by Noree Kahika
Clearing my throat, I nodded again. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
My comment garnered a raised brow from Roman but he didn’t reply.
Seth, with my small suitcase in hand, followed closely behind as Roman ushered me into the suite. With minimal words spoken, he led me into a bedroom—which I assumed wasn’t Roman’s as the room was pristine with not a single personal item to be found. Then, just as quickly, Roman left me alone with an excuse of some work he needed to attend to.
Seth placed my bag at the foot of the large queen-sized bed before he silently left me alone in the room. Distractedly, I wondered where Seth was staying but then, deciding I was far too tired to think any more, period, I gathered up my toiletries and took a quick shower in the adjoining marbled bathroom. After I rinsed the shampoo from my hair, I leaned back against the cool marble tile to savor the heat of the water streaming over my skin and inhaled the aromatic smelling shower gel that was provided. A girl could get used to such luxurious amenities. After I unpacked, I threw on my mint-green cotton pajama pants and old worn UCLA t-shirt that was two sizes too big and brushed the tangles out from my long hair, choosing to leave it loose for bed, and then decided it was time to go exploring.
Roman’s hotel suite was almost as dazzling as his chateau in Bordeaux. The sitting room was decorated in an abundance of rich silks, damasks, and fabrics shaded in multiple intertwining colors of silver, gray, purple-plums, and eggplant. The eighteenth-century wood paneling that lined the walls reflected a polished regal gleam and, combined with the room’s lavish antique furnishings, the suite was the ideal picture of Parisian luxuriousness.
The breathtaking views from the floor-to-ceiling windows made Paris and its thousands of twinkling lights come to life. Sweet scented bouquets and elaborate floral arrangements adorned numerous glistening marbled-top and gold-gilded occasional tables, smelling like spring had sprung indoors. The enormity of the antique dining table with its seating for eight didn’t even come close to crowding the spacious apartment, with a formal lounge setting and several additional clusters of period chairs for casual seating.
I had the sudden urge to snap pictures of the suite and text them back to Courtney but I quickly squashed that idea just in case Roman came out of whatever room he was currently held up in and caught me.
A set of double polished mahogany doors with gold embossed handles were positioned to the left of the room and sat slightly ajar. I wondered whether that was the entrance to the master suite. The door to my bedroom was on the opposite side of the room, just off the dining room; the only other door leading to another room was next to mine and with its single door, I guessed it to be a study or another bathroom. Inhaling a deep breath for courage, I stepped toward the entrance of the mysterious room to investigate.
I gasped and covered my mouth in wonder, the sight before me unbelievably stunning and seriously too beautiful for words. The mysterious room was indeed the master suite and it was nothing short of astounding. The plush silver, gray, purple-plums, and eggplant color scheme was carried through from the sitting room with the addition of a soft romantic mauve to the freaking colossal bed that sat pride and center in the room. It was the biggest bed I had ever seen. My God, five grown adults could sleep in that bed and still not be touching one another.
A two-seater settee at the foot of the bed was adorned in mauve velvet and two plum leather winged-back chairs were by the gray-marbled fireplace along the left wall. Extensive views of the Eiffel Tower could be seen from the bank of tall French doors on the opposite side of the room. More bouquets of flowers including mauve roses and white orchids embellished the coffee and bedside tables.
Tentatively, I took a step and then another farther into what I figured was Roman’s room, gaping in disbelief once more when I saw the master bathroom. It was bigger than the room that I’d been given, and at least half the size of the master bedroom: all gleaming marble, gold-plated fixtures, a shower big enough for four, and a huge Jacuzzi to boot. The vanity held double marbled sinks and an embellished beveled mirror spanned the entirety of one wall. There was even a freaking bidet alongside the toilet. Thick, plush towels hung on gold-plated towel racks and even thicker bathrobes hung on the wall by the shower.
So this is the lifestyle of the rich and famous.
“See anything you like?”
“Shit!” I jumped, startled at the sound of Roman’s voice as it resonated off the marble close behind me.
