Page 32 of Veiled Vows

We come together with loud cries that dissolve into silence as he leans over me and kisses me like he’s a drowning man and I’m his only source of air. His kiss is all-consuming, and he robs meof breath as each powerful thrust packs his cum deep inside me while my pussy ripples and milks him of every last drop.

A last surge of pleasure and we sag down onto the counter, breathless.

“Shit,” I gasp, lightly patting his shoulder. “You did good.”

Roman huffs out a tired laugh. “Are you about to give me a rating breakdown of my fucking?”

“Maybe. Would it turn you on?”

His laughter is sweet and somewhat wholesome. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Shame we’ll never know.”

Roman slowly lifts himself and hovers over me. Even in the darkness, the sharp handsomeness of his features shines through with the streetlight cutting across his face. “Is this where you tell me this is the last time?”

I nod, gently pushing him back until his cock leaves me in a hot rush. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“I’m not complaining but…why?” Roman steps back.

“You know why.”

“Warring families, we hate each other, et cetera, et cetera.” I can tell he rolls his eyes just from the tone of his voice. “Is that the real reason?”

“What other reason is there?” Hopping down from the counter highlights the ache in my hips and I bite back a groan. God, he fucks good.

“That each time we do this, you feel like you’re betraying the man you’re in love with.”

“Let’s not get psychological.” Retrieving my clothes, I try to ignore how his words make my chest ache. “Sex makes people soft.”

“And you can’t afford to be soft?”

“Exactly. It’s different for me and you. Besides, this?” Pulling my jeans back on, I nod between the two of us. “It gets in the way of my plans. A marriage on paper is fine but anything else…”

Why do these words feel like a lie? Like I’m spinning some sort of thread I can’t let anyone else see?

“Do you really think that?” Roman asks. There’s some plastic scuffling, a clink of metal, and then the lights slowly blink back on. Roman leans back from behind the register and fixes me with a soft look. “Tell me the truth.”

“I do.” Saying that while looking him in the eye with his jaw covered in my love bites is oddly…painful. I don’t likehim…do I?

“Then you know where I’ll be when you change your mind.”

Hold on, does he like me? No…no, he’s just being cocky.

“Whatever. Thanks for your help earlier.” I blow him a cheeky kiss, trying to play this whole thing off as a game and nothing more, but an unexpected weight grows in my stomach as I walk away.

“Anytime,” Roman says, leaning back against the counter.

And that sounds like a promise.

13

JASMINE

“If you’re going to force me to watch you marry that man, the least you can do is let me plan something beautiful for you.” My mother stands in the middle of our cream and gold lounge surrounded with fabric swatches in more shades of white than I even knew existed.

“Mom, he really isn’t as bad as you think.”

“Oh don’t give me that,” she mutters. “I know all about Roman Gatti and his ilk. Men with a reputation like his are all the same.”

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