He’d left a note for me that morning.
Notes weren’t my thing.
Not anymore.
I’d only ever gotten two. One from Rome telling me he’d never write me again—which was ironic now that I held another one of his notes in my hand—and the other . . .
The other one was from the only other person I’d ever loved. It was a bad one, a deadly one. One that made me want to lie down and die with him.
My mood soured. The man better wake me up next time he was going to leave me for hours on end.
Plus, the note wasn’t even good. There weren’t any hearts or balloons or our names scribbled next to each other.
I’ll be back in a couple hours. The cabinet next to the bookshelf has food.
Rome
PS Do you think Cleopatra was ever kidnapped?
PPS Books written by Poe are on that shelf if you want to read.
By food, he meant granola bars and apple juice. My stomach growled in protest when I’d eaten three and still felt starved.
When I heard footsteps in the hallway, I sat up in the bed. I chucked one of the bars at his head as he walked in.
“What the fuck, Katie?” He swerved to try and balance the tray he had in his hands.
“That better be something better than the shit you left me,” I said, wiggling a little too excitedly at seeing him with food. I needed real nourishment after the night we’d had together. Plus, I’d been left by myself for hours, naked in a bed that smelled like him. I’d had a bit too much fun with that, honestly.
He set the tray down on the nightstand. “I cooked you macaroni and chicken. You’re welcome. Because I don’t cook.”
I kept the sheet close to my body as I stretched for some of the food. He sat on the edge of the bed and surveyed me.
“Um . . .” I started. “Did you season it?”
“Season what? The macaroni?” he asked, one brow lifted.
I groaned and fell back into the pillows. “I’m starving, Rome. Bastian used to cook me gourmet meals, and now I’m being subjected to this?”
“That’s good food, woman. I cook just as good as Bastian. Try it.”
I scooped up one spoonful of macaroni and almost choked when it hit my mouth. I tucked the sheet farther under my arms to cover the fact that I hadn’t got dressed yet, which was through no fault of my own. Rome had left me with a ripped dress and nothing else. “So, I appreciate you making me macaroni and cheese, Rome, I really do. But this isn’t edible!”
“Are you kidding me?” He looked so offended I almost took back what I’d said.
Then I glanced down at the slop in the bowl. The cheese had curdled around crunchy noodles, and the butter hadn’t completely melted. I tried not to laugh at his poor attempt to cater to me while I was essentially his prisoner. “So far, I’ve got no clothes and the worst food on the planet. And I’m confined to a secret room. Should we do a comparison between you and Bastian now?”
“Compare me to all the men you want, baby.” He stood up and stalked toward the door. “I know how to make you scream in the dark of the night. There’s no comparison to that.”
My pussy clenched at his words. I immediately wanted to call him back to the bed, tell him to forget the food and forget my complaining.
He’d already slammed the door behind him, though. I heard the loud thwack of the deadbolt locking.
I sat there, no clothes on, completely turned on, with a plate of inedible food.
None of my needs had been met.
Fucker.
I rolled to the side to place the food back on the nightstand and wondered if Bastian and the boys had started the hunt for me. Did they already know Rome was keeping me here? And why was I the center of everyone’s attention?
I was just the bait.
I’d pulled enough intel on the government and the bratva for them to want me dead, though.
A few minutes later, Rome swung open the door and entered with large T-shirts and athletic drawstring shorts. He threw them on the bed. “You’re starving, and I’m starved for you. Get dressed before I take advantage of you without letting you get any nourishment.”
I glared at him. “I like being naked.”
“You like being a brat,” he threw back and turned to leave again. “Get dressed.”
“For what?” I countered but scrambled across the bed to pull a T-shirt on. I left the shorts untouched. “I’m not going anywhere. And where are you going? I’m bored as hell in here.”
He growled. “I’m getting you edible food.”
The door slammed shut again. I got out of bed and ran to the bathroom. I pulled my hair up into a bun and splashed some water on my face. I’d never look decent without makeup and hair creams. I rummaged through his drawers and found deodorant and a toothbrush. I used them both in the hopes I could remain somewhat presentable for the next two days.
I smirked at the fact that I wasn’t at all dolled up for him, wasn’t putting on a show for him, and still he was running back and forth for me.