“Ohmigod,” I breathed. My hand splayed over my chest in an effort to slow the racing of my heart. “You scared me half to death.”
He leaned against the doorjamb. His lazy gaze swept me from head to toe.
“Finished with work?” I waited for his eyes to return back to mine.
“Yes.”
“Oh, that’s good, I guess.” My fingers fidgeted restlessly with the hem of my t-shirt as a weighted silence stretched out between us.
“Yes it is,” he finally replied. His gaze continued their lazy perusal of my half-naked body, but this time around, his eyes darkened beyond their normal inky blue, until they were almost completely black, intense and hungry. Suppressing a moan, I watched spellbound as his tongue darted out and licked across the seam of his lips. And just as quickly, Roman broke the spell. He retreated from the room and strode purposefully over to a polished mahogany side table in the sitting room that displayed several crystal glass decanters filled with amber liquid and glassware. Following him at a small distance, I watched as he uncorked one of the crystal decanters. “Would you like a drink, Charlotte?”
“No, thank you.”
“Very well.” He poured himself a third. He took a long swig; the long, defined column of his throat undulated as he swallowed the liquid. My legs wobbled like jelly; heat infused my cheeks at the sight and the knowing smirk that played around the edge of Roman’s mouth when his gaze returned to me told me without a doubt he knew the effect he was having on me.
The jerk!
“So, do you often have to see to work at ten thirty at night?”
He considered the question, and a small frown appeared on his face. “Unfortunately yes.”
“Hmm…well, that kind of sucks.”
“Yes, it often does,” he said flatly.
I glanced nervously around the room, at a loss for anything else to say.
“Charlotte.” Roman brought my focus back to him.
“Yes?”
“I don’t wish to discuss my work anymore.” With slow, measured steps, he stalked toward me.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“Well…what would you like to talk about?”
He stopped in front of me and I had to crane my head back to look to him. The proximity of his body to mine caused my heartbeat to accelerate and I struggled to temper my breathing.
“Princess, talking to you about anything right now is the furthest thing from my mind.”
The low, husky tone to his voice sent a shiver down my spine and I stood frozen as those dark, inky eyes pinned me with their gaze.
“Oh—” I barely exhaled before Roman’s mouth was on mine. His tongue slid along the seam of my lips and pried entrance into my mouth. When I both moaned and shuddered, he growled. One hand slid down my back and squeezed my ass; his other hand glided up the center of my back, between my shoulder blades, and pressed firmly to haul me roughly against his hard body. The embrace was so primal and claiming, I couldn’t help moaning again into his mouth. As his tongue plunged deeper, I let go completely, melting further into his body, and lifted my hands to the base of his neck. My fingers threaded through the strands of his soft, silky hair. When another carnal growl rumbled up through his chest, I pressed my body even closer, tugging handfuls of his hair as my tongue fought his for control.
Tearing his mouth from mine, Roman lifted me; my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as my hands released his hair and gripped his shoulders. He strode with purpose toward the bedroom.
/> This was it. I was going to sleep with Roman Knight and truth be told, in that very moment, I couldn’t wait. I was primed—beyond primed. I had never felt so turned on by anyone or anything in my whole life.
Bending low, he put one knee to the bed to gently, almost reverently, lay me down on my back, and then covered my body with his much taller, powerful frame. Roman nipped playfully at my chin with his teeth before he brushed his lips softly against mine. But at that point, I didn’t want slow or gentle—I wanted hot and frenzied, like the kiss he’d given me. I threaded my fingers through the strands of his silky hair and urgently pulled his lips back to mine.
He chuckled and shook his head once before his hands went to the hem of my t-shirt and whoosh; he whipped it up and off my body in a second. I had no clue where the t-shirt went and nor did I care, because Roman took his own sweater off and I was captivated by the sight of his taut, rippled chest. The man was ripped, sporting a six-pack with a light dusting of dark hair across his chest and to my surprise, he had a…tattoo.
