Would my heart be able to even take it?
She seems unable to form words for a minute, which is so terrifying I nearly forget to breathe, but eventually, she nods, and that’s all I need.
We sit in near silence. I pour wine, offer her cheese, give her some more wine when her glass is empty, and realize that this will not be the picnic I wanted or deserved
Roman refuses to look away from us, and I think about the dark fact that someone’s coming for me. Do I want to be that guy that regrets everything while looking down the barrel of a shotgun?
Nope.
Never.
I want to go out feeling the way I felt when I had her in my arms, when my hands were on her breasts, her legs wrapped around my body.
My moves are quick as I grab her and toss her onto her back against the picnic blanket. “I’m going to love you.”
“Wh-what? Right here?”
“Meh, where else?” I tease with a grin.
She pales.
I don’t care because I’m not here to hurt her. I’m here to love her. I’m here to save her.
“Hey, Roman,” I call, my face close to hers, “can you grab us some more champagne?”
He stares me down, the way someone would look at a person ready to steal everything you’ve ever wanted and smile about it. “Sure, boss.”
I know that gives us maybe five minutes? Ten tops, but I don’t care; I just need her here with me.
I need us.
The minute he disappears, I attack in the best way possible with all the best moves possible, in all the best places possible. Damn, I have a fucking outline in my head of all the places I want to touch and taste.
She glances up at me, her eyes uncertain as I shove her backward farther against the blanket we’re both sitting on.
I shove up the bottom of her sundress past her thighs; she’s wearing a cute white thong I want to lick then eat just for pleasure.
I tug at it with my teeth, pulling it to the side, and then my tongue hits her lips, her core, I find her heat, and I relish the sensation of my heart pulsing with it. She’s so ready for me with her body, even if she doesn’t say it with her words. I could eat her all day and still starve to death.
She squirms but doesn’t pull away.
“Yessss,” I say, her thighs tremble around my head, squeezing me tight the way I’m licking her tightness, wishing my dick was the one making her full.
She starts to shake.
“Not yet,” I say. “I haven’t finished my picnic yet.”
“We just ate—”
“Nah, you just ate; I’m only beginning,” I tease.
She throws her head back and lets out a nervous laugh while I start my assault, while I kiss her, suck her, make sure she remembers I’m the only man who can make her feel this way.
Her taste is mine.
It feels like it’s mine, not his.
And I want him to know it, even when he’s not here, I want him to hear it, hear how much she wants me, not him, me in this moment.
I shove her back onto the blanket and cover her body with mine, my mouth riding hers in a way that has my dick so hard I can barely concentrate. She’s so warm, so slick, so perfect, almost like she’s squeezing my tongue like the would my cock, and I can’t get enough of it.
“Wow, King, I can’t—”
“Who do you worship!” I demand with a rasp.
“What?”
“Who…” I shove my tongue in deeper and swirl it around her wetness. “Do…” I go deeper still. “You…” Fuck, she’s basically weeping for me. “Worship?”
Her body falls apart as she whispers, “You.”
“Yes,” I whisper against each creamy thigh. “Yes.”
I look up moments later, becoming livid when I realize Roman’s back, and he’s fucking watching us, his eyes uncertain, burning with rage.
Am I upset he heard? No.
Am I upset he watched? Fuck, yes.
She’s mine.
MINE!
I want to both cover her up and hold her close. I’ve been respectful—until now until he pushed that line and forces me to cross it.
He stares at me while my body is still covering hers. Does he realize how hard this is? How hard I’ve worked to create a balance between me, him, her, this crazy scenario where in the end, he wins?
I want to rage, but instead, I just pull back and regard him, my eyes hard with unmasked fury.
“Back to work.” I bite out.
He takes a minute, nods, then turns his back, and I wonder just how much he saw, how much he heard. And the anger is back full force again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Don’t ever let anybody teach you to think, Lance. It is the curse of the world.”-King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table
Roman
I’m still in stunned disbelief when I get back to that hotel room. I knew that they were together. I knew that it was part of the bargain, but to actually hear it and see it for myself up front and personal —I have no words.