by Bethany-Kris
She wanted to be too full.
Good and used.
Fucked in the only way he could do to her. The only way she wanted.
“Come for me, babe,” he urged, husky and breathless, already feeling the way her inner muscles were starting to spasm around him when he fucked her a little harder. “You’re gonna feel this for a week, Karine.”
“God, that’s what I want.”
Yeah, he knew.
When his hand circled her throat, and he could feel the fast flutter of her heartbeat against his palm, her final cry was loud and broken. She came with a shout, and it only took feeling the gush of warmth around his cock to make Roman empty his balls while he held Karine firm, and deep.
It was the pulsing jerk of his cock inside her that had Karine smiling like the cat who had gotten the cream. There was nothing that turned her on more than his seed filling her; he bet he could make her beg for it, even.
It was only once the two had crashed to the floor together—in a heap of satisfaction and happy laughter—that Karine used their mingled fluids as lubrication to keep his painfully hard cock very much alive and well. There was a sharp stab of pleasure that came with every jerk of her hand down his length, but goddammit ...
He wanted more.
Karine straddled him, the slick sliver of her pussy all pink and still hungry for him hovering over his cock that she handled with two hands for a moment. “Again?”
Roman leaned up, tucking the hair behind her ears.
He wanted her insatiable.
Undeniably his.
And she was.
“One more time,” he told her, his smile growing sinful along with hers as she slid down his length again, slow and tender, “and then we’re eating.”
Karine winked. “Deal.”
TWO
A rather large, silver platter of oysters lay uneaten on the carpeted floor between Roman and Karine where they both rested on their backs, staring up at the gold ceiling. Funnily enough, they found themselves close to the same spot where they landed on the floor earlier, only he’d convinced her to get dressed while they waited for food—even if it was only in the hotel’s robe. And she ended up using that as something she could lay on naked, anyway.
The city never slept below.
An ice bucket with two bottles of champagne sat next to the platter of oysters. A treat to enjoy that mixed well with the liquor. The hotel certainly knew how to deliver on promises. They had been well worth the money.
So far.
“Let me try.”
“I don’t know,” Roman murmured in reply, grinning all the while. “Not something you’ll like, probably.”
“Well, I want to anyway,” Karine said, stretching her hand toward his.
Roman hesitated to pass her the cigarette that she’d wanted to try at first, but because she didn’t ask the second time—I want to, she said, not let me—he gave her the nicotine stick. Passing it carefully from between his fingers to hers.
He didn’t want his bad habits tainting her, honestly. She was precious to him. More precious than money or any of his possessions ever could be. The woman also had a mind of her own, and could do whatever she wanted to do—he wouldn’t control those things.
Not that he didn’t like the sight of the cigarette between her plush lips when she pulled in her first drag. Or the way she watched him while she did it.
Karine had never smoked a cigarette before, and it was obvious when that first drag led to a coughing fit that melted into more laughter. It didn’t take long, however, before she’d figured the task out and was passing the smoke back and forth to share the rest with him.
“You know what else we should get while we’re here?” he asked, watching her take another pull from the cigarette. “Just for fun one night.”
“What?”
“Edibles. You get the best kind in Vegas, I swear.”
Karine snorted at that, passing him a look. “Numb and high, a state I know well.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
She shrugged, unbothered, saying with a devilish grin, “I know.”
She had a dark sense of humor with a twist that he sometimes didn’t see coming until it was too late. Roman’s dark chuckles only had her preening at him when he rolled over to reach for her, cupping Karine’s cheek in his palm.
He constantly wanted to touch her.
Especially now.
“If you do want something,” he told her, “all I need to do is make a call, and they’ll have it brought up. Whatever it is, that’s their job.”
And he paid a lot for the convenience.
Karine reached for his wrist, pulling him closer to her so he could hear her say, “I kinda want to, but I don’t like the idea of you leaving my side. Even for a second.”
Right.
They were never quite gone from that—the fear lingering somewhere in the back of her mind, and refusing to let go. No matter how hard he tried to make it so.
Roman let out a slow breath, accepting the cigarette she passed back to him without a word. Falling to his back, he tried to figure out a way to break it to her that this wasn’t going to last.
Their honeymoon, that was.
This fairytale.
Just because they had managed to distance themselves away from all the danger, and the reality of their lives for a few days, didn’t mean it was altogether gone. They couldn’t keep running—well, he couldn’t, anyway.
Roman just needed a bit of time to make plans work before he was ready to face what would be waiting for him on the other side.
“I don’t want to leave your side either, Karine,” he finally said, rolling over to crush what remained of the cigarette to the ashtray on the floor. “Everything’s better like this.”
Karine folded an arm underneath her head and sighed, her gaze settling back on the ceiling. At least, she appeared relaxed and satisfied. Like a woman with not a single care in the world.
How she should be ...
If only.
“How about we try the oysters?” he suggested, sitting up.
