Page 88 of Volatile Obsessions

My body fell lax in desperation of finding a rhythm. Pliant beneath him, I let him explore, let him consume me, let him lead.

Only idly—and momentarily—did I realize alarm bells would normally have been blaring by now.

But I wasn’t remotely afraid.

If anything, the acute tempo of my breathing stemmed purely from carnal desire as he kissed me senseless.

He wasn’t far behind either.

His chest heaved with such ferocity, the air around us quivered.

It reverberated through me, lanced right through my being until I was trembling.

Aching.

Zoning out from everything but right here, right now.

“Tell me why you ran,” Roman hissed as he came up for air. He released me, all to grip me at the hips with both hands and push me further down on him.

My heat throbbed as his erection probed me, teasing me through all the layers separating us.

The veil of lust so was thick, whatever he’d asked had gone right over my head. “What?”

Draping himself over me, he met my stare. “Tell me. Why you ran from me. When I put my lips on you.”

His breath was hot on my skin, drenched in bourbon. And his eyes, they swam in it, too, unfocused and reflective.

He was so pissed I honestly wondered how he was still standing up right.

The thought instantly sobered me, reminding me he’d been outside those doors just five minutes ago, balls deep in two women.

“It doesn’t matter.” I tried pushing him off me. “We have to stop, though.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I croaked incredulously. “For starters, you’re drunk—way past the limit. And did you happen to forget you were just out there in the hallway, getting your cock sucked by one female, while you played with an entirely different cunt?”

Roman fell silent.

He pulled back to full height and watched me beneath curious brows, taking me in spread out before him on the pool table. His gaze was so utterly penetrating, I could feel it searing through me like a laser.

Down my neck, over my breasts, along my stomach...

When he reached the barely contained space between my thighs, I swallowed down the whimper caught in my throat and snapped my legs closed, feeling unbearably vulnerable under his scrutiny.

The growl that thundered in his chest was feral. My reaction to his perusal obviously wasn’t to his liking.

Fist clenching the very middle of my tank top, he yanked me up toward him in a flash, my legs naturally spreading to accommodate his hips.

“They’re distractions,” he grated into my ear, the tip of his nose buried in my hair.

“From what?”

“From you and everything you stand for.”

“Which would be?” I asked on a shaky breath, my hands subconsciously gripping his tee, too.

“Everything I shouldn’t want.”

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