Page 86 of From Rome, With Hate

Kneeling between my legs, he bends down to kiss me. It isn’t soft and gentle, it’s possessive and hungry, like he’s been waiting an eternity for me to say the words I just spoke out loud. Every kiss is a bandage. Every kiss is a stitch on our wounds. We’ve spent ten years working triage, doing whatever it takes to stop the bleeding, but these past eleven days have shown us how we haven’t been living. And only existing to survive isn’t a life at all.

My stomach flutters when he pulls his mouth from mine. He tears my shorts from my body before sliding back off the bed only to remove his sweatpants. Then he’s climbing his way back to me. With bent legs, he parts my knees, crawling to me with a hooded, starving gaze. With every inch he grows closer, he stops to plant a kiss on the inside of my thighs. His teeth graze my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I tilt my head back, gasping for breath.

The oxygen is completely sucked out of my lungs the second I feel him slide into me. He fills me to the hilt, slamming into me.

Once I’ve adjusted to his thickness, I look up at him. Both his hands are on either side of my head, pressing into my pillow. His dark hair hangs over his forehead, framing those blue eyes I’ve fallen in love with again and again.

Pressing a palm to the side of my face, he pulls his hips back and slams into me again.

My walls tighten around him, and a satisfied cry squeaks out of my throat. I feel him everywhere, all at once.

He leans down and kisses me, biting down on my lip as he pulls away with a growl.

I wrap my hands around his waist, dragging my nails over his skin, pulling my legs closer to my body, allowing him to go deeper. He picks up the pace, and I feel myself already getting close to my orgasm.

I make sure to catch his gaze when I say, “Tell me you love me.”

His expression falters for a moment. When he doesn’t immediately answer, I spin us back around, never breaking apart. I straddle him, lifting myself up and down. I take a few seconds to settle in the feel of me being on top of him now as I plant my hands on his chest and curl my fingers as my walls tighten around his cock.

“Oh, shit,” I pant, knowing I’m close. I stare into Rome’s eyes and repeat, “Tell me you love me.”

His eyes roam over my body as he moves his hands over my thighs and my hips, guiding me over his length. I roll my hips, heat blooming across my skin. My thighs clench, and my walls tighten as his hand slips between us again. But this time, my shorts aren’t in the way, and his fingers find my aching, wet clit immediately. I’m bursting already. Tiny fireworks spread down my arms and legs as he circles the bud.

Sitting up, he brings his face close to mine. His hot breath brushes across my mouth when he finally says, “I love you, Lark.”

I bite down on my lip and drape my arms around his neck. “Yes,” I hiss, unable to old back any longer. “Say it again.” I toss my head back, squeezing my eyes shut as my walls clench around him.

“I love you. Now, fucking come for me like a good girl.”

Immediately, my entire body bursts, my orgasm ripping through me. And when Rome’s arms wrap around me and he’s burying his face in my neck, biting down on my neck as his cock throbs inside me with his orgasm, I can’t stop smiling.

I don’t want it to end.

TWENTY-FOUR

ROME

Flashback

Julianna was the last one to hold her before they took her away.

She was swaddled in one of those hospital baby blankets. The one I’ve seen in movies. White with tiny blue and pink stripes. The blanket was ten times her size and swallowed her up. But the feeling I had when holding my own daughter was indescribable.

She had her nose. My eyes.

Besides Julianna, I’d never fallen in love with someone so fast. It felt as effortless as breathing.

But I’ve also never experienced this much pain and heartbreak. It’s raw and excruciating. A searing agony that won’t go away caused by holding your own child— one that never had the opportunity to draw their first breath or feel the love of the two people in the world who would have burned down the world to protect them.

It’s been three days since Julianna and I left the hospital without our daughter.

Five months into her pregnancy, she’d called me, panicked, saying she was in a debilitating amount of pain. We’d metoutside of the city and raced to the closest hospital we knew others wouldn’t be able to recognize us. Considering our marriage was a secret, we’d kept her pregnancy a secret as well. With only being five months along, it was easy for Julianna to conceal her growing stomach from our families. We’d agreed to tell them about us at the end of the month.

My plan was in place. I secured enough investments of my own outside of my father’s business dealings to build my own business empire. I slowly backed off accompanying him on his errands and, for the most part, he hasn’t questioned me. But that isn’t to say I haven’t come out unscathed.

Especially now that we’ve lost our daughter for inexplicable reasons.

These things happenis what the doctor said.