He didn’t want to keep thinking about how time was ticking away in the background, minutes counting down into hours they would never get back. If they continued like this, he would have to fuck her again just to get his mind off those depressive thoughts. Not that the sex was something to complain about, but he couldn’t keep using Karine like a drug whenever he needed something to help him deal.
She wasn’t cocaine.
“I’ve never had oysters before, either,” she admitted.
Karine’s nose crinkled in the cutest way when he drizzled lemon juice from a ready-made slice over an oyster.
“I have a feeling you’ll be good at it. Now, just open your mouth wide,” he said, flicking the flesh with a fork to loosen it from its shell. Karine sat up, tipping her head back a bit and jutting her chin out when he brought the shell closer to her mouth. “Trust me.”
“It looks disgusting.”
“Eat enough, and apparently you’ll want to fuck all night.”
“Really?”
He arched a brow, considering that. “Well, that’s what people say. I don’t really know. Just try it. It’s going to be an ... unusual texture, but since you swallow me well—”
“Roman.”
“Swallow like a good girl.”
Roman slid the oyster into her mouth once she parted those stubborn lips for him, and she did exactly that. She had a smile on her face when she faced him again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Well?” he asked.
“I want another.”
Roman chuckled.
Of course.
He was already reaching for the next shell. Anything for her.
*
They’d eaten all the oysters and drank most of the champagne by the time the television on the other side of the room stopped playing the first episode of a series that Karine had seemed interested in when he scrolled thr
ough the options. He could see she was tipsy by the way she watched him through half-closed lids where she’d perched her chin atop her hands on his hard stomach.
He had the best view of her naked body stretched out before him, and the reflection of her curves in the glass to enjoy, as well. Roman was a happy man—for once—in the silence.
Karine just didn’t stay that way for long.
Not that he minded.
“I sometimes wonder if they ever had moments like these, you know?”
“Who?” he asked.
“My father and mother. When they first got married, I mean, before I was born.”
She’d stopped looking at him, and Roman couldn’t bring himself to force her to stare him in the face as she spilled her pain. Her traumas seemed hard for her to share, and he wasn’t cruel enough to make it worse.
“Maybe they were in love once, too,” she added, rolling her head a bit to glance up at him. He swiped at the tip of her nose with the pad of his thumb, enjoying the red flush that spread over her cheeks at the touch and his attention. “Maybe they were like us once, if you know what I mean? He never spoke about her after she died. So, I don’t know anything about her but what someone might say, and they know better than to say anything. He’d—”
Karine stopped, then, shaking her head. “I don’t even really remember her.”
“Did he only have the one wife?”
“No, and he wasn’t very faithful, either. I wouldn’t say he was a good husband. Or maybe he just isn’t a very good man. I’m not really sure.”
Roman grunted under his breath, and at her questioning stare, he shrugged. “I don’t know your father well enough to form an opinion on that. Somehow, he made friends with my father, though. That does make me wonder if there’s ... something there. Someone there.”
Whether it was someone good ... that was up for debate. Not one he particularly wanted to have.
Karine nodded, closing her eyes. “When we were kids, when Katina—when she was still around, he was a different man. I was just a child, but I have distinct memories of him being a dad. Like ... an actual dad. Does that make sense?”
Roman admired the soft smile on her face while she continued to speak with her eyes closed. “It does.”
“He used to give me piggyback rides, and have dinner with us every night, and ask Katina to tell him all about her day. He was so proud of her.”
She opened her eyes again, and he saw the tears she’d probably fought to hide, but in the end just couldn’t. They fell down her cheeks, making tracks that he quickly swept away before she could say a thing otherwise.
Katina.
The missing link in Karine’s past—the older sister who undoubtedly would have shaped a good portion of her life had she not been taken too soon. In the cruelest card the universe had ever dealt—her sister was murdered by the man Karine was supposed to marry. Roman certainly understood why all of those details made her memories all the more painful.
He still wished he could take it away.
Weaving his fingers with hers, Karine bit her lip while the tears still streaked her cheeks, more falling with her next blink. She could cry without making a sound. Not even a whimper. That probably cut him the most.
Who had taught her to hide sadness?
Why didn’t her pain matter, too?
“I know it’s kinda hard to believe,” she eventually said.
“It’s not the Maxim I’ve known,” Roman admitted.
“It’s not the Maxim he has been in a very long time. Not since Katina died. Well, before even ... it started with his wives dying, I think, and only got worse. He buried that pain in women and work, and only brought us out when he was happy or pretending to be. He stopped pretending altogether when Katina died. Her death snuffed what humanity he had left in him. I reminded him of her in different ways; sometimes, it scared him. I ... acted strangely. I changed overnight, and so did he.”
Karine shuddered when Roman pulled her into his arms, trying desperately to rid her face of the tears while she apologized.