Being a prisoner had its perks, I guess.
When I reentered the room, he’d placed our food on the carpet and was lying on his side across the floor, staring at me in the bathroom door. “Fuck me,” he groaned and wiped a hand over his face.
I sat down cross-legged across from him and looked in the brown paper bag. “What are you moaning about over there?”
He rolled onto his back and turned his head to smile at me. It stretched across his face, and the deep chocolate brown of his eyes sparkled. “All I want to eat is you, in my shirt, right now. Clothes were supposed to help.”
I glanced down and saw his cock was standing at attention underneath his sweats. I pulled his white tee between my legs, but it wasn’t really any use. I crawled on all fours around our food. His gaze was locked to me. I arched my back and made each movement languid. I felt myself get wetter and wetter. By the time I reached his side, I was ready for him.
We didn’t say one word to each other. He’d put his hands behind his head and stared up at me, like he was prepared to sit back and watch.
I wanted him to.
I lifted his shirt just a bit around my hips and straddled him. I shoved his pants down and let the length spring free.
No prep was needed for either of us. I dropped down on him hard, and we both gasped. My hands went to his neck for leverage. He flexed under me, meeting me stroke for stroke.
I squeezed harder and harder as I rode him faster and faster. He grabbed my hips and rammed me down on him over and over again. Later, I’d see the bruises where his fingers had imprinted on me.
Fast, hard, and untamed, I took the orgasm I needed. I dominated him and it. I loosened my hands and let air back in his lungs as I hit my high. My pussy convulsed around him as he gulped in a breath, and he came in me on his next thrust.
I crumbled around him, knowing this home on top of him, around him, with him in me, was the only place I’d ever really need to be.
He smoothed my hair up toward my bun and sucked on my neck, murmuring, “I’m scared I might want to be a prisoner in here with you forever.”
I smiled against him. “You’d get nervous sleeping next to me.”
He stiffened like my comment hurt him. “Why would you think that?”
I pulled back from him, slid off, and went to the bathroom to clean up. “Rome, you don’t trust anyone with your life. I bet you never sleep next to women.”
The idea of him next to another woman sliced through me. I reached for the matte black handle of the shower, and immediately, hot water from a large round showerhead fell like rain into the open tiled area. I didn’t give myself time to enjoy the luxury of it all. I threw the shirt to the side and jumped right under the water, closing my eyes to let it run over me. I wanted it to wash away the reminder that outside of these walls, Rome wasn’t as accessible to me and much more accessible to other women. They were less complicated, less tied to the family.
“I don’t sleep next to women because I’m not fucking other women.” He stepped in behind me and pulled me against his stomach. His hand went straight to my breast like he couldn’t keep from touching me. “You’re the only one I’m thinking about, so you’re the only one I’m fucking. We were past others after Bastian. Right?”
I moaned when he pinched my nipple and whispered, “Yes.”
“Don’t you realize the pull you have on me?”
My head fell back as he massaged my nipple. “We don’t have to indulge it.”
“This isn’t indulgence. It’s obsession, Katalina. It’s you consuming me. It’s you bound to me. It’s your face on my mind since the first moment I saw you.”
He turned us toward the vanity and mirror. It was fogging up, but I saw his massive body behind mine, how his tattooed arms wrapped around me, how he focused on only me.
I looked up at him. “You’ve haunted me as much as I haunted you, Rome. You’ve been in the worst of my dreams and nightmares.”
“Then, I better find a way to make it into the best of them too, huh?” His head dipped down to bite my neck.
His hand trailed down my stomach and slid right into my pussy. The water droplets seared our skin with heat, the steam invaded our lungs, and my panting could be heard all around us. He hooked one of my legs up around his arm so that his fingers fucking me were bared to us both in the mirror.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmured into my hair. “Fucking mine.”
I came at his words, at seeing myself so open and free and in complete ecstasy in his arms.
He let me ride it out and then got to his knees. He hooked my leg on his shoulder and told me to hop up.
“Rome, I don’t think I can keep going.”
“Baby, look at yourself in that mirror. You can do whatever you set your mind to.” Then his mouth was on me, and I held on for dear life. He ate me out like he was ravenous, and I like to think that appetite was for only me.
