Archive of Our Own ^beta

Have you ever felt like you're stuck in an eternal revolving door, and then suddenly you're standing still? That was my life right now; I was standing still with Roman. We had only gone out on a few dates, sure— but I couldn't help but feel that something was different this time. This was a guy I felt like I could finally settle with. Four hour long conversations could feel like fifteen minutes, and the fact that he was the CEO of his own company also added on as a bonus; my life with him would be a life of comfort. Amazing sex and comfort.

I let out a satisfied sigh as my friends and I finally got up from our dinner table; dinner was good, life was good, my relationship was good. What was there not to like? We continued exchanging jokes at the expense of some girl we suddenly remembered from high school, reminiscing, and I had to take a step back; I couldn't believe how amazing my life was at the moment.

As I felt one of my friends nudge me, I blushed, letting out a nervous laugh as I realized I had disconnected from the previous conversation. "Sorry, girls, I've just been so swept up with Roman—"

"Yeah, we know," One of my girlfriends grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around so that I was facing the other end of the restaurant. "But isn't that him?"

They were right; at the other end of the restaurant, sat Roman. With a woman with legs for days. Laughing. I froze, not knowing what to say or do— he hadn't noticed me yet and was probably not going to, by the rate he was checking out the woman in front of him. 

"Come on, let's go," said another friend, taking my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He's not worth it, really."

I hated the pity in her voice. I hated everything about this. But me being me, I knew I had to either let it slide or retaliate— and obviously, I'd choose the latter.

I got out of my friend's grip, making my way over to his table with confident strides, shaking off the shock in my system. I watched as Roman's green, charming eyes suddenly found me, rounding out. It was clear that he was trying to save face as he suddenly broke out into a slight chuckle, looking rather intrigued as I approached.

I smiled politely, now standing in front of him. "Roman, what a surprise!" I did my best to sound as casual possible and not like my heart was being kicked and spat at. 

"Surprise indeed!" he said, smiling right back up at me with no shame. "This is Cynthia, by the way." 

Had we not been in public, I would've hit his head with my purse. Instead, being the calm and collected woman I masked myself to be for now, I turned to Cynthia, shaking her hand as we got introduced. I wanted nothing more than to run away and wash my hands. 

With a cool demeanour, I turned to Roman; "Could we talk?"

He cleared his throat, clearly not too happy about the interruption. "Sure," he mumbled, sending Cynthia a charming smile as he got up, following me a few steps away from the table.

"What's this?" I said, letting my smile fall just a smidge. "A date?"

Roman cocked his head to the side, scanning me. "Sure is,"

"... You said you had a business thing,"

"A dinner thing," Roman protested, making the difference clear. 

"Oh, is that right?" I took a proper look at him; suited up, hair styled back, smelling like his usual date-cologne. Had this been any other instance, I would've jumped him already. However, there is nothing I wanted more than to smack him and run away crying. "So how many women are you dating, exactly?"

Roman shrugged; "In the tristate area?"

My jaw fell, shocked. I knew we weren't exclusive and I tried to remind myself of that, but I had my pride to protect. If I would date anyone else right now, it would feel like stuffing an already packed luggage— I didn't want to, nor could I. So how could he?

Roman sighed, glancing back at his date before turning back to me, putting a patronizing hand on my shoulder; "Look, I'm a little busy, but I'll give you a call. Alright?"

Angered, I smacked his hand off of me. I refused to be treated this way. "Call all you want, but don't expect an answer. Good night, Roman," I took a sharp turn on my heel, my eye twitching as I held back the urge to burst into tears. 

As I reached my friends again, I was immediately embraced as we left the restaurant together. 

"He looked shellshocked, my God!" one of them said. "What did you tell him?"

I sniffled; "Not to call me anymore. I'm not going to deal with this bullshit,"

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My phone had rung about seventeen times and I was itching to answer. I laid in my bed that same night, a small tear rolling down my cheek; why did I always do this to myself? Why did I get so swept up in every man I met? I tried to make myself feel better by concluding I wasn't like this with every man— Roman was an exception. Roman was different.

But Roman was also an ass.

I groaned, watching another call come in. I had enough of this. Deciding to take action, I finally answered his eighteenth call; "Roman, I am only answering to tell you to stop calling!—"

"Just hear me out!" he said. "Just... Just hear me out, okay? Could you do that for me?" 