“Sorry. God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be ... I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Bring anything up—everything. I want to hear you talk for hours about anything on your mind. I don’t care if you cry,” he murmured into her hair, “as long as I’m not the one making you do it. You just have to let me take the tears away, too. That’s all.”
She buried her face into his bare chest while he stroked her hair until her hot tears stopped staining his skin.
“I’m not sure how to explain what that feels like—to have your sister murdered right in front of your eyes, and then your father shuns you because he can’t handle it.”
“You don’t have to explain it.”
“He blamed it—they all blamed it—on rivals. Enemies. I don’t even think anyone took credit, he was just angry.”
But clearly, never at the right people.
Roman didn’t say that out loud.
“Nobody will ever know what that feels like,” he told her instead, “and that makes you stronger than you realize.”
Only then did she lift her head up.
“I’m not strong, Roman. Please don’t make the mistake of assuming that about me. I’m a lot of things, I know. And many of them are confusing, but that isn’t one of them. If I was strong, I would have told everyone the truth about what I saw. What I know about ... about him, what he did.”
She couldn’t even say his name. Some things, apparently, were still one thing at a time. And that was one of those.
Roman pulled her back down to his chest and she breathed in his scent, satisfied in his arms. “You were just a child, Karine.”
That was all he could find to say. She hadn’t told him more—he didn’t know what Dima had said to her when he found her hiding in the closet that day, or the things that might have come after. Roman had a good enough imagination that he didn’t think he needed actual details to paint a picture. Not a pretty one, either.
As a child, she wouldn’t have known what to do. Could she have even understood the words she needed to say to explain to people the scene she witnessed? He seriously doubted it, considering she was broken by it. She didn’t have the means to handle it.
And instead of telling her father or anybody else, at the time, her mind fragmented into an identity who protected her from the pain and suffering of her memories. Even her insecurities. Her weaknesses, too.
Katina clearly came later, a mirror of the sister she had lost in some ways, but she brought violence wherever she went, leading him to think she protected Karine more than anything else.
On the other side of the same coin, Katee was the child she had never truly gotten to be—an alter representative of the age where a piece of Karine was undoubtedly stuck forever.
Maybe emotionally.
“It doesn’t matter anyway, right?” Karine wiped what remained of the tears from her cheeks, still content in his arms whether she was crying or not. “We’re all a little fucked up because of it. Most of all, my father.”
Roman had to decide whether to tell her. It was a clear opportunity for him to come clean. He knew something about her father that she ought to know—it was her father. It was her right to know he could be dead.
He tried to say it.
Even opened his mouth to say it.
Come on, you stupid fuck, just say it.
Karine straightened in his arms, and sat up, facing him with a weak smile. “I’m sorry for dumping that on you. I guess you know everything there is to know about me now, though. Not very interesting, am I?”
There had never been a worst lie. That was the thing about lies, though ... the worst ones were the lies people told themselves. Karine was terribly good at doing that.
Roman wouldn’t feed into it. He could only love her the way he wanted her to love herself; the rest she had to work out on her own.
“Well, I don’t think I know everything,” he replied, “but I wa
nt to. All of it. Even the boring shit. I might know the big picture, but it’s the little details that makes it beautiful, babe. I suspect there’s a lot you haven’t done, for example. I know you had never eaten oysters before, or smoked a cigarette. What else haven’t you done?”
He’d been all of those firsts.
Any that she wanted with him.
The brightness returned to Karine’s eyes instantly. That’s really what she was for him—an instant shot of joy straight to the fucking heart, and he couldn’t explain it. She drummed her fingers along his arm, considering his question before she came up with yet another answer that surprised him.
“I’ve never been to the zoo,” she finally replied.
Roman laughed. “Are you serious?”
Karine waved a hand in differently. “If my parents ever took me, I don’t remember it. I didn’t exactly have the most normal upbringing.”
“I know, we’ve established that.”
“Okay,” she said with a nod, “then the zoo. I’ve never been to a zoo.”
He grinned, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll take you to the zoo, sweetheart. I’ll take you to the zoo everyday, if that’s what you want. Hell, Karine, I’ll buy you a fucking zoo someday.”
He just needed the time.
Time to get them there.
THREE
Karine didn’t know the store Roman had brought her to, but considering the security at the door and the walls of glittering diamonds that greeted them, it felt important.
She walked in with him, side by side, her arm twined around his. Her hips gently grazed him as she took each step. Constantly, he kept her close, and she didn’t even think he realized he was doing it. It certainly didn’t help her obsessive desire to keep him in her sights at all times.
Maybe they were just meant to be in that way.
A little messed up, but together.
The heels of her stilettos clicked against marble floors as they walked past tall glass showcases protecting jewels resting on black velvet. She’d never worn heels this frequently before, but Roman insisted they suited her—well, that’s what he’d growled into her ear while he fucked her from behind as she wore a pair—and now she couldn’t get enough of them.
