As the bathroom door swung open on his return, Rahina couldn’t decide on what to focus on as he walked towards the bed: wide powerful thighs, each covered in various permanent etchings or the slight ripple of his abs as he stepped.
"I do not think I have ever had a woman actually drool for me before," he pointed out, pulling back the cover and laying back down next to her.
“I’m not drooling,” she resisted the urge to wipe at her lips to be sure. Scooting closer, she propped her head up with her arm. “It’s just that you’re so big, it’s impossible not to stare.”
“Then do not just stare,” he surprised her by leaning over and sliding his arm under her waist and lifting her until she was halfway draped over his chest.
With her hair spilling wildly around them, her hands had instinctively reached out to brace herself planting flat onto his bare chest. With permission given, she slowly began to rub her hands outwards and inwards across the taut pectoral muscles beneath. Inked epaulets at his shoulders and dark stars imprinted just below intrigued her mind and made her body react with a primal lustful response to the danger this man boldly represented.
“I used to be fat when I was a kid,” he confessed, watching her obvious delight over his form.
“Really?” She couldn’t help but grin at the conjured image of a smaller dark-haired boy that popped into her mind. “You were a pudgy little boy? That’s so cute. What made you get—like this?” she gestured, sliding her hands to the far widths of his shoulders, thus bringing her chest closer to his.
A hand came up next to her, and she could see he had the end portion of some of her black hair in his hands, smoothing it methodically between his fingers.
“I slimmed down a lot when I enlisted in the military, I worked at it harder when I realized that women love it,” the arrogant look on his face made her want to bite him. “And lastly, it is far more effective to not get winded when I am beating someone’s face in.”
And just like that, she was reminded again that she wasn’t lying in bed with just any man, she was lying practically on top of a notorious criminal who could casually joke about savage violence.
Looking down at his chest, she examined the array of tattoos imprinted into his skin as she thought about his words. “Does that come up often?” she asked softly.
“Beating someone’s face in?” he questioned with feigned innocence. “Not as much as it used to. Why, does that bother you?”
It should. Her answer should be yes. But why wasn’t it? Was she just being naïve, or did she think she was so far removed from that aspect of his reality that it simply wasn’t real enough for her to have any empathy towards? She wasn’t sure and nor was she proud of it, but she could honestly say it did not bother her.
“No. Though I can’t say, I probably wouldn’t be scarred for life if I had to watch you do it.”
The look of curious amusement vanished from his eyes, replaced by a serious expression. Turning, he easily switched their positions until he lay partially draped over her and her back pressed into the wrinkled sheets.
“I would never act that way in front of you, Rahina,” his voice was so quiet, so intense as he spoke, and she knew that he meant every word. Seeing her nod in acceptance, his eyes softened, and he looked from her eyes to her lips as if contemplating kissing her. “Besides, causing someone severe bodily harm gives me no pleasure despite what the rumors say. There are just some situations…” he paused, thinking of the perfect wording.
“Where it has to be done,” she supplied helpfully.
“Exactly,” he grinned gleefully.
Lifting her hands to his head, she traced around the edges of his ears, enjoying his eyes closing in pleasure. “I don’t like to think of you getting hurt.”
Roman’s eyes popped open, stunned at her words before laughing. Leaning down, he kissed her lightly against the lips, and she could smell the mint of toothpaste lingering on his breath. It was comforting to know she wasn’t the only one paranoid of morning breath.
“We are talking about me hurting people, not the other way around. Besides, there is no one in their right mind that would try to hurt me.”
“But what if someone not in their right mind tried?” she pressed.
“Trust me,” he whispered, looking at her lips again before deciding to have another quick taste. She felt herself lift to meet him more in the kiss, but he pulled away with a teasing smile. “I know every action of my enemies and not one of them has the balls or power to step up to me. Believe me Rahina, I am the craziest one at the table. I am not a man to make angry.”
A part of her wondered if he wasn’t only trying to reassure her but reassure himself too. She didn’t say anything though, she simply wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. Her lips were just beginning to part when a low grumbling sound echoed between them from her stomach. Roman stopped moving, still in a half pushup position above her.
Rahina closed her eyes in deep shame. “Pretend you didn’t hear that,” she begged in a small whisper.
“What man could call himself a man and ignore that the woman beneath them is obviously starving?”
Snapping her eyes open, she glared back at him, annoyed at the amusement brightening his eyes.
“I normally eat around this time in the morning that’s why,” she defended.
Pushing himself back, he got up to stand. “I will go down and get us something, what do you want?”
Ashamed she ruined the moment; she bunched the covers over her head until just her face pitifully stuck out. “I will be fine with a granola bar or power bar or something.”
“You want a protein bar for breakfast in bed?” he questioned, one eyebrow raised. “That is not romantic at all.”
“Ok, but if you take off the wrapping and put it on a fancy little plate what you’re left with is romance at its finest efficiency,” she stuck one hand out the covers and made a voila gesture.
