Page 45 of Pretty When He Bleeds

His gaze drops back to the sheets and he twists his fingers around mine. “Does it—”

“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” I say, the words surprising even me, and Roman looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You loved Caleb when he needed it, and I’m thankful to you. But it doesn’t change anything for me.”

“What… what the hell does that mean?” he asks, looking at me with disbelief.

“It means,” I say, leaning closer, “that I still want you, despite what you had with Caleb. And if that means dealing with the ghosts you carry, then so be it. You’re worth it for me.”

Roman’s breath catches, his lips parting like he’s going to say something, but I don’t give him the chance.

I lean in and kiss him again, harder this time, my hand slipping into his hair to hold him in place. He responds instantly, his body arching into mine as his hands clutch at my sides. The kiss deepens, turning messy and desperate, and I climb on top of him, pressing him into the mattress. His legs part to make room for me, his hands sliding up my back as he pulls me closer.

“You’re mine, Roman,” I murmur against his lips.

He shudders beneath me, his hard cock pressing against mine. “Yeah,” he breathes, his voice wrecked. “Yeah, I’m yours.”

I don’t know what this is—what we’re doing or where it’s going—but I don’t care. Because right now, in this moment, Roman Bishop is mine. And I’m not letting him go.

I can feel the way his breath hitches beneath me, his body arching into mine like he can’t get close enough. His hands grip my back and fuck if it doesn’t light something primal in me.

But then his hands move, sliding down my sides and pushing at my hips, and I pull back just enough to look at him. His face is flushed, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are glazed over with want.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He smirks, his hands slipping under the waistband of my sweats and tugging them down a couple of inches. “What’s it look like?”

“Bold of you to assume you’re in charge,” I mutter, but I roll to the side, letting him up, and I sit back against the headboard, my chest rising and falling as I watch him. Then he crawls toward me with a heat in his eyes that makes my cock twitch.

His hands land on my thighs, and he leans in, his gaze flicking over my body. “You’ve got a lot of ink,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing over the black and gray designs etched into my skin.

“Yeah, and you’ve got a lot of piercings; what’s your point?”

He chuckles and his touch lingers on the spider tattoo on my pelvis, his eyes narrowing as he studies it. “This one,” he says, tracing the intricate legs of the black widow. “What’s the story?”

I shrug, trying to keep my breathing steady. “Got it after I moved out of my parents’ place. Felt… fitting.”

“No shit,” he says, his smirk widening. He leans in, his breath warm against my skin as he examines it closer. “I fucking love it. It suits you.”

“Suits me how?”

He glances up, his eyes gleaming with something wicked. “Dangerous. Deadly. Hot as fuck.”

“Glad to know you’re a fan,” I murmur, but my breath catches when his lips press against the ink, his pierced tongue flicking out to trace the edges and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Roman doesn’t stop there. He kisses lower, dragging the waistband of my sweats down farther until they’re barely clinging to me. The anticipation coils tight in my chest, my hands balling into fists as I watch him.

The intensity in his gaze makes my throat tighten, but I swallow it down, letting the heat between us take over instead. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll never let you leave this bed.”

“I told you I don’t want to leave,” he says, and when he finally pulls my sweats off completely, his eyes go wide, his lips parting slightly as he stares at my cock. “Damon, what the fuck?”

I snort, my lips curving into a smirk. “That a complaint?”

“Fuck no,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “Just… fuck.”

“You’re staring,” I tease, but the way his tongue flicks out to wet his lips sends a shiver of want straight through me.

“Can you blame me?” he mutters, finally meeting my eyes. “Your cock is going to tear me apart.”

I can’t help but laugh, the sound rough and full of pride. “Think you can handle it?”

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