Wicked Devil: Chapter 13

I don’t know what is going on between us. It’s like something has shifted, the air is charged and the tension thick. Roman’s muscular bronze chest is warm beneath my cheek and I find myself absently trailing the devil mask tattoo on his collarbone.

He sighs in contentment and pulls me closer. I’m certain it’s a subconscious reaction, because there’s nothing sexual about the touch at all. And despite the warning bells in my head, I’m not uncomfortable in his arms. In fact, I’m very comfortable. Like, this is where I belong. Right here in his embrace.

It’s not the platonic feeling with him the way it’s always been with Julio, however. I have stupid butterflies in my stomach and an ache in my core that has me clenching my thighs together. I don’t remember being this drawn to Ryker, as though I want to sink into his skin, share the air he breathes.

Maybe it is sexual.

It’s all so confusing. I barely know Roman Valdez, and what I do know paints him as an arrogant jerk. I shouldn’t be here with him. I shouldn’t let him hold me like this. But I am and no matter how many times I tell myself I need to leave, I stay.

The movie ends and Dominique quietly slips away to his room. Emilio hesitates like he wants to hang out some more but a single death glare from Roman sends him on his way.

Alrighty then. So much for having a buffer.

I stand up once they leave, feeling awkward and out of place. I have no idea what time it is but the commotion outside has quieted. It’s safe to assume most of my classmates have gone to bed or are in the process of doing so.

I fold the blanket we’d been using and place it on the back of the sectional before slipping my feet into my sneakers.

“What are you doing?” Roman asks, his arms folded over his chest and his legs spread wide.

Well, someone sure has a self-assured look on his face. I wish I knew what he was thinking. I feel like I’m about to do the walk of shame when I step outside the cabin door, yet we haven’t even done anything. Well, unless that kiss earlier counts.

“I was, uh, just getting ready to head out.” I shrug.

Roman clasps my hand and tugs me toward him. “Why?”

I bite my bottom lip. He tugs at my hand again, this time harder, and I stumble forward. He catches me and adjusts my weight so I’m straddling his lap, his face now only inches from mine.

I’m drawn into his dark brown gaze and heat pools between my legs. My core tightens and I feel his cock harden beneath me. I’m tempted to shift and rock against him but I don’t. I shouldn’t. I can’t.

“Why are you planning to leave, vanilla?”

With that one word, it’s like a bucket of water is dumped over me. “Why do you keep calling me that? What is your deal?” My voice is heated. I hate that he keeps making digs at me. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. But I don’t like him making fun of me.

He chuckles and my annoyance spikes. “I call you vanilla because…” he trails off with a grin.

I smack his chest lightly. “Come on.”

His smile widens into the devilish smirk I’ve quickly grown accustomed to seeing on his face. He leans forward to whisper in my ear, “It’s my favorite flavor.”

His breath heats the shell of my ear and I can’t fight the tingles that race up and down my spine. “Your favorite flavor?” I ask, confused.

He nuzzles me and murmurs, “Mmm…. Mexican vanilla. The sweetest taste there is.”

Oh. My. God.

He trails kisses along my neck, his hands digging into my hips before he pulls back.

“I…” I swallow hard. “It’s late. I’m supposed to stay in Aaron’s cabin.” At the mention of his name Roman growls, a deep throaty sound that leaves more liquid heat pooling between my thighs.

His eyes lock on mine for the briefest of moments before his lips come crashing down on my mouth, and then I’m drowning in him. His touch. His taste. I can’t seem to figure out up from down. All I know is that I want him. No. I need him.

My hips thrust forward and I grind against him. He groans and I want to hear that sound again, so, so bad. I press my core against him harder and swivel my hips. His fingers dig into me hard enough to bruise as he clutches me tight to his chest.

“What are you doing to me?” His voice is husky.

I have no answer for him so I kiss him again. I continue rocking against him, swallowing his groans as he greedily drinks down mine. The reality that one of the other guys can walk in on us at any moment doesn’t matter. All I can think of is how good he feels.

One calloused palm rises beneath my shirt and tugs down the cup of my bra. He pinches one hard peak and I cry out. It’s as if my nipple and clit are connected and I feel my release move closer, hovering just out of reach.

“Oh, God,” I gasp and try to move away. This is too much, too fast but Roman chases after me with his lips and I give in to him, too weak to shove him away. I trail my fingers over his bare chest, reveling in the feel of every dip and valley. He tugs my shirt up and I raise my arms, allowing him to pull it from me.

