Page 42 of Beautifully Damned
“Busy?” I try again.
One word finally slips out.
“Yeah.”
I fix him a plate and place it in front of him, sitting beside him, shoulder brushing his. He picks up the fork, scoops a bite, and chews like he hasn’t eaten in days.
“You never skip meals, Roman. Why today?”
The fork stills halfway to his mouth. His eyes drop to the plate, like the answer’s buried beneath the food.
“Punishment,” he mutters.
“For what?” I screech.
“You don’t get that answer for free.”
I swallow hard. “What’s the cost?”
“That’ll cost more than a few kisses, little lamb,” he whispers.
God, I’m messed up. Because I want the answer…andI want the price.
I lick my lips. “I figured.”
He scoffs down the rest of the plate, pushes the plate away, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I squeal, laughter bubbling up as he throws me over his shoulder.
“Roman,” I gasp between giggles, “put me down—”
“Not a fucking chance,” he mutters, carrying me up the stairs. My laughter dies out slowly, replaced by the thrum of nerves and anticipation building with each step.
I know how scandalous this is. I’m not stupid. If anyone in the underworld evensniffedout what’s happening between us—if my father ever found out I laid with the enemy—it would be over. I’d be branded, disowned.
I know Roman could use this. Weaponize it. Lord it over my father’s head just for the thrill of it. But he also knows I won’t give him anything unless he gives me something in return. That’s our game. Sex isn’t off the table, because the tension between us is thick enough to choke on. We both want to burn it all out of our systems. But for that to happen, I need something from him. A secret. A piece of him. That’s the unspoken deal.
Yes, I like playing our little game because I want to understand him. I want to peel back the layers and see who the hell this man really is underneath all the control and cold rage. But I’m not playing along out of some starry-eyed fantasy alone. I’m doing it because I won’t be the only one with something to be held over the head with. I won’t be the only one who can be blackmailed. If he’s going to kiss and tell, we’ll both bleed for it. And Roman seems to want me enough to agree to those unspoken rules.
He kicks my door open with his foot and tosses me gently onto the bed. I stare up at him, heart hammering.
I was raised with the goal of marrying for alliance, for name, for honor. Four kisses. That’s all I’ve had to speak of at twenty-four years old. Three. Any person I would have tried to give myself to, would have ended up dead in a ditch somewhere. Mafia princess don’t sleep around. I wasn’t going to put anyone on my conscience for a bit of fun. That’s something I don’t have to worry about with the powerful Roman.
So, yes this is selfish, reckless too. But it might be theonlychance I have to give my virginity to someoneIchose. Not some man my father picked for me to marry. I’ll take what I can from the Bratva monster. And then I’ll go home. I’ll marry whoever my father says I will, and pretend to be the pure, innocent mafia princess the world expects me to be. I will only remember this night with my hands down my pants, or with a couple tears down my cheeks if these utterly stupid, still forming feelings for Roman don’t go away after tonight, if they don’t turn out to be the result of sexual tension alone.
I bite down the sharp twist of unexpected sadness in my throat and shove it deep, deep down where it can’t ruin tonight.
Because tonight is about Roman.
About losing myself in the arms of this tortured man.
And unraveling him, secret by secret.
Even if it destroys us both.
?Chapter XXVIII?
Ayla
Roman looms over me, tall and broad and terrifying in a way that makes my stomach twist. He could crush me with a single hand. And yet, for the first time in my life, I feel powerful.
