Page 30 of Forbidden Daddy
The sound that came out of him was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. A low, rumbling growl that sounded almost feral, like an animal trapped by the jaws of a hunter. His grip on my hips tightened, fingers digging into the soft flesh like he was struggling to keep me in place. Like this simple act of pleasure was something he wanted to prolong, control.
My tongue trailed along the light smattering of hair across his sternum, tasting salt and heat and something uniquelyhim. Further down, I found his rib cage, contoured, muscles covered in a fine sheen of sweat that made my mouth water.
I traced the lines of his body as if I were mapping some unknown continent, committing every inch of him to memory. How thefine hair of his chest transitioned into a thicker trail leading down to his?—
"Cassie," Roman’s voice cut into my thoughts, and it was a warning.
"Patience," I scolded softly, biting back a moan as my fingers skated down his six-pack.
The feel of him against my lips was sinful, exquisite. His cock jumped as I licked my way down his abdominal muscles, chasing that line of salty hair. So hard and swollen, still trapped by his slacks, the thickened base straining against the zipper.
I moaned in frustration when I couldn’t free it, fingers curling around the edge of his trousers.
Roman’s hand landed on mine, holding me in place. "You either take my cock into your mouth or move over and let me fuck you properly. But this teasing bullshit ends now, or I’ll walk away and finish this without you."
There was no venom in his words, nothing vicious about the way he held my gaze, but I still understood the boundaries he was drawing. Respectable women didn’t touch the cocks of men like Roman.
To prove I wasn’t like those other women, I tugged open his belt. He cursed as the leather separated from the clasp, practically ripping the rest of his clothing off. If I hadn’t known his body better, I would’ve thought he was rushing this to get to the main event. But I could see the muscles jumping in his abdomen, the tension pulling his shoulders taut.
He was resisting me.
What came next came naturally, so easily that I barely had time to think about what I was doing. Leaning down, I pressed my lips against the patch of curled black hair nestled below the sharp V leading to his cock, inhaling the earthy, masculine scent that was all him.
Roman growled again, the sound vibrating through me as my tongue flicked against the tip of his thick, pulsing member. Precum leaked into my mouth, heady and salty and sinful.
"Now, Cassie," he said, his tone making it clear that wasn’t a request.
I swallowed him deeper, moaning around him as the tip rubbed against the back of my throat. My cheeks hollowed, the faintest taste of copper bubbling in the back of my throat as he bruised the flesh there.
"Fuck," Roman gritted out, hand sliding into the loose curls framing my face and all the way to the back of my head, holding me still. I had only a sliver of a second to brace myself before he began thrusting his hips, fucking my face and mouth, using me to achieve his own end.
If I’d known any other man to compare him to, I would’ve known it was uncharacteristic, even rude. But with Roman, I savored every second of it. I liked that he was just as undone as I was, that I’d turned the poised and terrifying gangster into a shaking, sweating heap of panting desire.
He was close to the edge, I could sense it, but with another man, I would’ve had no clue what to do. But with Roman, my instincts guided me, urged me forward in this unfamiliar territory, pushing me closer to my own explosive peak.
Sliding a hand between my thighs, I flicked the soaked lace of my panties aside and slipped my index finger inside, moaning low around the thick shaft pumping in and out of my lips.
"Oh no, my beautiful girl," Roman groaned, his voice edging somewhere between warning and pleasure. "You don’t get to enjoy me while you play with yourself."
Before I could process what was happening, his hand was wrapped around my throat. The gesture was heavy, dark, possessive, but I didn’t even flinch. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, that his domination was a means to guide my attention where it needed to be.
"Get on your back," he commanded in a deep growl, and the moment his cock popped out of my mouth, I obeyed.
The contrast between him—coiled muscle, hardened strength—and me—slender and soft—was like the best and worst sins mixed into a bottle. The dark predator in his eyes made my stomach flip and heat pool low in my core as his presence dominated mine. I’d never felt smaller or more vulnerable.
"Mine," he whispered as he grasped my panties in his fist, inching them down my hips.
I almost lost it, right then and there, hearing him say that with no expectations or pretense. This wasn’t a warning, wasn’t a command, wasn’t even for him. This was a question. Did I submit to the ownership he was craving?
Lifting my hips, I helped him discard the only piece of clothing between us. The moment they were gone, Roman slid his large palms beneath my ass and tilted my hips upwards, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. His cock ground against my entrance, almost slipping in.
"Tell me to fuck you," he growled, more command than request.
"Fuck me, Roman," I panted, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders.
One brutal thrust, and he was buried deep within my tight, soaking wet channel.
My reaction was immediate and uncontrolled. Feeling that enormous length pushing into me, straining against my cervix with excruciating perfection, and just knowing what was to come was almost enough to send me crashing over the edge.