The deep, baritone laugh made her smile. “Wait here, my mushroom girl, I will get you a proper breakfast.”
After a while, Roman came back bearing food. With a tray of assorted foods between them, Rahina sat happily against the headboard holding a croissant in one hand and a forkful of fruit in the other.
“I would like to know more about you.”
“Like what?” He turned his head towards her from his identical position against the headboard. His smile was wooden as if he knew exactly where this conversation was going to go, and he didn’t care to journey along
She knew from past conversations his military past was off limits, but as she looked away from his waiting blank eyes and hollow smile, she was beginning to realize that included more than just the military aspect of his past.
“You don’t really like talking about your past, do you?” she asked warily.
Taking the last bite of his croissant, he sat their empty tray on the nightstand. “No, I do not.”
It stung to hear the answer so bluntly. “I understand,” she gave him an understanding smile. There was an edge of haunted anger in his eyes, and she knew she must have accidentally forced him to dredge up an old painful memory. “I didn’t mean to pry,” she rushed to explain, hoping that maybe her rambling may shake him from his thoughts. “We can just focus on now and the future. Like how mine will consist of me either staying at the company under a cloud of pity and lack of appreciation or reaching out to the other major dance companies and seeing what they are willing to offer. I mean it won’t be easy of course, but I think…”
“I do not like remembering the past,” he cut her off with a knowing look that told her that her attempt at changing the subject was appreciated but ineffective. “Nothing about it is so uniquely tragic that it is worth sharing, nor was it pleasant. All it does is serve to remind me that I left a few people alive that more than deserved a final visit from me.”
A muscle twitched at the back of his harsh set jaw, and Rahina couldn’t help but raise hand to it and slowly soot
he at the jumping muscle. Dark eyelashes fanned across his heavy-lidded eyes as he watched her come closer, settling directly against him until she was just under his nose. Leaning her head back onto his shoulder, she gently urged his lips to cover hers in a slow working kiss. Letting her set the pace, Roman worked his tongue against hers only in response to her cautious probing strokes of her own.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” she said honestly. The last thing she wanted was to make him relive something that obviously still troubled him. “I’m fine with whatever you’re comfortable giving me.”
A sudden vibrating noise made her jump. Looking over to his nightstand, she could see his upside-down phone lighting up against the dark wood top. Letting out an angry sigh, Roman reached for the phone and glanced at the screen before giving it a few taps on the screen and putting it back onto the table.
The seriousness of the mood between them seemed instantly altered by the interruption.
“Ok, I have another question I have been curious about,” she leaned back and wiggled her eyebrows at him. Scooting back down into the plush covers, she tugged on his arm for him to follow her lead. Indulging her, he laid down on his side and propped his head up with one arm and gave her a waiting look. “Ok,” she sighed with contentment as she snuggled closer to him. “Tell me what would you have really done if I were to have let Calvin come in that night?”
“That is easy,” his smirk turned into the large feral grin that sent shivers of fear coated excitement down her spine. “I would have made sure at the very least he would never play ball again.”
Rahina couldn’t deny the shock she felt at the veiled threat. On some level, she knew he would say something possessive, but the outright promise of violence was surprising. “Roman, you can’t be serious. Just for coming inside?”
Laying a hand on the curve of her hip, Roman leaned forward and placed a kiss against her lips. Just as she opened her mouth for more, he leaned away and smiled. One by one, he placed the same tender kiss on the rise of each of her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her chin, and lastly her forehead. “Yes, beautiful,” he spoke. “I would have; it’s important you understand that.”
She wasn’t quite sure when their positions changed, but as she lay there looking up at him, she was reminded that she lured a very dominant man into her life, and could not help but love it. The width of his broad shoulders, even in this relaxed position was striking. His hand at her waist stroked a lazy circular pattern into the sheet that separated them with his thumb, and though everything was perfectly fine between them, she could sense the heaviness of his steel gaze waiting for her compliance.
“I understand, but,” she argued. “I have loads of male friends, and while I think some jealousy in certain situations is understandable, I don’t want you to go into killer mode all the time.”
His hand at her waist smoothed its way up the dip and on to the rounding curve of her hip sending little arcs of heated energy through her. Signaling to her body that there was so much more behind that small touch, more she really wanted to explore.
“As long as none of them are trying to fuck you Rahina, I could care less how many of your friends are male.”
Giving him a sly look that conveyed her skepticism of that statement she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, her stomach leaping in excitement as he lowered down further above her letting her arms cross behind his neck. “If I did let him in that night, what would have done to me?”
Bending closer, he planted one hand next to her head on the bed. “I would have had to have a long talk with you to ensure you understood your new reality.”
Their lips were just a whisper apart, and Rahina had to control herself to keep from squirming with evident anticipation against the heat of his long body. “And what’s my new reality?”
For a man who wore a constant smile, she found it remarkable that she could still find the subtle shifts in the gesture so breathtakingly alarming. Wide and cutting, a smile so full of possession and wild power gleamed back at her. “That you belong to me,” he answered deeply, before closing his mouth over hers.