Dark inky eyes settled on my breasts with such blazing lust and wanton desire that I shivered. “God, you’re so tiny and exquisitely beautiful,” he breathed.
I swear my toes curled in response to the reverence in his tone.
Kneeling up, his hands moved deftly to the waistband of my pajama pants and, like my top, within seconds they were slid off my legs and gone.
One scorchingly hot palm trailed up from my waist, around over my belly and then up my chest to rest at the base of my throat. His gaze followed the movement. “Fuck, but you’re beautiful, Princess.”
“Roman.” I reached forward to caress one side of his cheek with the tips of my fingers. Perhaps slow and gentle was the way to go.
Before I could catch another thought, Roman’s mouth was on mine again. His tongue thrust in, taking my mouth and devouring it with such ravenous hunger, I was back to liking hot and frenzied.
When he broke the kiss, he nipped my bottom lip, promptly soothing the sharp sting of pain with his tongue before he traced a path down my throat and over the swell of my breasts. Covering one of my nipples with his mouth, he proceeded to devour it, administering long, languid licks and playful nips in a mindless swirl of sensations before he moved on to the other breast to repeat the torture.
“Oh God!” I arched my back toward him. Every single nerve in my body thrummed to life from his touch.
His ministrations of my breasts were driving me insane, enflaming the tender area with every languid pass of his talented tongue, every sharp biting nip of his teeth, and every earth-shattering pull from his lips.
His hands moved to either side of my waist, slid deliberately down my thighs to the backs of my calves; his eyes followed their path. With a forceful jerk of both his wrists, he yanked my legs up at the same time to push them apart until I was fully open and exposed to his scrutiny. The brutally intense expression on his handsome face was almost possessive in its intent; the unconcealed hunger in his inky eyes caused moisture to surge between my thighs. I’d never had anyone openly admire me with such fierce, carnal desire before—the effect was one hell of a potent aphrodisiac.
Another jerk of his wrist, and my delicate lace panties were viciously ripped from my body.
“Roman!” I shrieked, in shock.
“Shh…Princess.”
“I…can’t…believe you just tore my underwear off!” I stuttered, still reeling from having my underwear torn from my body.
“Charlotte,” he rumbled in a low, gravelly tone. His large hands framed my face. “We’ll fuck slow and gentle next time but right now, I’m going to fuck you hard and I’m going to fuck you fast, because Princess, seeing your perfect tiny little body laid out naked and under me—my cock is demanding nothing less.”
Bending his head, his tongue then slid into my mouth to quiet any protest I might have had, and believe me—after calling my body perfect in that seductive gravelly tone of his—I couldn’t think of a single objection. I tilted my head as my own tongue met every one of his strokes as we fought a frantic duel of desire.
Before I could comprehend the loss of his body, Roman reared up. His fingers moved to the belt of his pants and just as quickly they were gone, along with his boxer briefs. Gawking, I watched, stupefied in a fog of Roman Knight-lust as he produced a foiled wrapper—from God knows where—ripped it open with his teeth and then sheathed his cock in one fluid motion. Apprehension reared at the sheer size of his masculinity; Roman was a tall man and broad, almost a foot taller than me and apparently, that wasn’t the only thing that was bigger. The man was freaking huge.
Before I could demur, Roman captured both of my wrists in one hand and lifted them above my head. His other hand went to the base of his thick, wide girth to position himself at the entrance to my sex. Leaning forward, his lips came to mine and brushed across them once softly.
“Let me worship you, Princess,” he whispered.
I nodded instantly my assent.
Roman drove into my heated core with one long, smooth, powerful thrust and I gasped aloud, feeling all of him buried exquisitely deep inside me. He felt impossibly huge but oh so amazingly warm and good.
“Fuck!” He hissed out between his teeth. “Jesus, you’re even more fucking tight than I imagined.”
He stilled to allow me to adjust to his size. His hold on my hands released; he brushed my hair back from my face. “Okay?” The intoxicating scent of his breath fanned along my face.
I nodded, and threaded my fingers through his hair and brought his lips back to mine. I grinned against his lips.
