The Agreement (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 1)

by Bethany-Kris

The moon, silvery and bright against the sky’s black backdrop, somehow seemed to hang lower and closer to her room. Those curtains in the doorway, white in the shadows, rose and fell in the soft breeze, urging Roman toward them. French doors had been left wide open—like an invitation.

  She expected him.

  Made it easy.

  Hell, he appreciated that, and a woman who knew what she wanted. If it hadn’t already been obvious to him, it certainly was now.

  The curtains in the doorway brushed along Roman gently—like a soft hug—when he was close enough to the billowing fabric. He didn’t linger long between the flapping folds before he stepped just beyond the threshold. Doing so allowed him a good view inside the room.

  And Karine.

  Standing right there.

  Waiting.

  Wearing nothing but a white, silk nightdress with lace trim that reached her mid-thigh, Karine stared back at him with wide, bright eyes. A pleased smile pulled at the corners of her sensual mouth, but then it widened into something sweeter. Almost instantly.

  Roman would be a fucking liar to say it didn’t do something to him to know she was happy to see him.

  “I knew you would come,” she said in a whisper.

  He thought, speaking to herself.

  Roman replied anyway, though he didn’t think her words had been meant for him. “I’m glad you have more faith in me than I have in myself.”

  Her forwardness took him by surprise when she reached for him, grabbing his hands in her own, and pulling him deeper into the bedroom. All without saying a thing. Two bedside lamps lit the room, and nothing else. It wasn’t sufficient for him to clearly see the space, but the moonlight spilling in behind them illuminated Karine in a silvery glow.

  On another night, if he were there for a different reason and not at her invitation, he might have thought it made her look angelic. Considering the growing need clawing its way through his bloodstream at the way she kept watching him, though, well ... he couldn’t find anything innocent about this.

  And he didn’t mind.

  With the doors of the veranda still open, the cool breeze filtering in through the room calmed Roman. Not a lot, of course, but enough to soothe the heat traveling over his body with every squeeze of Karine’s hands inside his.

  Her touch excited him like no other. Worse, it only made him want her more.

  That was dangerous.

  So far in his life, women made him feel a lot of predictable things. None of which he found worthy enough to risk his life, even if it was a good time in the end. Women rarely affected him beyond the usual lust and need for relief.

  Karine wasn’t quite the same.

  He had a desire to taste her—but not with just a kiss. What would her sounds be like when she came for him? Hard, and then harder. Would she take her pleasure from him, or let him give it? Again and again, the thoughts and fantasies filled his mind until it was all he could see. Already, although she did nothing more than stare at him and hold his hand, he could hear his name on her lips.

  Breathy, and begging.

  Roman wanted to see her toes curl when he was inside her. Stretching out her pussy, and filling her full of him. Would she ask him to take her ass, too?

  Goddamn.

  He wouldn’t refuse.

  His mind even conjured up the picture of her on her knees, taking every last drop of him down her throat until he had had his fill of her completely. Before he’d even got her naked, Roman had already mentally taken her every single way he wanted.

  It was crazy.

  Completely.

  Despite the boldness she had shown, Karines gaze shied away from him. Just long enough for him to notice, and hesitate.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. We don’t have to—”

  “No, it’s not that.”

  The assurance rushed out of Karine’s mouth before Roman could even finish his own sentence. She couldn’t possibly know how painful it was for him to say those words. He was positive that if he didn’t have her tonight, in all the ways he’d imagined, he might explode. Except he also wasn’t a monster.

  He’d never been the type to find pleasure in someone else’s pain. There was a thin line between the two, sure, but he wouldn’t push her. A sense of fragility clung all around her. He found it staring back in her blue gaze.

  She had a soul that craved something—the feeling was visceral to him, so real—was she searching for it in him? He definitely wasn’t the man who could provide it. He didn’t even know how to care for himself.

  “Then, what is it?” Roman asked, settling on the words that seemed right. Not that he could say why—it felt better than anything else he wanted to say, though. Didn’t that count for something?

  Karine’s fingers tightened around his as she said softly, “It’s nothing.”

  He didn’t believe that.

  Roman wondered if she was thinking the same thing as him. If he took her now, what would happen to her tomorrow? That diamond ring should be on her finger—there it was, bare. Where was it?

  She’d taken it off, and didn’t even bother to hide her naked finger from his pointed stare. Clearly, she didn’t want any reminders of Dima tonight.

  That should have bothered him. Or at the very least, given him some sense of guilt about the situation they found themselves in together.

  Except it didn’t.

  At all.

  The only thing he thought about the missing engagement ring?

  Good.

  Roman didn’t care to indulge the jealous side of his nature, nor did he intend to admit he felt it in the first place. He didn’t own this woman—she wasn’t his. There wasn’t room for his possessiveness here regarding someone who wasn’t even his.

  Yet, there it was.

  Burning in his heart.

  All because of a missing fucking ring. Yeah. There was no way he was going to poke that monster and wake it up more than it already was. Hadn’t he played with fire enough without adding feelings to the mix as well?

  Roman sure as shit thought so.

