Claiming What's Mine

by Jennifer Sucevic

  Drew turns off the truck and angles his body toward mine, blissfully unaware of the fact that another man fingered me in the bathroom and derailed the course of the evening and our entire relationship.

  I think he’s waiting for an invitation to continue our date inside my place. Up until an hour ago, I’d berated myself for not giving him a chance sooner. I realize now that he’ll never stack up to Roman.

  “I hope we can do this again soon,” Drew says, breaking the silence.

  Even though I don’t see that happening, I can’t convince myself to tell him. “That would be nice,” I remark weakly.

  His expression flickers with confusion and falls in disappointment. He reaches over and takes hold of my fingers. Unlike the previous times he did this, I feel nothing. The budding feelings of attraction that buzzed through my body earlier are gone.

  I feel bad for wasting his time. But instead of explaining that what happened tonight has nothing to do with him, I bite my tongue.

  I can barely admit the truth to myself, let alone him.

  Feeling like crap for ending the night on such a strange note when it had started out so promising, I say, “It’s late. I should probably get inside.”

  The hopeful glint in his eyes dies out. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

  For the first time this evening, awkwardness descends.

  I lean toward him and lay a chaste kiss on his cheek. Before Drew can take it further or ask questions, I grab the handle and push the door open.

  “Sofia?” Drew calls. “I enjoyed spending time with you and getting to know you better.”

  Bending at the waist, I meet his gaze. “Me, too.”

  “Good night.”

  Relief rushes through me. “Night, Drew. See you Monday.” I slam the door and hurry up the cement walkway. Once I reach the front door, I turn and wave.

  Drew continues watching me as I rummage through my purse for my house key, which makes me want to smack myself for not giving him more of a chance.

  I slide the key into the lock, twist it until there’s a click, and turn the handle. Pausing, I wait for a series of high-pitched beeps from the security system my father installed after I purchased the house last spring.

  They don’t ring out, which is odd.

  Drew pulls away from the curb as I lock the door. His red taillights disappear into the darkness.

  I know I set the alarm before we left. But when I glance at the panel, it’s already been disengaged.

  Stepping into the living room, I flick on the light switch. A noise draws my attention to the corner. I freeze, my gaze darting over to the leather armchair.

  And the man sitting on it.

  Chapter Eleven

  “How did you get in here?” I squeak out.

  Instead of answering, he stares at me in an unnerving fashion that makes me feel like I just invaded his home. One side of his mouth curls into something that resembles a smile as he stretches his long legs out in front of him.

  I knew I set the alarm before leaving earlier with Drew. Roman managed to disengage the system without setting it off and alerting the authorities. My father assured me that I had a state-of-the-art security system. Merely tampering with the locks on the windows or doors trips the alarm. It’s happened a few times in the past.

  “Your security system is child’s play.” He absently strokes the dark stubble on his chin. “I’ll have to speak with Enzo about that. You need to be upgraded.”

  The absurdity of his words brings a gurgle of laughter to my lips, and I raise a brow. “Oh? And what will you tell him? That you broke into my house in order to test the system and found it lacking?”

  His eyes narrow, and all the humor flitting across his face vanishes.

  “Why are you here?” I force out the question, even though I already know the answer.

  Images from the club flash through my mind. What we looked like entwined in the mirror above the sink. His hands gliding over my body. His teeth sinking into my neck. My hair wrapped around his fist.

  He rises from the brown leather chair and stalks toward me.

  Spellbound, I stand rooted in place, caught in the crosshairs of his gaze. The closer he gets, the harder my heart thuds.

  When he’s no more than a foot away, he grinds to a halt. “What happened between us, it’s not enough.”

  I agree. The fifteen minutes we spent together wasn’t nearly enough to satiate my hunger for him. “It shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” I say in spite of the way I still long for his touch and crave his dominance.

  “You’re right, it shouldn’t have,” he states in a frank tone. “But it did. And now I want more.”

