Page 159 of The Dollhouse

I arched my back, spreading my legs a bit more, as much as I could while in the dress, which gave Roman better access to my clit. The hand on the back of my neck had loosened and fallen to my hip, once more digging in.

“Let me hear you,” Roman demanded. “Let me hear the sounds you make. Let the whole fucking house hear. I don’t care. You’re mine, Zoey Marbella. Mine.” With his words, his rubbing of my clit grew more urgent, and the heat inside me spiraled. I couldn’t see straight, knowing only the pleasure in my lower half, the feeling of being pushed to the edge.

And Roman? Roman was a fucking master at it. He could play me like a fiddle. He knew his way around me, knew exactly what to do, how to touch me, to shove me over the precipice of an orgasm, and how to do it hard. Unrelenting. Roman was a god, and I was unworthy to be in his presence.

But he’d chosen me, and I’d chosen him, and the simple act of belonging to someone was nearly enough to give me spontaneous orgasms.

Combine that with the way his hand worked my clit over the panties? It was fucking gold. All logical thought left my brain, and I was a slave to the passion, to the heat rising inside me. My muscles tensed, and I lost what little grip I had on reality when the first orgasm came crashing down, taking hold of everything I was and refusing to let go, thanks to Roman’s fervent finger work.

I didn’t bother to stifle the sound I made when I came, knowing Roman wanted to hear it. My fingers tensed on the edge of the countertop I was leaned over, my body trembling. Roman’s fingers slowed their work after I came, and he once again leaned over me, his voice low as he whispered, “The next time you come, you’ll be on my cock. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” When I didn’t give him an answer, his fingers wove through my hair and pulled my head back at an uncomfortable angle. “Isn’t it?”

I didn’t care about the uncomfortableness. Mixing pain with pleasure wasn’t something I ever thought I’d be down for, but once again, Roman had stormed into my life like a hurricane and turned everything upside-down.

“Yes,” I begged. “That’s what I want.”

Roman didn’t need to be told anything else. He released my hair, and in the next second, I heard him fumbling with his belt. I imagined him pulling his cock out, just his cock, just enough to fuck me senseless. Now wasn’t the time to get undressed completely. Technically, a worker could waltz into the kitchen at any time. They could be so out of it they don’t hear the sounds coming from us and walk into something they shouldn’t see.

He hoisted my dress up, similar to how Carter had earlier, and then he pulled my panties aside. I held my breath the moment I felt him push inside of me, shutting my eyes and losing myself to the feeling of being fucked. Roman was not a gentle lover. He was hard and fast and everything anyone could want. Dominant and possessive, through every movement of his body.

He filled me up like no other, his cock made for me and my pussy. He pumped that thick length into me over and over, my body swaying against the island countertop. My skin was aflame, my chest heaving as I struggled to regain my breathing. His fucking pushed me over the edge in record time, and I could not stop myself from crying out when I came again.

This orgasm was violent, destructive in its power. It took hold of me and refused to let go. I was pretty sure I cried out Roman’s name, but then again, I was so delirious and out of my mind with the feeling of his cock inside me I couldn’t be too sure. All I knew was my body tensed up, pleasure hot inside of me, and I would’ve fallen down if I wasn’t braced on the counter.

Roman let out a growl, and I knew I’d done exactly what he’d wanted me to. I was a good girl, for once, doing what he said, and he picked up his pace, fucking me harder, pushing the air out of my lungs.

I couldn’t say how long he fucked me, how much time passed before he came, and it didn’t matter. Everyone who was important was already here. There was no rush. If Roman and I wanted to fuck like rabbits, that’s what we’d do. No one could stop us.

He pushed into me so deeply I swore I felt his cock in my stomach, and he let out a low groan that told me his cock currently emptied itself inside of my core. Roman leaned down over me, keeping his dick nestled deep, breathing hard after he groaned. His hands had found my sides once more, and he held onto me as hard as he could, like he wouldn’t let me go for anything.

But, because tonight was a crazy night, someone else stood not too far away from us, watching with equally dark eyes. Tall, dark and handsome, one of Stella’s men, the one who’d come with the doctor to the cabin.

Lincoln.

Yes, Lincoln stood under the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the trim, arms folded over his chest, a smirk on his face. Roman was still buried in my pussy, and he made no moves of pulling out of me. For a while, both men simply stared at each other, waiting for the other to say a word.

Because the testosterone in the kitchen was almost overwhelming, I was the one who spoke first. Yeah, me, the girl with the dick currently lodged up her hoo-ha. “Can we help you, Lincoln?” I struggled to sound normal and not like someone who’d just been fucked senseless, but I think I succeeded.

Then again, maybe not.

“I was just coming to find you because Markus is here and he wants to talk to you, but, uh, if you want to carry on, go right ahead.” Lincoln continued to smirk, and if he was closer to us, I didn’t doubt Roman would try to punch that smirk right off his face. “At least it got that crazy blond off me, though.”

All I could think was that Lola was currently with Markus, talking about orgies. That would be a sight, definitely. And as for orgies, the mere mention of that word would cause half the people in this house to have a heart attack.

“We’ll be right out,” I told him, giving him a smile I hoped would send him away. And it did… it just took him a while. A good, long while. Once he no longer stared at us with that dashing, mischievous smirk, I told Roman, “I guess we better get back out there, huh?”

Behind me, he grumbled, “I guess.” He wasn’t happy about Lincoln seeing us, and I knew he’d probably want to have words with the guy. Whatever. As long as no one threw any punches, I was okay with whatever.

Roman took his time in withdrawing from me, and when he pulled out, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the loss in my soul. It was like he’d taken a piece of me with him, even though the reality was he’d left me with some extra cum in my pussy. I fixed my panties and my dress while he put himself away, and within a few more moments, we were ready to venture out.

Markus Scott was here. I supposed it made sense, since he was the one who’d told me this would be a masquerade party. He probably wanted to talk to me, give me more details about the favor I agreed to do for him in return. Maybe he’d brought the person I was supposed to show around campus.

Once we were ready, we ventured out of the kitchen. We found Markus just inside the great room, wearing a sleek black mask. He wore a pitch-black suit, paired with a dark red tie. It reminded me of something Roman would wear… or the devil. His black hair was neatly combed back, his square jaw lined with short stubble.

Markus was… well, I didn’t know how to describe him, really. There was something about him, something so inherently intense it was almost unsettling. Though I didn’t know him, I knew the man was capable of many things, awful things. With the people he surrounded himself with, he had to be on a level of his own. I wasn’t one to describe any man as terrifying, but if I would, I’d definitely use it for him.

Lola stood before him, talking to him, and as Roman and I walked up, we were able to hear exactly what she was saying to him: “Is this your girl? Oh, isn’t she sweet? She doesn’t really seem like your type, though. A powerful man like yourself should have an equally powerful woman, don’t you think?” She laughed, as if the glare Markus currently gave her didn’t affect her. Which, I realized, it probably didn’t, because Lola didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought about her.

I didn’t even realize someone was on Markus’s arm until I stood beside Lola. Lola’s body had blocked her out, only because the girl was small. Smaller than me. Shorter, too. She wore a black mask that matched Markus’s, though that was the only thing that matched. She wore a pale pink dress, her long blond hair straight as it fell over her shoulders. Her eyes were a bright, pretty blue, and she looked vastly uncomfortable with everything Lola was saying.

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