"Then come on my tongue, Mila," he growls. "I want this pussy drenched when I'm balls deep inside it again." He lunges, attacking my pussy like it's the best damn meal he's ever tasted. He growls and groans, curses and pants, fucking me with his tongue until I'm screaming.
Orgasm viciously rips me apart. My body arches and contorts, fire burning through me as the world flashes to black and then to white and then to riotous color behind my eyelids. Blood rushes in my ears in a roar of sound, so loud I can't make out whatever Roman is saying as he eats me, not letting up until I fall limp beneath him.
As soon as I do, he picks me up and wraps my legs around his hips, holding me in his lap.
"Careful, baby, careful," he croons, holding me steady when I pitch forward, my head landing against his chest. He waits until he's sure I'm steady and then presses a sweet kiss to my ear. "You okay like this?"
"Yes," I breathe into his throat, still moaning through aftershocks.
"Good." His fingers dig into my ass cheeks as he lifts me up until I hover over the broad head of his cock. "This is going to be hard and fast, baby. Hang on to me."
I barely manage to fling my arms around his neck before he drops me down on him, impaling me in one hard thrust. We cry out together, my inner walls rippling up and down his cock as another powerful aftershock blasts through me.
"Fucking Christ," he groans, the words seemingly ripped from somewhere deep inside his chest. His head falls back, my name leaving his lips on another loud groan. He holds me down on him for a long moment, and I know he's reveling in this moment as much as I am. I'm so full of him. He's wrapped around me as tightly as he can be, my belly pressed to his rock hard abdomen. My breasts scrape against his chest. "So goddamn good, Mila. So good."
I moan my agreement, unable to find words.
He wraps one hand around my hair and tugs my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes are dilated and wild with desire. "Eyes on me," he orders me and then waits for me to nod my understanding before he releases my hair, wrapping both hands around my hips. "Don't close them."
I try to agree with him, but all that comes out is a needy whimper.
His eyes stay locked on mine as he picks me up and drops me down on his length, bucking his hips beneath me to send him deeper. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, a savage growl vibrating in his chest. Just like he promised, he fucks me hard and fast, grunting each time he bottoms out, his balls slapping against my ass.
It's primal, filthy…and so fucking good. God, it hurts in the best way possible.
I scratch and claw at his shoulders, his name leaving my lips again and again as he rages like a force of nature beneath me. I keep my eyes locked on his the entire time, watching as a parade of emotions roll through the piercing blue irises that see all the way to my soul. Somehow, despite the fact that he's fucking me like a man possessed, he's making love to me too. I feel him everywhere…in my head, in my heart, in that deep down place only he has ever touched. The one that was created for him, that belongs to him and him alone.
"You consume me," he pants, his eyes half-mast and sweat dripping down his face. "Every minute of every day, I ache for you. I need you. I can't live without you."
"Roman," I plead as my belly quickens, a powerful orgasm blooming.
"You think I don't know, baby?" He chuckles, the sound dark and delicious. "You think I don't feel it? I know, Mila. I know every fucking thing about you. I know when you're happy, when you're sad. I know when you're ready to fall apart…and when you're ready to explode." He growls a loud curse, his fingertips digging into my ass so hard I know they're going to leave marks. "I feel you all the way to my goddamn soul, baby."
"Please," I sob, clawing at his shoulders, fighting against the overwhelming urge to squeeze my eyes closed and let go. But I won't, not until he gives me permission. "Please."
"I'm going to fuck my way into your soul, Mila," he growls. "Possess you like you possess me. Own you like you own me."
"Please!" I scream, desperation ripping me apart.
"You want it, baby? Want me to possess you?"
"Yes! Please, yes." God, he could ask me for anything, demand anything, and I'd give it, freely, willingly. I would kill for this man, sell my soul for him. Anything he wants, and he knows it. But still he demands more, more, more…and God help me, I'll give it to him. I'll give him everything.
One big finger slips into my asshole, making me scream until my throat aches.
"Come," he roars, his eyes wild and savage…and God, it's beautiful. He's beautiful. "Give it to me. Right now."
