Page 132 of Volatile Obsessions

I, however, never got the chance to tell them.

Rome was right on time and he didn’t seem too inclined to wait outside after taking a good look at me, regardless of what the reason may be.

Not gonna lie… I was kinda happy right then my girls had dolled me up.

Seeing the fire ignite in his eyes was exhilarating.

Worth every damn cringing moment.

I held my head higher as all my reservations melted away, remaining perfectly in place under his scrutiny.

“Your hair.” He seemed to be in awe. “You changed it.”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “It was time. Suki and Ramsey’s idea really.”

“It suits you,” he cooed, fingering a lock. “I love the silver hue, somehow brings to your eyes more.”

A fresh wave of heat crept up my cheeks. “Thank you.”

Rome tipped his head by way of reply, only for his eyes to roam up my body in another appreciative sweep.

I thought I’d imagined the deep rumble that seemed to reverberate from his chest, but not ten seconds later he was caging me into the door of my flat.

“You look incredible, seriously,” he rasped, the tip of his nose skated along the curve of my neck. “Are you trying to kill me in that little thing?”

He was referencing the black lace romper clinging to my body; extremely short and backless, with a plunging sweetheart neckline held up by thin spaghetti straps. Almost every inch of my inked skin was exposed and it was blatantly obvious I was bare beneath.

“You can thank Suki for that. She picked it out,” I chuckled, angling toward him as his warm lips sought me out.

“Thank her for what? Subjecting me to torture for the rest of the night?”

“I’d hardly call it torture when you’ve got your hands all over me right now.”

Said hands trailed over the curve of my ass and up my back in a feather-light yet purposeful caress. “It’s torture because I know what’s under this scrap of a garment, and I’m lusting after it so hard, I don’t know how I’ll be able to contain myself.”

“Behave, and you can have it,” I whispered, locking my arms around his neck to lure him closer.

Our lips brushed.

“Is that a promise?”

Another brush.

“Cross my heart.”

And another.

"I'm holding you to it."

Face cupped in his grasp, he left no room for me to counter, pressing our lips together with such ferocity, I couldn't breathe under their assault.

Slick, enticing sounds instantly filled the foyer as he invaded my mouth, hips shifting closer to the heat between my legs.

We'd never leave at this rate, but I couldn't for the life of me stop him if I wanted to. Opening wider, I allowed his impatient tongue to wickedly duel with my own, drawing out a feverish, wanton moan from deep within me.

“Fuck,” he hissed, as carnal and consumed as I felt.

Then he pulled away, leaving me so bereft I almost whimpered at the loss.

---