Groaning, I buried my face in my pillow, going quiet as I put my phone on speaker next to me. 

My silence told him everything he needed. "Look, I didn't know you thought we were exclusive. I should've gotten that cleared up, perhaps—"

"I thought that was obvious," I grumbled into my pillow.

A sigh; "Maybe it was. And maybe I'm just about the biggest jerk in Pennsylvania. Anyway, I'm calling to say sorry. I really thought you were dating other people as well,"

I lifted my head up from the pillow. "And that wouldn't bother you?" I pondered out loud. "If I went out with someone else?"

This is where Roman went quiet. "Well, it's not the most pleasant thought... I suppose I've dulled it down by seeing other people,"

Somehow, I didn't buy it. "Did you sleep with them?"

"Who?"

"All the women with stupidly long legs in the tristate area,"

I heard a loud sigh on the other end; "I thought you were sleeping with others too,"

"Yeah, right," I sat up in my bed, taking the phone off speaker mode and pressing it up against my ear. "This is not how I roll, Roman, and you know this. If you need loose girls to sleep with, have your pick at anyone else, I don't care. I was dead serious about you, about us, and you just... Yeah, screw you. Have a nice life."

I heard him protest as I finally ended the call, burying my face back into my pillow, muffling a scream. 

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The next night, I had decided to go out and bury my mind in whatever cheap alcohol I could find. I stepped away from my friends at the party, making my way back to the bar for the third time tonight, not dull enough for my liking yet. 

Sighing, I sat down at the bar, ordering the usual. I hoped that the next drink would drown out all thoughts of Roman Godfrey, his green eyes, the image of him between my legs, and the image of Cynthia and her legs. I should've listened to my friends when they said he only dated models— why had he even looked at me in the first place, bothered me by entering my life and just existed in my vicinity? 

Asshole.

As I finally got my drink, bringing it up to my lips, the man next to me spoke up; "I don't think you should have another one of those,"

Turning to face him, I wondered where I had seen him before. "... Peter?"

I remembered Peter from the time we interned at the law firm together. He quit a while ago, but not before he had managed to kiss the life out of me in the elevator that one evening. A bright smile spread across my face as I put my drink down, embracing him. "Oh, Peter, it's so nice to see you!"

Peter, dressed in black as usual, beamed right back at me, his hand resting on my back. "I've been wondering if it was you all night," he said, pulling away from the hug with a chuckle. "You look good."

I did a little twirl, giggling— maybe the alcohol was finally getting to me, after all. "You think?"

Amused, Peter nodded; "As always,"

I sat down on my chair with a satisfied sigh. "I can't believe you're back in Pennsylvania," I said, taking a sip of my drink. "What brings you back?"

"Nothing special, really," Peter gave me a look, but didn't say anything about the fact that I was continuing to drink. "Just nice to take a trip back home. To see a familiar face in the crowd. You'll get it once you get out of here, yourself." 

I shook my head; "I'm not moving,"

"Why not?"

"I don't know," I used to have a good reason before I caught Roman with Ms. Long Legs. "I'm doing good at the firm. And guys here are prettier than in any other state I've been in."

Peter chuckled, rolling his eyes; "I see you're still single,"

His words made my heart sink. "It seems I am," I took a rather big sip of my drink, hating that I was right back to square one again. "I thought I'd be in a different place by now, I suppose. I don't get what I'm doing wrong."

Peter moved closer, giving me a sigh of empathy. "You always go for the bad guys," he mumbled. "The unavailable ones. Am I right, or was this only when you were an intern?"

Embarrassed, I nodded; "I guess," 

Peter watched as I took another sip of my drink, finally getting enough of it; he put his hand over mine, gently forcing the drink back down on the table, his hand lingering on top of mine. "I'm a nice guy,"

My eyes widened, finally meeting his gaze. Was this going the way I thought this was going? I watched his pupils expand, the brown in his eyes shimmering with hope. "Give me a chance," Peter said. "Us. The chance we should've had all those years ago."

I held my breath-- I wanted to give in, relent.

"Come to my place tonight," he continued, his thumb stroking over my knuckles. "Let me treat you right, for once."

