I just didn’t care. All I cared about was his body on mine and the whirlwind I knew was about to come.

  He changed speeds, taking me completely by surprise and making me cry out suddenly and desperately.

  I had no warning—his tongue just seemed to land on my clit, lapping away as he clamped a huge hand on either thigh to keep me from moving away. The sudden, rough sensation was electrifying, especially since he’d lulled me into a false sense that this was going to be steady and slow.

  I cried out in protest as I felt his tongue explore my folds and even push inside me. I almost died from the surprise and the huge wall of pressure that suddenly built in my body. But now he was back to slow, rhythmic movements. I buried my fingers in his hair. I wanted to grab him. I was a madwoman. All I wanted was an end to the pressure I couldn’t even stand anymore.

  “Please. Do what you were doing.”

  He turned his head up to face me. I could tell from his eyes that he was grinning.

  My toes clenched uncontrollably as he moved his attention back to my painfully swollen bud. I grabbed handfuls of the comforter as he sent me to places nobody else ever had. My pelvis pooled with warmth and my muscles already ached from the incessant clenching and squeezing
.

  I sobbed as he increased the pressure; I was completely lost to him now. One of his hands left my hip and I felt him push a finger inside me, exploring the sensitive skin of my entrance as he drew circles on my clit with his tongue.

  “Please, Roman,” I moaned, writhing against him as white-hot heat seared through me and I felt the most immense relief wash over me.

  I stopped moving, my exhausted body barely capable of any more movement.

  He grinned, easing himself up to nuzzle my belly with his lips. “Do you always scream like that?”

  I was too exhausted to feel embarrassed. It would have been hypocritical anyway—how could I feel shy around him when he’d seen every inch of me and so obviously been aroused by what I’d always thought was a pretty repulsive sight. I just shrugged.

  He eased himself up over me on strong arms, kissing my neck.

  “I’m just getting started,” he murmured.

  Those simple words were enough to set my body buzzing again, even though I’d believed just moments before that every reserve of energy I possessed was spent. I pushed against his shoulders—he moved with me, retreating back until his butt was resting on his heels and I was sitting upright, with my hands still pushing against his strong chest.

  I reached for the waistband of his shorts and pulled them downward impatiently. He leaned forward to help me just as the band eased over his hips. His erection sprung free, inches from my face. I’d been prepared for his size, but nothing could have prepared me for that. I watched in astonishment as my trembling hand reached for him. It’s not like I had small hands or anything, but there was no way my fingers were closing around him.

  I felt a throbbing deep inside, so intense it was more like an ache. I lowered my head, taking the tip of him in my mouth even though all I wanted to do was pull him on top of me and ease that massive cock inside me. My body was crying for him.

  And he must have sensed it. He pushed me gently until I eased him out of my mouth. Then he pushed me back hard against the bed.

  “I thought we were taking it slow.” I had no desire to do that—I never had—but I couldn’t help but tease him about it now.