I let go, screaming soundlessly. Tears leak from my eyes. My body convulses atop his. My heart stops beating for one long, painfully perfect moment. And then the wire snaps, and I come harder than I ever have before. So hard that everything goes completely black except for him and those eyes. Those wicked, gorgeous eyes.
I hand my soul over to him, willingly, thankfully, without reservation.
He does the same, roaring as he breaks me wide open…and then fills me full of him.
Chapter Fifteen
Roman
"Baby," I whisper reverently, pressing adoring kisses all over Mila's face as she comes down, shaking in my arms. She's drenched in sweat, her hair a damp mess. Tears leak from the corners of her eyes and little whimpers puff from her lips on shaky exhales.
Sex with Mila is always incredible, but that was…Christ, that was an otherworldly experience. I've never come so hard. My balls ache. My dick is raw.
It's the most incredible feeling.
"I love you." I press the words into her skin—her cheeks, her temple, her sweaty hair. I hum it against her throat and the shell of her ear. Over and over, I tell her how much I love her. I can't stop telling her. This woman…God, this woman. She's everything.
"Mm," she mumbles, her body limp atop mine. "Roman."
I run my hands down her back, touching her everywhere I can reach as she slowly comes back to herself.
"Thank you, baby. Thank you. Christ, I love you." My lips drift over the scar Guerrero left on her body. I can't seem to stop running reverent hands all over her curvy body any more than I can stop telling her how much I love her, how perfect she is…how incredible that was. I meant to take it slow and easy, to love her gently, but there is nothing gentle about the way I crave her. It's exactly as consuming as I told her it is. All I think about is her—her happiness, being inside her, spoiling her, worshipping her.
I never knew I could feel this way. Never thought it was possible to be this goddamn happy in the midst of chaos. But I am. Because of her. Because, despite everything, she gives me peace. She thinks Santa Cruz is my happy place, but she's wrong. She's my happy place. Moments like this, with her limp in my arms with my come dripping down her legs…this is where I'm at peace. Where I'm still and quiet. Where nothing intrudes or threatens us. This is heaven.
"Come on, sweetheart," I murmur, wrapping my arms around her and rising to my feet. My legs shake beneath me, and for a second I worry they aren't going to hold. But of course they do. There's no way in hell I'm going to drop the most precious thing in the world to me. That'll never happen.
She's completely limp in my arms as I carry her toward the bathroom.
"Hold on for me, Mila," I murmur, steadying her on the counter when she wobbles, her head drooping. She's so goddamn sweet after she comes. So sleepy. She's like a sated little kitten, all played out and cuddly. "Just for a minute, baby," I say with a soft chuckle when she huffs and tips forward to lay her head against my chest. "I need to get the water going so I can clean you up."
"No," she pouts.
I chuckle again and then wait until she reluctantly steadies herself. Once I'm sure she won't fall, I quickly cross to the giant tub and get it started, dropping in one of those ridiculous bath bombs she loves so much—the ones that make the water fizz and turn purple. Lavender and vanilla waft through the room as the water steams and the bath bomb rapidly dissolves.
> I cross back to the vanity and pick Mila up, pressing a kiss to her temple as I carry her to the tub and climb in. She sprawls across me, her head on my shoulder and her soft body cuddled against mine. Her eyes are closed, her sooty lashes resting against her flushed cheeks. She's so damn sweet.
Yeah, this is definitely my happy place. Right here with her in my arms. I could die happy here.
I lean back against the tub and close my eyes, content to simply hold her as the water steams around us. My mind drifts, peace flowing through me in powerful waves. I revel in it, floating in euphoria as everything but the feel of her soft body atop mine and the hot water disappears.
"Roman," Mila mumbles, shaking me.
I jerk upright, sloshing water over the sides of the tub. The thing is so full, the water laps at the rim, in danger of pouring over into the floor. I tighten my grip on her and lean forward to quickly turn the water off before it overflows.
"I think I fell asleep," I mutter in apology.
"It's okay, but my phone is ringing."
As soon as she says it, I hear it beeping from the other room.
"Someone has been calling for the last five minutes," she says, rubbing her eyes like she fell asleep too.