Rahina couldn’t control the little whimper that left her throat, she didn’t care if he knew just how much she wanted him. She wanted him to know, she wanted him to engulf her in this wildly hot feeling he was stirring up inside of her. Clutching at his shoulder, she let one hand run through his short dark hair sighing into his deepening kiss at the silky softness of the texture. One of his knees pushed at hers from between her legs, pushing it further apart. Breaking away from her lips, he covered the thrashing pulse at her neck, sucking and biting before returning back to her mouth. That damn tongue of his would be the death of her. So soft and wet, it filled her mouth, exploring and stroking the desire he was building so high inside of her. Rough fingers scraped across the hot, smooth skin of her shoulders and Rahina could feel the straps to her tank top and bra being pushed down her arms.
Mummering something deep in his language, he pulled away just as he peeled the cups of her bra from her breasts.
Rahina watched mesmerized as his usually keen narrow eyes, widened with feline enamor at the sight of her dark nipples. The pure hunger that shined back in his gray eyes alarmed her, but she had no time to react before he dove forward. Rahina let out a cry at the sudden wet heat of his tongue dragging across one of her sensitive peaks.
Again, he groaned something deep under his breath, something she was positive was a Russian profanity of some sort as one of his hands roughly kneaded one of her breasts.
Governed now by his lust, Roman’s hands moved down her hips as he placed one last biting suckle to her abused nipple. Pushing down her pajama shorts and panties all in one swipe, he yanked them past her ankles and off her feet, leaving her completely naked from the waist down.
“Roman,” she pleaded, her voice thick with nervous desire. Everything was moving so fast; she had no control on what was happening.
Straddling one of her legs, Roman pushed himself up further so that he could look down at the small trimmed patch of black curls between her legs. She could see the muscles in his neck work as he swallowed at the sight. Slate gray eyes darted back to hers, and he gave her a slow, deliberate smile.
“Rahina,” he whispered. “Do you have any idea what I am going to do to you?” Leaning forward, he kissed her briefly, biting at her lower lip. “First, I am going to chain both of your wrists to my bed.” Picking up each wrist, he placed a meaningful kiss on each before guiding them upwards, above her head and wrapping her hands around the slatted wood of his headboard. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t move when he pulled back, keeping her hands just where he instructed them. “Then, I am going to taste every fucking inch of you.”
Both hands started at her breasts gliding down her narrow waist and curving in before flaring out along the shape of her hips and moving to her knees. Pushing her knees further apart, he settled himself between them, lowering himself until his face was level with the delta between her legs. Oh, God. Her body was shaking at the anticipation and fear. She never had a man do this to her before and for a fearful moment, doubt sliced through her.
“No,” she began to pull herself up using the headboard as leverage. “I don’t know if…”
“Do not move,” his command felt like a whip cracking through the air. Tightening his grip on the underside of her knees, he jerked her back down, closer to his face.
“Roman, please. What if I don’t…ohhhh,” her hands tightened painfully on the decorative wooden slats in the headboard as her head arched backward.
Only a kiss. He only placed one kiss to the center of the trimmed black curls expertly and directly against her hooded clit, but the feeling was devastating. Oxygen seized midway in her throat, temporarily confused of its original purpose and function as he placed small cruel teasing kisses along the outside edge of her curls before coming back to target and pressing his lips harder for another single, simple kiss.
&nb
sp; “Roman!” she cried in agony, needing so much more.
Looking down at him, she could see the carnal change in his eyes as his grip around her legs tightened, and she knew he was going to switch gears. Rahina shivered in fearful eagerness.
The loud deliberate knock from the bedroom door stilled them both in silent disbelief. There was a muffled noise on the other side, but they both heard it—it was Roman’s name being called.
Rahina was too shocked and confused to actually process what was happening, but the abrupt savage rage in Roman’s eyes told her he had processed the interruption perfectly fine. With a snarl that made her jump, Roman grabbed a fistful of the comforter and threw it over her naked body as he got up with lightning speed and stomped towards the door. Whipping open the door so fast she caught the barest glimpse of Mosca’s grave face before Roman shut the door behind him
Slowly, she sat up in the bed trying to make as little noise as possible as she listened to the deep muffled voices on the other side of the slightly cracked door. When he did come back in Rahina wished she would have gotten dressed. It was a very disconcerting feeling being naked under a blanket as a giant of a man stood at the edge of your bed, looking like he was ready to murder something.
“Is everything ok?” She had never seen him like this before. No smile, no eye contact, just seething rage.
His large defined chest lifted heavily with each breath; his flinty eyes were like two winter storms staring off unseeingly at the far wall. Worried, she wrapped the cover under her arms, and she crawled awkwardly on her knees to the edge of the bed and gingerly reached out to his shoulder as if he were some wild creature.
Turning to her, his eyes narrowed with a flash of renewed anger before he let out a ragged groan, using both hands to scrub up and down his face. “That was my boss.”
His Smile: A Mafia Romance Page 14