  Stepping closer, he lifts a hand and softly grazes my cheek. “I shouldn’t have laid one goddamn finger on you. That was my first mistake.” Anger kindles in his eyes as he rasps, “Now the floodgates have been opened, and there’s no turning back. I walked away earlier and allowed you to run back to that other guy. What I should have done is taken what I wanted. I should have thrown you over my shoulder, carried you out of the club, and taken you home myself.”

  Desire rushes through me, warming me from the inside out. It’s something only he is capable of stirring to life. I don’t understand why, but feel addicted to it nevertheless.

  I know I should tell him to leave, but the words stick in my throat as I bask in his gentle touch.

  Roman caresses my other cheek. “I’m going to fuck you nice and hard, princess. I’m going to give us what we both want. What we need from each other. And when I bury my cock deep inside your sweet pussy, you’re going to scream my name just like you did earlier.”

  His crass words light a fire under my skin and make me picture us naked and fucking.

  In the far recesses of my clouded mind, I know that us having sex will only intensify everything I feel for him.

  Or… is it what I need to move on? To dispel the attraction simmering beneath the surface?

  He cradles my face in his palms, tipping my head until our eyes meet. “You want this, Sofia. I know you do. We’ve wanted it for a long time,” he says silkily.

  I’ve never heard him sound so cajoling. As if he’s trying to entice me onto a path I’ve never considered. But I have. Many times before. Which only makes it all the more seductive.

  I nibble my lower lip, vacillating between what I know is right and wrong. He wants physical release, and I want one night with the man who has haunted me for way too long. I can’t bring myself to say no and deny both of us, so I murmur, “Okay.”

  His lips crash into mine. I open for him right away, and his tongue plunges inside, tangling with mine. He didn’t kiss me at the club, so I revel in the feel of it now. I’m greedy for his mouth.

  I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but right now, I don’t care. I refuse to dwell on it. I’m going to enjoy this moment.

  Tomorrow is soon enough to find myself buried beneath a mountain of regret.

  Roman’s hands slide down to the top of my blouse. With deft fingers, he flicks open each button and divests me of the shirt. He unsnaps my bra and tosses it to the floor. His gaze falls to my breasts as he palms them.

  I moan as he plucks my nipples, my eyes drifting shut as arousal builds in my core.

  He flicks the clasp of my skirt and lowers the zipper, pushing the fabric over my hips and down my thighs until it pools around my ankles. His eyes rake over my body, twin flames igniting in them as he takes in my thong, thigh-high stockings, and heels. “Goddamn, you couldn’t be more perfect.”

  I glory in his approval and the reverence in his gaze. I lay my fingers in his warm palm without hesitation when he holds out a hand.

  He tows me toward him and wraps his arms around me, burying his nose in my hair. “You need a good fucking, princess.”

  I groan as desire zips through every nerve ending. “Yes.”

  “I thought so.” He lifts me, sliding his hands down to my ass as he carried me to where my bedroom is located at the
back of the house.

  My covered center rests against his lower abdomen. Letting go of all my inhibitions, I loop my legs around his waist and shamelessly grind on him.

  Roman strides into the bedroom and drops me in the center of the queen-sized bed.

  I bounce once and lay with limbs akimbo, shivering with anticipation as he looms over me. Wanting to slip my heels off, I lift a foot.

  “Leave them on,” he gruffly orders.

  Liquid heat gathers at my core. Roman’s commanding personality makes me weak in the knees. I want to lie back, spread my legs wide, and give him everything he desires. After fighting long and hard for independence from my family, I shouldn’t relinquish it so easily, especially to a controlling man like Roman.

  But it’s precisely what I want.

  What I need.

  He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it over his head, dropping it on the floor. Roman is all carved muscles that flex and bunch with every movement. A strip of dark hair between his ridged abdominals disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans. His fingers flick the button of his jeans and force the zipper down. The material parts, revealing a chiseled V.