I was so close to giving in, saying yes and settling for something good for my soul. However, my heart was screaming— I couldn't do this while I was still crazy about Roman fucking Godfrey, the biggest asshole on the planet. The asshole who got me flowers before every date, brought me coffee to my work when he was free, gave me the best orgasm I had ever had in my life in the back of a cab, and bought me a fucking Birkin when he went to Venice. 

"I—" I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe. This was Peter; I didn't want to hurt the sweetest guy I had ever known. Before I could give him an answer, I needed an answer for myself; "Hold that thought, Peter, I'll be right back."

I got up, making my way to the outskirts of the party with hurried steps. Finally drunk enough for this stunt, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialling the guy I had sworn to myself I would never call again; "Roman?"

I didn't have to see him to know he was smirking. "Hey you,"

Beaming at the sound of his voice, I felt the hurt in my soul being mended by the second. I had craved this all day, every minute, every second. However, I knew I had to pull myself together. "I'm just calling to let you know I'm going home with someone else tonight,"

"... Are you drunk?"

I huffed, offended despite the correct guess. "Am not!" 

"So this loud music is just something you play in your room at three in the morning?"

I had to do everything in my power to not hit myself. "I'm calling to say that you screwed up,"

A sigh; "Where are you?"

Grimacing, I wondered why he wanted that information. There was no way in hell I'd give it to him, anyways. "His name is Peter. He's super sweet, we used to work together, and he doesn't need me to have long, model legs,"

"... I like your legs,"

I rolled my eyes; of course he'd say that. 

"Quite frankly, I miss your legs... dearly,"

Doing my best to not become a puddle of mush on the floor, I had to shake my head to come to my senses. "Well, good luck missing them, because they'll never be anywhere near you again!"

Roman got silent at the end of the phone, clearly moving around wherever he was at the moment. "I'm coming. Where are you?"

I glanced back at the party, scanning my surrounding. To be frank, I wasn't so sure. "Somewhere near Clifford Park," My eyes widened-- had I just blurted that out?

"Clifford Park," he echoed. I heard the jangling of keys and the shuffling of what I could only deduct were jackets. "Meet me at the front gate."

"No, I'm leaving with Peter," I said, sticking to my plan despite how hard my heart was beating at the thought of Roman racing to meet me.

"Yeah, sure you are," I heard a door close on the other end. "Fifteen minutes. Be there."

Realizing he had ended the call, I did a small jump of glee before pulling myself together. It suddenly dawned on me what I had roped myself into.

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It hit me that I was in Clifford Park at half past four in the morning. Having waited nearly half an hour, leaving the party behind, I started feeling more and more like a fool. Why had I agreed to this? Peter was definitely right; I always went for the wrong guys.

I was about to leave and get a cab until I saw a familiar silhouette in a long, dark coat nearing me. 

"This is not the front gate," Roman said, walking towards me like he didn't have a care in the world, hands tucked into his pockets. His voice had a hint of frustration, which only made me further upset.

"It is!" I said, wrapping myself further up in my jacket. "This is the front gate!"

"No, this is the back,"

"It isn't!" I let out a big huff, my eyes narrowing as he finally caught up to me, his face illuminated by the lamp we were standing under. The hues of orange and black complimented him, the green in his eyes practically sparkling. 

Despite being breathless by the sight of him, my angered pride simmered in my chest; "I have been waiting for you for half an hour,"

Roman let out a groan, clearly frustrated as well; "I came about fifteen minutes ago, spent ten minutes waiting for you at the front gate, and then finally came all the way around here after having an unexpected jog in hopes of not finding you killed on the curb,"

Taken aback, I shut down the upcoming trail of curses. He had... worried about me? "Why are you here?" I finally asked. "Why did you come?"

Roman ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed. I was pleasantly surprised to see him like this— hair not styled, dressed in casual wear, lips parted as he tried to find the right words. "There's been a big misunderstanding,"

"Clearly,"

Roman nodded to himself, his gaze falling down to his feet. "I thought this was casual,"

This was not what I wanted to hear. Still a little drunk, I started to turn around, ready to walk away from him. I didn't have the energy to waste any more time on him than I already had. 

However, Roman simply followed; "And where do you think you're going in those heels?"

"Anywhere," I mumbled. "I don't want to hear this again."

"You're not even going to hear me out?" he said, a hint of a whine in his voice. "After I came to see you at half past four in the morning in a random park? How often do you think I do this, huh?"

