Page 76 of Worth the Trouble

His piercing hits the back of my throat, and I have to fight not to gag. Both his hands lace in the back of my head, and he fucks my face like he fucks my body, without mercy. Tears stream from my eyes as he thrusts into me punishingly, again and again. But I don’t try to stop him; I don’t move my hands. I lace them behind my back and wish I could be touching myself instead. Because the sensation of Rome’s dick stretching my mouth to its limit is making me achingly wet.

“You look perfect taking my cock down your throat, sweetheart,” he groans, before pulling the back of my hair to tug my mouth off him. “But I have better plans than coming in your mouth tonight. So get on the bed.”

He steps back with a tight fist around his dick. The sight knocks me off balance, and I stand up on shaky legs.

Walking over to the bed, I sit on the edge of it, feeling his eyes on me the whole way. There’s a warning in his gaze, and I know he plans on destroying me. But while I should be scared, I welcome the ruin.

I watch him cross the room, going to his dresser and grabbing something off it, before stripping himself naked and walking over to me.

Fully undressed, he still has so much power. Strength in his gaze, sureness in his movements. Maybe it’s his ink, devilish and taunting. Or maybe it’s his presence.

Owning me.

He stops in front of me. “On the bed.”

I press my hands behind me and do as he says, scooting back until I reach the headboard. Only then does he move, climbing between my legs and resting on his knees. His hand flicks, and I realize he’s holding a switchblade.

“Scared yet?” He grins, lowering the knife to the flesh of my thigh and running the flat edge along my skin.

I shake my head, even if I’m not sure that’s the truth.

He cocks an eyebrow and runs the cool blade of the knife up my thigh, slowly moving to the edge of my panties. He slips it under the band of my underwear, and in one smooth motion, he cuts through the lace and rips them off me.

“Those were expensive,” I say, not that I really care right now.

“And pretty,” he agrees. “But you don’t need to cover this pussy around me, so they were also unnecessary.”

Rome cups me and drives two fingers in. The sudden sensation of him hitting all the places I ache sends my brain into a tailspin. I throw my head back as he fingers me slowly, just enough to tease.

The flat edge of the blade is back on my skin, at my stomach, moving upward. I have to fight not to move so I’m not sliced by it. Something Rome makes more difficult as he presses the heel of his hand against my clit and drives his fingers in deeper.

“Fuck,” I exhale, as the blade grazes over my ribs.

“I like it when I can make your prissy mouth say dirty things.”

Rome smiles and it floods my heart because it’s not wicked or punishing, it’s genuine. He’s pleased with me—with us. And I want to please him.

Regardless of what he tells himself, I did hurt him by disappearing. But with each touch—each confession—it heals a portion of the pain.

The blade slips under the band of my bra, and I have to hold my breath so it doesn’t cut me. But it’s only there a second before he cuts that off my body, too. And before I can complain, he curls his fingers inside me and makes me see stars.

He folds the blade back inward before tossing it to the nightstand. At the same time, he pulls his hand out of me, and I groan at the loss of him.

“Don’t worry, baby.” He smiles. “I’m going to fill your pussy with something better.”

Rome takes my sliced bra from my body and slowly wraps the strap of it around one of my wrists.

“What are you doing?”

“You like to run, sweetheart.” He grabs my other wrist and brings it in to wrap the strap around it as well. “You like to disappear on me. And we aren’t going to be having any of that tonight.”

Dragging my bound hands over my head, he slowly ties them to a slat of wood on the headboard. When he pulls back to look at me, I try to tug, but all it does is tighten the grip of the straps around my wrist.

“You can fight all you want, but you’re not getting away.” His eyes roam my exposed body before him.

“Did the infamous Riff King just admit he wants to keep me?”

His eyes narrow, and he bites at the corner of his lip as he slowly moves his gaze back up to mine. “Guess we’ll have to see.”

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