  My eyes widen because he’s bare underneath.

  God, that shouldn’t be so sexy.

  But it is.

  Heat simmers in the pit of my belly at the sight of his long, thick erection pressing against the denim. His fingers linger at the waistband. My eyes flick impatiently to his when he doesn’t push it down. A corner of his mouth curls into a smug smile because he knows exactly what kind of physical discomfort he’s causing me.

  A low growl vibrates at the back of my throat.

  Taking matters into my own hands, I roll from my sprawled-out position on the bed. I crawl forward until I’m eye level with his open fly. Sitting on my haunches, my fingers peel the stiff material away from his body to free his cock.

  Leaning forward, I lick him from root to tip. He groans as I flick the bulbous head and draw it into my mouth.

  Roman’s hands sink into my hair, holding me in place as I flatten my tongue and rub the sensitive spot where the head meets the shaft. He thrusts his hips in rhythm to my movements.

  A long, low groan of pleasure rumbles up from deep in his chest as I take him deeper. Beads of salty precum hit my tongue and whet my desire for this man.

  His shaft swells, his balls drawing up tight against his body. But instead of coming, he pushes me away. The head of his cock pops free as I stare up at him in confusion.

  He moves a hand to my face and sweeps his fingers across my lips. One thick digit pushes into my mouth. Eyes trained on his, I suck it.

  He watches me through heavy-lidded eyes with a satisfied smile. “Do you have any idea how many times I pictured you on your knees, sucking my cock?”

  I moan around his finger, eyeing the erection only inches away.

  He removes the digit from my mouth and the hand from my hair. “Turn around.”

  I scramble to do his bidding.

  Once I’m in position, Roman places a hand between my shoulder blades and pushes me down until both cheek and chest are pressed to the mattress and my ass is high in the air. He grips my hips and pulls me to the edge of the bed, where he widens my stance.

  I shiver as a finger slips under the elastic band of my thong and traces a path between my cheeks. Goose bumps rise as he continues to caress me.

  With a sharp jerk, he tears the delicate fabric away. He palms a cheek in each hand and massages them. “Such a pretty pussy,” he muses, pulling and stretching the firm globes.

  I arch my back to tempt him into touching me. I’m so turned on. So deeply aroused by the way he’s fondling my backside that I’m soaking wet.

  A sharp slap to my ass cheek rings throughout the silent room. I gasp as the pain dissipates, leaving petals of pleasure unfurling in its wake.

  Roman gently rubs the afflicted area. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

  He smacks the other side with the same intensity.

  My gasp ends on a groan as he tenderly attends to the smarting flesh.

  “Does that make your pussy wet?”

  I moan in response.

  “Perhaps I should check for myself.”

  I strain against his hold, impatient for penetration.

  His touch is as fleeting and delicate as a butterfly wing as he runs his fingers over the outside of my aching lower lips, rimming, but never slipping inside me. When I try arching closer, his other hand moves to the base of my spine, holding me firmly in place.

  I whimper in frustration because I thought he would take me fiercely. But Roman is intent on drawing out the exquisite pleasure-pain he’s invoking in me. My nerves tingle, my senses heightened as I wait for how he’ll lay his hands on me next.

  As much as I love the torture, my body longs for release.

  The possessive hold on my back disappears. Once again, he grabs a cheek in each hand and parts them. I moan in ecstasy when his tongue swipes over my slit. Needing more, I push against him.

  He chuckles. “Greedy, aren’t you, princess?”

  Unable to form a coherent thought, I whimper and fist the bedspread as he takes a long, slow lick.

  “Delicious.” Roman sucks my throbbing clit, driving me higher and higher.

  When I can’t stand a moment more, when I feel like I’m going to splinter into a million pieces, he presses a kiss against my opening and spears his tongue into my hot sheath. Pleasure floods my system.