“Good.” He grinned back, his eyes alight with amusement. His tongue darted out to lightly trace the swell of my bottom lip; the tender gesture contradicted his earlier words. Then, braced up on his forearms, Roman thrust in and out with long, powerfully measured strokes. Each thrust increased in tempo; the sound of our bodies slapping against each other’s was the beating of a sensual drum. And it felt amazing!
“Oh God! Roman,” I moaned. My hands ran over the hard angles of his back. Eagerly, I met each measured thrust of his hips, until I whimpered from the pleasure, completely consumed by the overpowering sensations of our bodies joining together, over and over in excruciating passion.
His hand went down low between our connection and his gifted fingers homed magically in on my clitoris. The man had definite talent. The combination of his rolling thumb and tenacious forefinger drove me unbearably higher and higher until my climax hit like a tidal wave, crashing and rolling through me, wave after wave until all I could do was scream out my release with unabashed hoarseness.
Spurred on by my screams of pleasure, Roman’s thrusts grew demanding, pounding relentlessly into me with each drive of his hips until he roared his own release, grinding out his pleasure with controlled strokes. Roman rolled us to the side and gathered me into the warm firmness of his chest as we both struggled to temper our breathing. His chin rested against the top of my head.
“I guess you were right,” I murmured softly.
“About what exactly?”
“I may feel some small degree of attraction toward you.”
I could feel his lips smile against my hair.
Chapter Nine
Stretching, I opened one eye and squinted at the morning light that filtered in through the glass French windows as I slowly came awake. My mouth felt dry as I shifted onto my side and glanced down at the pale mauve sheet that partially covered my naked body. The sheets beneath me were the silkiest I’d ever slept on and idly I wondered what their thread count was.
As I gingerly tested my body, I felt stiff and slightly sore, which was something I was accustomed to from the countless hours I spent practicing in preparation for performances with the troupe. But this time the aches and pains were deliciously different and emanated from between my thighs.
I propped myself up on my elbows and scanned the empty space on the bed beside me. The unmistakable sound of a shower in progress cau
ght my attention, and I turned my head in the direction of the colossal master bathroom. The door was closed. Closing my eyes, I exhaled harshly, sluggishly trying to piece together the events of last night.
Memories flooded back in a rush: Roman kissing me, his candid admiration of my body, viciously ripping off my panties, and him giving me the most intense, earth-shattering orgasm of my life.
After our initial wild and frenzied coupling, Roman did indeed fuck me slow and sweet as promised. Three more times, to be precise—the man was a machine. With each time, he became more creative with a varied selection of positions that I would have previously thought anatomically impossible—but was delightfully proved wrong. The last by far was the best and included Roman’s gorgeous head between my thighs. Sex with Roman Knight was mind-blowingly incredible and I couldn’t wait for an encore performance.
“You’re awake.”
Startled by the sound of his voice, I instinctively pulled the sheet farther up my body and covered my breasts as I swung my gaze in his direction. Instantly our gazes locked, but I forced my focus away, leisurely scanning the tall, muscular frame of the man who both creatively and expertly fucked my brains out last night.
And yes—I was not afraid to admit to being a shameless hussy in that moment.
Roman was all but naked with the exception of a fluffy white towel wrapped low around his hips. Small droplets of water beaded down and over the expanse of his mouthwateringly defined abs. Farther down, past his waist, was the succulent trail of black hair that seductively snaked beneath the edge of the towel to his hidden treasure trove of masculine virility. Sucking in my bottom lip, I lifted my eyes back up and noticed Roman smirking at me.
“See something you like?” Mirth sparkled in his gaze.
Instead of answering and making a lust-struck fool of myself, I decided to evade. “Er…what time is it?”
He walked to the dresser. “Almost eight.”
“What!” I screeched. Panic eclipsed my lust-filled thoughts. I scrambled off the bed while I tried to keep the sheet wrapped around me in a vain attempt of modesty. “I have to be at the embassy by nine! Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”