  Apparently, his silence didn’t settle well with her because the next words out of Karine’s mouth were sharp, and they stung. “I know what I want. Do you think I’m just a silly girl? That I don’t know what I’m doing here?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  Karine’s brow dipped as she regarded him quietly before asking, “Then, what are you saying—or, aren’t saying?”

  He figured, if she could ask, then she should know. “That you may have changed your mind about this, and if you have, that’s fine. I’ll leave now—if you want me to. Say the word, babe.”

  She pulled her hands away from him as if she’d been burned, her nostrils flaring with indignation, and even though it was dimly lit, he saw the color pink her cheeks. The very fact that she was offended because she thought he implied she didn’t know her own mind said all he needed to know.

  It still wasn’t enough for Karine.

  She wanted to make it clear, it seemed.

  Very much so.

  Instead of saying anything back to him, she simply slipped the straps of her nightdress over her shoulders. They fell down her arms, dragging the rest of the thin material with them until it fell beyond her pale, full breasts.

  She stood with her chest on display, tipping her chin up at him almost defiantly. Still, she said nothing.

  Fuck.

  He’d probably seen hundreds of tits in his lifetime—fake and real—and somehow, the sight of Karine’s bare torso made it hard to breathe. He struggled to keep his gaze from wandering, or worse, from physically reaching out and allowing himself to pull the nightdress down the rest of the way. It was like he had never seen a naked woman before.

  Or maybe it was just because she was so beautiful. And even more so when she stared at him like she was willing him to deny that fact.

  He wouldn’t.

  God.

  He couldn’t.

  “Y
ou don’t want to see me?” she asked in a low whisper, the words still feeling like a slap to his skin all the same.

  It wasn't always what someone said, but how they said it that had the right impact. He wasn’t even sure she knew the effect of her words on him in that moment.

  Roman took a step closer to her, his heart slamming beneath his rib cage because, no. Hell no, he didn’t want her to stop.

  “No, I want to see all of you,” he murmured. “Every inch—spread you wide. I’ve been dreaming about it. Too much, if I’m honest.”

  A faint smile curved her pink lips, and she pushed the nightdress down over her hips without hesitation. It fell to the floor, pooling around her ankles before she stepped out of it. Closer—again—to him.

  No panties, he noticed. And the triangle patch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs was trimmed short.

  She was prepared.

  Waiting for him.

  Fully naked in front of him, the moon shone like a spotlight on the soft curves of her slender body. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, taking in the way her dark straight hair fell like a curtain covering her shoulders but wasn’t quite long enough to hide the way her nipples had hardened into peaks standing like she did with the breeze still light in the room. With her arms at her sides, legs spread a little apart, she didn’t look ashamed to put herself on display for him.

  “My turn,” he said, smirking just a little.

  It only seemed fair.

  Roman’s hands flitted over his belt, pulling it out from the loops in his slacks with a woosh, and tossing it aside to the floor. Then, his pants came off. His shirt soon followed. All of the clothing made a forgotten pile on the floor because as soon as they were off his body, he didn’t care. Mostly because she hadn’t stopped staring at him, and with each article of clothing he removed, her eyes grew wider until they were big, blue saucers locked lower on his body.

  On his cock, actually.

  Already hard beneath his boxer-briefs, there was no hiding the thick ridge of his dick clearly visible against the white fabric. His thumbs hooked around the waistband on the last piece of clothing before he started to tug it down.

  Her throat jumped with a swallow.

  Roman arched a brow at the sight. She had to have done this before—there was no way the woman was a virgin. He didn’t know one to be as bold as she had been in her demand for him to join her for the night, after all.

  Still, it was enough for him to pause.

  Only long enough to ask, “Karine, have you done this before?”

  Not that he wanted to ask, but the better part of his judgement pushed the words out of his mind before he could really stop them. His cock throbbed painfully between his muscular thighs, the waistband of the boxer-briefs biting into the tender, swollen flesh at the base where he held it, not yet ready to drop the clothing completely.

  There was only one thing he really wanted to do right then—be inside her. Except he had never been a gentleman before, but here he was, trying. Even if it was only by asking questions. It was the best he could do.

  “Karine.”

  She still didn’t—or wouldn’t—answer, instead opting to look away from him, her expression darkening.

  “I never said I was offering my history for this,” she muttered.

  Roman nodded, saying only, “Fair enough.”

  That was fine. She didn’t have to answer his question. He was going to take her however she wanted.

  As long as she asked for it.

  Roman couldn’t remember a time when he had wanted someone this much—so much, that the need he felt thrummed deep in his bones, and made the blood thicken in his veins. Every breath she took was measured while she watched him, waiting for something he didn’t know; each one left him a little hotter. It was a show of the self-control he liked to say he didn’t have if there ever was one.

  Seemed he was a liar.

  Because it took everything in him to stand there, and let her look. All the while, those nerves that had shown in her wide eyes and jumping swallows were starting to fade. Instead, he found lust reflecting back the next time her eyes met his. He could touch her, pull her tight to him, and it was enough to drive him insane.

  But he didn’t.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked.

  “For you to say the word—ask or tell me.”