A quick motion at my back and the clasp on my bra comes free. It slips down my shoulders before Roman tugs it forward, discarding it somewhere to the side.

He drinks me in. His hungry gaze locks on my breasts. “So… fucking… beautiful,” he murmurs right before his mouth is on me. His lips wrap around my nipple and his tongue lashes at me as his other hand kneads my tender flesh.

I can’t take it. I writhe on top of him, pressing myself closer. Wishing there was nothing between us. I need to feel him inside of me. I need to feel something good. Something that can take all the pain and grief away. I know what I’m doing now and for a moment, guilt slams into me before I shove it aside.

I’m using him. But isn’t he using me, too?

With me still in his lap, Roman cups my rear and stands. I wrap my legs around his waist and allow him to carry me down the darkened hallway. I kiss his neck. His shoulder. I can’t stop touching him.

When we reach a closed door, he fumbles to open it and then steps inside and carries me to the large bed in the center of the room. He lays me down with surprising care and just stands there, looking down at me with wonder on his face.

The emotion worries me. I need whatever we’re doing right now to have boundaries.

“Roman?” I push up to my elbows and he cocks his head to the side, his eyes boring into mine. I lick my lips. “This … whatever this is … it’s just fun. Okay?”

Anger flashes for a split second and then it’s gone as though it’d never been there. An easy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he reaches for me, his hand trailing up my side to my face before gripping my jaw as he brushes his thumb along my lower lip. “I want you.” There’s an edge to his voice. It’s all I can do not to reach out for him, draw him closer. His hands move to the button on my jeans. “I want to fuck you. I want you to scream my name. And I want you to come on my cock.”

I suck in a shuddering breath.

“But I don’t do relationships, vanilla, so don’t get this twisted. I’m not a nice guy. Right now, I only want one thing from you and that’s access to your pussy.” As soon as my jeans are undone he slips a hand inside, sinking two fingers deep inside me.

I hiss.

The rational side of me knows this is a bad idea. He’ll hurt me. He’ll use me and toss me aside and no matter how many times I tell myself I’ll use him too, that this is a fair exchange, I know it isn’t. But I refuse to worry about that now.

Roman Valdez is like a drug and I’m desperate to get my fix, all the while praying I don’t develop an addiction after just one hit.

He slides out of me before hooking his finger in my jeans and panties and in one smooth motion, he whisks both of them off, and then I’m bare to him.

He groans again, his eyes hooded as he drinks in my naked form.

A hand runs up my thigh before pushing my legs apart, exposing my most intimate flesh to his hungry gaze. Instead of climbing onto the bed like I expect him to, he kneels down at the edge of the mattress, bringing his face eye level with my core.

Instinctively, I try and close my legs but his hands on either side keep me spread and open to him. “I’m going to kiss you,” he tells me and then begins trailing hot wet kisses along the inside of my leg. He bites the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, forcing me to stiffen and cry out from the unexpected sting. But then he’s laving his tongue over the small wound, kissing the slight pain away, and I relax in his hold again. When he gets close to my core he repeats the movements on my other thigh, taking his time. His teeth scrape against my skin and I’m panting now. A complete puddle as my limbs tighten in eager anticipation.

When his face finally comes back to my center, his eyes darken, drunk with need. He takes a deep breath, inhaling me before his tongue darts out and licks me back to front. My hips buck off the bed and I cry out at the sensations. Holy… wow.

After that one lick, Roman buries his face between my thighs. Licking, sucking, biting. Sensations tumble through me, too many to count and the next thing I know my release is thundering toward me. I’m so close. I can feel my release right there. And then, like breaking through a damn, it crashes through me. It’s like a tsunami I can’t escape, the fastest, hardest orgasm I’ve ever experienced, and I cry out with my release, screaming his name. “Roman.”

Then he’s on top of me. He’s removed his boxer briefs and his hard length is pressed against my lower stomach as he pulls my legs up on either side of him, nestling himself between me. He slides against my wet center and I tilt my hips back, widening my legs to grant him a better angle.

He rears back and curses. “Fuck.”

I startle and my eyes go wide. “What?”

He climbs off of me and runs a hand through his dark brown hair.

Humiliation sweeps through me and I jerk into a seated position, wrapping my arms around my chest to cover myself.

“Condom,” he bites out. Then he looks at me and his eyes narrow. “What are you doing?”

“I…” A blush warms my cheeks as he stands there in all his naked glory without a care in the world. “I… Ah…” I have no words.

He steps closer and leans down, kissing me hard and deep before biting my bottom lip and giving it a tug. My hands fall away from my breasts and I moan into his mouth.