"Fuck. Slide over, baby."
Mila slides off my lap, allowing me to climb to my feet. Water sluices off me. I quickly step out onto the bathmat, grab a towel and wrap it around my hips. Her phone stops ringing and immediately starts again. Worry for Talia shoots through me. She's the only one I can think of who would call Mila over and over.
I hurry to the bedroom, grabbing her phone off the nightstand.
"What the fuck?" I growl, my eyes narrowing when I see Luke's name on the screen. Possessiveness roars through me, overriding the little voice of reason in the back of my head telling me he isn't calling Mila for the hell of it. "Luke? Why are you calling my fiancée?"
"Thank fuck," he says instead of answering my question, his grim voice full of relief. "I need you to get here, man. It's bad."
"Get where? What's going on?" Even as I snap those questions, I'm whipping the towel off and striding toward the closet at a quick clip, his tone setting my teeth on edge. Something is seriously wrong. "Why are you calling me on Mila's phone?"
"Tried calling yours," he growls. "It's off."
"Fuck. I forgot to charge it. What's going on? Is it Remi?"
"Curtis Kaleo broke into January's house," Luke says. "He's dead."
"Jesus fucking Christ," I breathe, stunned. My feet stop moving, shock waving through me. I knew Kaleo wasn't particularly bright, but I never thought he'd be stupid enough to go after January himself. He's lucky Kincaid didn't tear him apart piece by piece before killing him. It's what I would have done.
"Roman…fuck, man. I don't know exactly what happened, but it looks like Kaleo shot her. She's in bad shape."
"How bad?" My heart clenches.
"Kincaid wouldn't let me get anywhere close to her," he says, his tone grim. "But she lost a lot of blood. I don't think she was breathing when the paramedics got to her."
"How is he?" I ask, ripping the closet door open and hitting the lights. Urgency beats at me, demanding I hurry the fuck up and get there. Before Kincaid loses everything that matters to him. I'm the reason he's back here. I sent him after Kaleo. If January dies…that's on me.
I need to get there.
"I don't… He wouldn't let anyone touch her except the paramedics. He kept saying it was supposed to be him. He's on the way to the hospital, but he's fucked up." Luke hesitates, clearly torn. "If she dies…"
"Fuck, I know."
"What do you need me to do?" he asks, not judging. And this is why I trust Luke more than anyone else. Because he gets it. When it comes to those who need protecting, he doesn't ask questions, hesitate, or cast judgments. He just does what needs to be done.
"Meet me at the hospital," I tell him, ripping a pair of jeans off the hanger. My mind races ahead of me, thinking things through and making plans. "Don't let LAPD get there before you do, Luke. He's liable to lose it on them if they try to take him in. He lives for that girl. He won't want to leave her, not for any reason. If LAPD tries to take him, I don't know what he'll do, but it'll be bad," I say, though I'm not sure what I'm going to do if they insist on taking him in for questioning. We can't afford to alienate LAPD, but Kincaid is one of ours. They aren't taking him until he's ready to go. "What hospital is she going to?"
"Good Samaritan."
"I'm on my way." I disconnect and dial Finn, cursing as I try to yank my jeans on and juggle the phone at the same time. I damn near face plant into the island set up in the middle of the closet for all of Mila's jewelry.
"Is everything okay?" she asks, coming up behind me.
"No. January's been shot."
"Oh my god," she whispers, her voice strangled.
I huff a curse, guilt pinging through me. I shouldn't have told her like that, but before I can turn to check on her, Finn answers his phone, sounding like I woke him up. I don't even know what time it is. Midnight? Later?
"I need you to get to Kincaid's now," I tell him, yanking my jeans on over my hips. "Kaleo shot January."
"Jesus Christ," he says, coming wide awake.
"Here." Mila thrusts a shirt in my direction. She grabs another one and slides it on over her head before grabbing my badge and gun off the island and holding them out for me.
"Thank you," I mouth, pulling the shirt on as quickly as possible before taking my badge and gun from her. "Kincaid is on the way to the hospital with her, but Kaleo's dead. I need you to get there and find out what the fuck happened."