  Karine wet her lower lip slowly. The action was enough to make Roman clear his throat when a lump formed there from the tightening of his stomach. Christ. Every little thing she did was mesmerizing to him.

  And he didn’t even know why.

  “Those words?” Karine questioned.

  Roman nodded, stepping closer to hook a finger under her chin so he could tip her face up toward his. For a reason he couldn’t understand, she forced her stare away from him again. A part of him wanted to ask why, but he doubted she wanted him to. Instead, he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

  “You don’t know how beautiful you are, and that’s a fucking shame,” he said, finally urging her attention back on him. Only now, there was a different gleam in her eyes. The vulnerability hadn’t left, but he found that same daring, unafraid woman that kissed him in an alley and approached him with an invitation to join her bed.

  He could handle her fragility.

  As long as she knew what she wanted, too.

  “Please,” she said, the word so soft he strained to hear. “This is what I want.”

  And that was all he needed.

  Roman pressed his lips to her warm forehead, the silkiness of her skin only a tease for what was to come. He bet the rest of her would feel even better against his mouth, and wrapped around his dick. Her hands found his shoulders before she turned her face up so he could take her mouth in his for a kiss.

  His tongue pushed beyond her parted lips, darting past hers that flicked against his for a quick taste. And then she sucked on the tip of his tongue when he almost dared to pull back. Her light purr while he kissed her vibrated straight through his fucking chest.

  That sound was pleasure, and sin.

  Perfection.

  Roman’s sense of gentleness fled the second Karine decided to take what she wanted by slipping her hands beneath the slightly lowered waistline of his boxer-briefs. The tight fist she made around his hard cock, stroking his tip fast, had the air catching in his throat.

  “I’m not glass,” she breathed against his mouth. “I promise not to break.”

  Roman nodded, still breathless. “Good to know.”

  He couldn’t be gentle anymore, that patience and good will of his was gone. He wanted to go hard—possess her, even, if she would let him.

  His hands moved down her body until he gripped a palmful of her ass. Round, and pert, he cupped and kneaded the flesh until her air came a little harder, and she whimpered against his cheek where her kiss had come to rest. She helped to shove his boxer-briefs down, and he let her, stepping out of them only once they’d fallen down to the floor below.

  Roman could have taken more time to appreciate the curve and softness of her ass in his hands, but the grin she leveled on him had his mind going elsewhere. She stood up on tiptoes to kiss him once, and then twice. Quick and fleeting, it wasn’t nearly enough, but he was fast to get more when he gripped her thighs, and pulled her up from the floor into his arms.

  They fit together like a glove—like puzzle pieces, really. Her hands found his jaw, her fingernails scraping along his beard as he stole another kiss from her, refusing to give even an inch as the need for air burned in his lungs. His cock dug into her thigh while her breathy sighs were swallowed by his lips and tongue. Every single one she made, he wanted to taste.

  Each one she made, he owned.

  His mouth moved over her trembling chin, down her neck, and then he licked the soft fleshiness of her earlobe. Her giggle melted into a low, sexy moan when his teeth nipped into the spot behind her ear.

  It was that sound coming out of her mouth that spurred him forward.
Roman carried her to the edge of the four-poster bed, tossing her down to the sheets where he could watch as her perfect body laid bare.

  Ready for him.

  Open to him.

  “God, look at you,” he uttered.

  Karine’s shyness was long gone as a wicked smile played at the edges of her lips. She was all woman—one that tempted him more than he was willing to admit. On the bed with her hair spread around her face like a halo, she winked while she grabbed her breasts in both hands and squeezed.

  She stretched herself along the bed for him, widening her legs until he salivated at the sight of her cunt on display for him. The sliver of wet, pink flesh was just one piece of the perfection that made up the creature below him. Her narrow waist melded into hips meant for riding a man, and he could already feel those legs of hers wrapped around him while he held her down.

  Roman couldn’t resist it any longer. He wanted to know if his fantasies were as good as the real thing—there was only one way to find that out.

  Karine seemed to read his mind, murmuring, “Come on, then. Fuck me.”

  What else did he need?

  Nothing.

  Roman grabbed her thighs, yanking her back to the edge of the bed and pushing her thighs wide apart until he felt her muscles shake. Widening her thighs opened her sex for him, too, pink and fleshly and soaked.

  Already, she was wet.

  He used the tip of his thumb to drag that wetness at her slit over the lips of her sex, spreading them apart as she trembled underneath him. Every soft oh and please at his soft touches while he felt her pussy tighten against the pressure of his thumb against her entrance had him dragging in hard breath after breath.

  And then he replaced his thumb with the head of his cock—throbbing, growing harder, he was so close to getting what he wanted. Yet, he still held back. The tip of his cock swept through her slit, from the wet, clenching tightness of her slit to her swollen clit that he’d just been teasing with his thumb.

  Hot against the bare skin of his dick, Roman told her, “Sorry—it’s going to have to be raw.”

  He hadn’t come there expecting to fuck—it wasn’t like he had time to plan ahead for this. It was what it was, and it wasn’t a careless mistake he’d made very often before. But he would tonight.