Page 97 of Twisted Little Game

Why is he saying that?

He can’t…

Fuck, he can’t say things like that to me.

Using words like forever.

“Quit saying things you don’t mean,” I murmur against his lips right before his tongue slides out again, pushing slow and slick against my own.

He lets out a low moan, rutting his cock against my stomach again. “I never say things I don’t mean. You like the way I feel… the way I hurt you… the way I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to give it to you for as long as you need it.”

“God,” I whisper.

“You need me. I feel it radiating from every fucking part of you, baby.”

I exhale as I pull on the bindings around my wrists, tugging as if it’s going to get me anywhere. “You can’t call me that.”

He sucks a slow trail of kisses up my neck. “Would you rather I just call you mine?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“Attitude, Tate.”

My breath hitches, and the sensation of him grinding his goddamn cock along mine, trapping my cock between us, is too good.

“Fuck me or you’re going to make me come too fast. God, fuck, Roman, that feels too good⁠—”

He bites down on my earlobe and I hear him let out a low, deep sound, something between an exhale and a goddamn growl right against my ear.

His arms are still hitched below my ass, physically pulling my whole body up against his.

It’s far too easy for him to do this. He may as well be double my size, surrounding me, giving me friction in exactly the right goddamn place and I can feel my cock pulse against him, driving me fucking insane…

“You fucking need me,” he murmurs against my ear and thrusts his hips against me even harder, reaching a new height of sensation I didn’t think was possible.

I feel his skin pressing against the searing marks he left on me.

His teeth, on my earlobe, and then moving lower until his mouth claims mine again.

And his cock against mine, stroking over me until I’m throbbing against his touch.

“I’m going to come,” I whisper into his mouth as he takes my lower lip between his teeth.

“You are. And then you’re going to get fucked, and come again for me.”

“Fuck,” I utter as I lose control, spilling between our bodies, the friction cresting the wave inside me until I explode.

Roman says something in Russian and it sounds low and fucking beautiful and I hate it, I hate that he has so much power over me and it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life.

He’s so right.

I need him, and I’m useless in the face of it.

No one is ever going to feel this good.

His scent.

His gaze.