"I'm on my way," he promises. "How is she?"
"Not good. Luke says she wasn't breathing when they loaded her in the ambulance."
"Jesus," he whispers. "Kincaid is going to lose his goddamn mind."
"I know," I grit out, dropping the chain for my badge around my neck and then attaching my holster to my waistband. By the time I'm finished, Mila is dropping my shoes at my feet. I don't even bother with socks, instead shoving my feet in bare. "I'm on the way to the hospital, so is Luke."
"Yeah, fuck. I'll meet you there as soon as I deal with the scene."
"Can you call Knox and get him over here to sit with Mila and Faith? Octavio is going to be called in too if he hasn't already been." I don't even have time to worry about how Faith is going to deal with Knox, who she's never met. We don't really have another choice. Kaleo's dead, January's been shot. Right now, that crisis trumps everything else. For all of us.
"Yep, already on it. Keep me advised. I'll do the same."
I disconnect and spin to face Mila.
She's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes wide and watery in her pale face. "Faith and I will be okay, Roman," she says. Her voice shakes with emotion. "Just go take care of Michael and January."
I drag her into my arms and bury my face in her damp hair, breathing in her sweet scent in ragged pulls of air. This shit hits way too close to home. Memories of Mila bleeding in the sand after Guerrero shot her bubble to the surface, rattling me. I hold her for a long moment, reminding myself that she's right here with me and she's safe. It isn't my world being ripped apart this time…it's Kincaid's.
Please let January be okay. Don't let her die, I pray with everything in me because I already know if she dies, there's not a goddamn thing in the world I'm going to be able to do to stop Kincaid from tearing this city apart. There isn't a fucking thing I'll be able to do to keep him breathing either. He'll find a way to follow behind her. I know he will…because I would have done the same fucking thing had Guerrero killed Mila.
"What the fuck happened?" Finn asks, dragging me out into the hall as soon as he arrives at the hospital. Kincaid is in a chair in the corner, staring at the floor. January's best friend, Mariah, is at his side. Luke sits at his other side, running interference. When Octavio arrived, Kincaid went for his throat and then fell the fuck apart. Octavio backed off, but I don
't trust that anyone else from LAPD won't try to question him right now, and that's the last thing he needs. He's already in hell. He's covered in January's blood. His eyes are bleak, stark fear burning like fire in them.
"From what little he's said," I murmur, keeping my voice low so it doesn't carry, "Kaleo broke in while Kincaid was on the phone with her. By the time he got there, Kaleo had her at gunpoint. He convinced Kaleo to let her go and take him instead, but January got her gun and came back for him. Kaleo must have seen her because he shot her instead of Kincaid. She managed to get two shots off before collapsing." I shove a hand through my hair, still reeling over that fact. We all assumed Kincaid killed Kaleo, but it was January. I never saw that coming.
"Fucking Christ," Finn mutters, shaking his bald head. "Any word?"
"The doctor came out a little bit ago. The bullet pierced her kidney and adrenal gland. She's critical and they aren't sure if she's going to make it or not. What'd you find out at the scene? Jesus Christ," I mutter, grimacing as soon as the word scene leaves my lips like this is just another fucking day and another typical scene. "When did everything get so fucked up?"
Finn cocks a brow in question.
I shake my head, scrubbing my hand down my face. "None of this shit was supposed to happen. Tristan and Kincaid were supposed to help me find Elijah Noel and the drugs and end the gang war. Instead, one of ours kidnapped Lillian. Remi is still out there. Kaleo fucking shot January. Everything I touch, I seem to fuck up."
"Suck it up," Finn says. Despite his hard tone, he clasps a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "In case you've forgotten, this city was thrown into a gang war, and the enemy doesn't fight fair. They hit us where it hurts because they know it hurts. They know where we're vulnerable. You aren't responsible for what happened to Lillian. You aren't responsible for Remi. Hell, you aren't responsible for Kaleo or January, either. What you are responsible for is what you do about it. You can't fall apart on me now, Roman. We're too goddamn close to pulling this city back from the brink for you to lose it now."
Desire Me (Her Best Friend's Father Book 4) Page 23