He pulls back with a devilish smirk, “I’m getting a condom and then I’m fucking that tight little pussy of yours.”

I swallow hard. “O-okay,” I whisper, hating how unsure I sound. I brush loose strands of hair from my face and then his words slam into me. Condom. Oh my god. I almost had sex with him without one. What was I thinking?

He strides out of the room completely naked, only to come back seconds later with a square foil packet in his hands. He tears it open with his teeth, rolls it on his thick, hard length, and then is right back in front of me. He kisses me again and leans forward, pressing me back against the mattress.

“Ready for me?” he asks as he lines his cock up with my center. His eyes are hooded, his expression now serious.

“Yes,” I say, because right now the idea of him anywhere but inside of me gives me a panicky feeling. When the head of his erection nudges against my core, he locks his eyes with mine and he holds my gaze.

“I won’t be gentle.”

I nod in consent and with that one small motion, he’s slamming into me in a single hard, smooth trust. Stars explode behind my eyelids and I push my hips up to meet his, gasping at how full I feel. He lets out a string of curses. One hand tightens on my hip, pressing me down into the mattress as the other rests beside my head, bracing his body above mine.

“So fucking good, vanilla.”

I whimper his name and kiss the strong column of his neck, nipping playfully.

He slides out of me, slow and smooth before thrusting back inside, this time even harder. Deeper. I grab hold of his biceps, holding onto him like my life depends on it. His groans undo me.

He grips my jaw and slams his mouth down on mine, devouring me like he’s starved for my mouth. He kisses my lips, my neck, my shoulder, and then he’s thrusting hard and fast, not giving me a chance to catch my breath. His kisses grow more aggressive as he all but punishes my body. His hold on me is so tight I know I’ll have bruises in the morning and I don’t even care.

I’m on fire. Every cell in my body humming with greedy need and expectation. I can feel another orgasm building inside me and I offer no resistance.

A needy moan climbs up my throat, my body winding tighter and tighter. Oh my god. “I’m going to come again,” I pant.

Roman pulls out of me and I cry out at the loss of contact but then he’s flipping me over onto my stomach, pulling at my hips until my ass is raised high up in the air. Then he slams his cock back inside of me. This angle has him thrusting deeper almost to the point of pain. But it’s the best pain.

“Come for me, Allie. Come hard.” He tangles one hand in my hair, pulling my head back as far as it will go, my spine arches and my breasts thrust forward. My inner walls clench tight around him and my orgasm shatters around me. Colors explode like fireworks behind my eyelids. He feels that good. So, freaking good.

He begins driving himself harder into me, grinding his teeth with each savage stroke. “Mine,” he snarls, biting my shoulder like a wild animal. He fucks me raw and angry, pounding into me without mercy as though he’s exorcising his demons. My hands itch to touch him. To roam his muscular body. But I can’t in this position. All I can do is barely manage to hold on to my sanity as he fucks me like I’ve never been fucked before, effectively ruining me for anyone else who might come after him.

I scream his name again as my body locks up for the third time, my inner walls gripping him tight as I shatter, drowning in the waves of yet another release. I collapse face first onto the mattress, the sensations too much for my body to bear. His hands hold my hips back and he stiffens behind me, his body shuddering against mine with his own release before he pulls out, leaving me empty and aching.

His lips find my ear and he says, “My pussy. Got that? For as long as I want it.”

I want to deny him. To tell him to fuck off because he doesn’t own me, but at the moment, all I can manage is a grunt and I don’t even know if it’s in agreement or denial.

He tugs me into his arms, nestling me beneath his chin as we both struggle to catch our breath, and when I finally do manage to get my breathing under control, I decide not to address his statement. I can’t form the words let alone digest the meaning behind what he just said.

It’s possessive in the extreme.

After a few minutes pass, he gets up, leaves the room still gloriously naked, and disposes of the condom. He comes back with a warm washcloth and with surprising care he wipes away the remnants of my release from my thighs before tossing the washcloth in a dark corner of the room.

I consider getting up and leaving. Finding my clothes and heading for Aaron’s cabin. I shouldn’t stay here. It would send the wrong message. This is just fun. No strings. No emotions.

But when he tugs me toward the head of the bed and helps me slip beneath the covers, I resign myself to the fact that I don’t have it in me to fight him.

Neither of us says a word. Roman reels me in until I’m resting splayed across his chest, my ear pressed against his beating heart and the night melts away. My body slips into the first restful sleep I’ve had since my mom passed away.