I stopped, feeling my feet ache from the heels. He had a point. I turned around with a hardened gaze, meeting his, my heart beating hard in my chest. 

Roman took my silence as a means for him to speak; "Look, I'll come clean. I've been going out with others, sleeping with others, and I've been doing it to dull down the ache I get when I think of you doing the same,"

I blinked twice. "That doesn't make any sense,"

"Yeah... maybe it doesn't," Roman sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. "I'm just used to the girls I'm dating still... dating others, I suppose. I couldn't even bring myself to think you'd be different about it, I just thought that this was how the world worked. Like, imagine I ask for exclusivity and you just... run?"

"I wouldn't run," I took in his every word, not meeting his eyes anymore. I couldn't look at him when he looked so pretty. "I thought I was clear that you were the only one for me.”

There was a twinge of hurt on display in Roman's eyes; "I thought that was just something you told everyone..."

Sighing, I couldn't believe the conversation we were having. How was it possible for such a successful man to be so unsuccessful in his deductions? "And the flowers? Is that also something you give everyone?"

"No,"

"Who else did you bring coffee to while they were at work?"

"No one,"

I finally looked back up at him, my pulse rising as a sliver of hope returned to my body. Why should I believe him? God, how I wanted to.

Roman took a step towards me; "You think my position at my company allows me to run coffee errands everywhere?"

I shrugged— I had no idea.

"You think it's easy to get a Birkin, let alone multiple?"

Embarrassed, I looked away again. I didn't need him to know how little I knew about Birkins. 

Roman sighed, running his hand through his soft, brown hair once more. "I've been driving myself crazy about you, y'know? Have you ever had the feeling that you've been... Fuck, I don't know how to properly explain, but like... have you ever felt like you're in an eternal revolving door and then suddenly you're standing still?"

My head turned to him as though I had heard a gunshot. "I have,"

Roman put his hands back in his pockets, chewing his lip. It was clear that he was anxious— I hadn't seen him like this before. Ever. "I'm so tired of running. I'm so tired of others. I just... want to stand still. With you,"

I bit down my growing smile. This was all I had ever wanted to hear. "Even when it's half past four and the standing takes place at Clifford Park?"

Roman let out a slight chuckle; "Especially when it's in Clifford Park,"

"The best place in the world," I said, feeling remnants of happy tears start to poke through my exterior. "Definitely not the third most dangerous park in the state."

"Yeah, fuck," Roman broke out into a smile, his laugh being pure music to my ears. "Let's stand still somewhere else. What do you say about standing still outside the coffee shop until it opens?"

Suddenly, I didn't feel so doomed anymore. I didn't need to start from square one again-- this was it. We both knew it now. "Sounds good,"

Roman hummed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we started our stride. He leaned down to press a kiss against the top of my head; "I missed you. I don't ever want to miss you again,"

 

I didn’t take Roman for a liar until recently. 

Because up until now, everything had been perfect these past few months; I’d spend every Saturday at his place, sleeping next to him, having breakfast with him, and then taking our routine stroll through Clifford Park just for the shits and giggles. I loved that more than anything in the world— At one point, I had to stand on the look-out for park patrols, holding my laugh while he etched our initials into the lamp we had stood beneath that night we became official. 

Our time together had been incredible so far. He had taken me out on elaborate dinners, and then refused to let me get out of bed the next morning before twelve because of his new ‘closeness-rule’; “I’m not detaching from you until noon,”

And who was I to say no? Especially not when it felt this good.

Now that I had his undivided attention, was the centre of all his affection and his designated person to call at midnight, I felt like I was floating. 

Up until last week.

Roman had showed up on my front door with his signature smirk to pick me up for dinner, dressed in his classic Armani suit, hair styled back. “Ready to go?”

I couldn’t help but smile, getting up on my tippy-toes to kiss his cheek— I was always so damn happy to see him. “Yeah, I just have to grab my shoes. Come in,”

A soft blush became apparent in Roman’s cheeks, stepping into my apartment as I disappeared back into my room. “The place is right around the corner, so don’t stress,” 

“Yeah, I know!” I said from the other room, rummaging through my collection of shoes. “We could stay at my place tonight, actually, so we don’t have to grab a cab to yours! Thoughts?”

Roman hummed, leaning against the wall in the hallway. Something told me he wasn’t so into that idea.

I stopped in my tracks, grabbing a pair of shoes before I came back out. "... No?”