  “So creamy wet. I want to lick every last drop from your sweet pussy, but I can’t wait a moment longer.”

  Thank God.

  I nearly weep with relief. I don’t think I can take any more of his teasing.

  Before another thought has time to register in my brain, he buries himself to the hilt inside me. The feeling of being filled to the brim is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. My entire body sighs in contentment.

  I explode after the fifth thrust. My inner walls spasm around his girth, and he groans, pounding into me harder before collapsing against my back. The way his body drapes over mine is comforting. It’s like we’ve done this a hundred times before. A sense of rightness settles over me as his heavy breaths mingle with my quick ones. Having Roman inside my body feels like a homecoming of sorts.

  Everything in me stills as that thought takes up residence in my brain.

  The feelings he’s managed to rouse within me are dangerous. I need to push them away, tamp them down, pretend they don’t exist. I close my eyes, expecting him to pull out and gather up his clothes—

  Wait a minute…

  Did he even bother to discard his jeans?

  Oh my God!

  I become aware of the coarse material pressing against my flank and the zipper biting into my backside.

  I giggle because the fact that we’ve done this is crazy.

  “What?” he asks, sounding relaxed and satiated.

  “You didn’t take off your jeans.” As soon as the words escape, I chew my lower lip, realizing it was a mistake to remind him of what we’ve done. All he needs to do is tug them up and throw on his shirt. Then he’ll walk out the door, and whatever this was between us will be over. Roman hasn’t even pulled out of my body, and I’m already mourning the loss of him.

  This isn’t good.

  Roman slips out of me and straightens to his full height. “I can remedy that.” He kicks off his shoes—which he also never removed—and pulls the gun out of the holster fastened to his belt, placing it on top of my dresser. Keys and his wallet join the firearm. He shoves the jeans down his muscular thighs and steps out of them.

  And then Roman Santori is gloriously naked in my bedroom.

  I spread my thighs wide in invitation. He may have just fucked me, but I’m hungry for more. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get enough of him.

  His gaze drops to my pussy, and his shaft hardens. With a smirk, he crawls onto the bed with me.

  Apparently, he’s hungry for more as well.


  Chapter Twelve

  I wake in stages as if fighting my way to the surface. Something feels off, but my mind can’t figure out what. I stretch my hand out next to me coming away with nothing but air.

  Which is the precise moment when everything from last night crashes into my brain with the force of a tsunami.

  Roman.

  The bathroom at Covet.

  Him waiting in my living room.

  Both of us needing more.

  I don’t remember how many times we sated our hunger for one another. He woke me three or four times during the night. It was, in a word, delicious. So much better than any of my fantasies.

  My eyelids flutter open.

  Before I let the regret for making such a huge mistake swallow me whole, I allow myself a few moments to revel in every amazing moment that occurred between us.

  Maybe I’m naïve, but I never imagined sex could be so explosive.

  Or hot.

  Or dirty.

  Exhausted from the long night, I arch my naked body until every muscle has been lengthened and stretched. My hair is a wild, tangled mess spread across the snowy white pillowcase. I pick up a long lock and twirl it around a finger, recalling the way Roman wrapped it around his hand. A stab of desire arrows through me and settles like a heavy stone in my core. It hasn’t been but a few hours since he was inside my body and I still want more.

  With a deep sigh, I sit up. The sheet falls and pools at my waist.

  My gaze meets his, and I gasp, caught off guard by the dark, brooding eyes fixed on mine. My heart skips a beat as arousal floods me. Desire follows quickly on its heels. My core dampens, and I marvel at my visceral reaction to him. Roman has always had a strong effect on me.

  But now it’s much more intense because I know what he’s capable of. I’m tempted to hold out a hand and beckon him to me. I don’t want this interlude to end yet.

  Already dressed, Roman sits on a chair in the corner of the room with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. The passionate man who made me scream his name multiple times last night is gone, replaced by an impassive one who’s ready to leave.