Roman ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a slight chuckle. “I don’t know, I just… I like my bed,”

I couldn’t help but feel confused, but I brushed it off— maybe this was just a Roman quirk I hadn’t seen yet? It was probably not that deep. Right? Shrugging, I put on my shoes, grabbing my keys and my purse on the dresser. “Alright...? Cab fare’s on you, then, because I lent the rest of my spare cash to a friend earlier—“

In a swift motion, Roman snaked his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him as I yelped in surprise. He let out a warm chuckle at the look on my face, leaning down to capture my lips in a sweet kiss. “Either we get going now, or I eat you for dinner. I’m fucking starving,”

Giggling, I pulled him in for another kiss. “Fine. I’ll be dessert, then,”

Roman let out a satisfied sigh against my lips, excitement shimmering in his green eyes as he grabbed my hand, leading me out of the apartment.

However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something weird was going on. As he led me through the restaurant with a hand on my back, I realized this was the moment where the wheel in my head had started to turn. Even as we sat down to eat, the question of why he didn’t want to stay over at my place started gnawing at me. 

I had all my things at my place— My makeup, my shampoo against frizz, my clothes. I always had to walk around with my stuff if I was planning to sleep over at Roman’s place, feeling a bit like a nomad because... he hadn’t given me a drawer at his place yet. 

The mind-wheel continued to turn; why hadn’t he offered me a drawer? We had been official for months. For a man that was so damn adamant about being okay with a committed relationship, the more I thought about it, the more I started to see the cracks in the facade. Was he inadvertently telling me he didn't want to be in a commitment anymore?

Roman’s voice brought me back to reality; “What?”

Fuck. Had I been so swept up in my thoughts? “Pardon?”

“You’re not saying anything,” he said, putting his elbows on the table as he leaned forward. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

This is where my guilt started gnawing at me as well. Why was I even thinking these thoughts about the sweetest boyfriend I had ever had? “Oh, nothing, just...” And suddenly, it dawned on me that there was one thing that would ease my mind about this issue; “Just wondering if you’d want to meet my friends soon. I’ve met some of yours, but you’ve never met any of mine.”

Roman’s eyes widened slightly— I wouldn’t have caught it if I wasn’t watching his reaction like a hawk. With a chuckle, he pulled away from the table, wrapping his long, slender fingers around the cutlery once more; “I’ve met your friends,”

“Only in passing,” I mumbled, reaching out for my glass of water. “I’d like them to know the man I’ve been talking about for months. And I think you’d like them.”

Roman nodded, turning rather quiet. Something about it made my pulse quicken.

“Okay,” he eventually said. “I’ll meet your girls.”

I let out a shaky breath of relief, sipping my water with a bright smile on my face. Maybe I was just overthinking this, as always? “What do you say about next week?”

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And next week rolled along— today was the day. I had told my girls that Roman said yes to meeting them at our favourite bar downtown, and I was now checking my makeup in the elevator up to his penthouse. I couldn’t wait for them to finally get to know the man I was so crazy about, because honestly? I was dead tired of having to defend our relationship to them.

And I also didn’t like that it was starting to sound like they were right about him all along.

As the elevator doors opened and I knocked at the entrance, I held back a jump of excitement— I couldn’t wait. However, my excitement quickly died down when Roman opened the door, dressed in…

A white t-shirt and his pyjama pants?

At first, I let out a short chuckle, leaning up to give him a kiss. “Rome, get dressed! Silly man,” I made my way past him, putting away my stuff on the dresser nearby. “We’re supposed to meet my friends in, like, twenty minutes!”

The sigh Roman let out had my heart dropping in seconds. “Yeah, about that...” Something about the dead expression on his face gave me a hint about his next words; “Is it okay if we take a rain check? I don’t really feel like going anywhere tonight.”

My smile fell. “... Are you serious?”

Roman shrugged, reaching out to pull me into a hug, leaning his head on top of mine. “Well, they’re your friends, I think they’ll be fine if you just show up,"

I didn’t hug him back— I stood still, holding back the urge to push him off of me. “But... you didn't even have work today,”

“So?” Roman kissed the top of my head, stroking through my hair. Was he perhaps hoping that the affection would dull my disappointment? “It’s been a bit of a lazy day, sure. Everyone needs those. But don’t let me stop you from having fun with your friends, you should go!”

I put my hands on his shoulders, prying him off of me. It felt as though my heart had sunk all the way down into my heels. “You... said you’d meet them,” 

Had this been any other instance, I wouldn’t have cared— I’d have told him to stay in, that it was okay, but it was really bothering me now. Maybe Roman hadn’t changed after all? Had I deluded myself into thinking he had just for the sake of being with him?

“I know, but we can take it another time. Right?” With a sigh, Roman reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Why are you getting so upset about this?”

No— this was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you really asking me that?”

Roman didn’t even look confused, just... annoyed. “Yeah?”

I had to put a lot of energy into not letting my lower lip give in to a quiver. Standing in front of the man I loved, feeling shut down and upset, I finally let it out; “Do you know I don’t even have a key to your place?”

Roman furrowed his brows, clearly not expecting those words out of my mouth. “What does that have to do with anything?—"

“The one time I left a toothbrush here, you returned it to me!” I balled my fists, hating that this was making me feel like a whiny child. “You don’t want to sleep over at my place, you don’t want to meet my friends, and the one time we ran into your mother, you introduced me as your friend!” Saying it out loud only made it more clear to me. This was not okay, nor was it normal.

Roman’s eye twitched— it was obvious that he didn’t like to be confronted about this head-on. He shook his head, looking further annoyed and uncomfortable as his gaze wandered around the room, refusing to meet mine.

“The only thing that has changed, is that you’re no longer fucking those women with the ridiculously long legs!” I said, feeling my tears press up on me. 

This was it for Roman— he groaned, turning to me with a rather angry look on his face; “What the fuck is up with you and your hang-up on the long legs?—“

“Because, Roman, those women were beautiful!” I cried, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “And maybe you’d let them keep their toothbrushes here, because maybe it would be easier for you to embrace someone you think is on your level!” 

Seeing the stunned expression on his face, I angrily wiped away the tear that had rolled down my cheek, grabbing my stuff. I reached for the door, taking one last jab before making my leave; “I should’ve left with Peter when I had the chance,”

It was in this moment that Roman put his hand on the door, slamming it shut with all his might. The bang echoed through the apartment, making me jump and look back at him with wide eyes of shock; the look on his face made my heart threaten to beat out of my chest.

Roman’s breath came out in short, ragged motions, chest heaving with anger. The way his eyes widened with fury had me worried, and his lips shut tightly into a line as his jaw clenched— I had to take a step back. I should’ve known better than to provoke a man like this. 

“If you need a key to know that I’m crazy about you, then I might have to rethink what I’m doing here with you,” he said, his words coming out like a low growl. “Are you that fucking insecure?”

“You make me insecure!” I let in a big heave of air, flailing my arms around as I tried to find the right words. 

“Yeah?” Roman snarked. “Well, if I’m so fucking horrible, maybe you should go back to Peter! Go ahead!”

Had I not been so terrified, I would’ve cried all over again. “Fuck you,”

Roman’s eye twitched once more— “Fuck you, too,”

“Fuck you!” I couldn’t help but grow more and more agitated; I had never been this hurt in my life. “Fuck you and your snoring!”

Roman’s lips parted in confusion, quickly retaliating; “Oh, yeah? Fuck you and your incessant need to be late to everything!”

“Am not!” This was starting to make my blood boil. “Fuck you and your stupid suits!”

Roman seemed to be feeling the same; “Fuck you and your heels!”

“Fuck you and your hair!” 

Somehow, I felt like this fight was shifting into something else.

“Yeah? Well, fuck you and your short fuck-me dresses!” Roman took a step away from the door, nearing me with dangerous steps. “That’s just not appropriate to wear in my fucking office!”

It didn’t take long until this had turned into a screaming match. “Fine, I will wear nothing but baggy jeans and enormous sweaters, even during the summer! Would that make you happy, asshole?” 

Roman groaned; “You’re such a fucking bitch, do you know that?” he yelled, nearly hovering above me. “Of course it wouldn’t, you know that’s not what I meant!”

“What the fuck do you want me to wear, then?!—“

A beat. “What about nothing?”

It didn’t take long for the both of us to understand what was happening, our eyes widening at the same time as it dawned upon us. It also didn’t take long until I flung myself around his neck, our lips meeting in a fiery, angry kiss. Roman lifted me up in no time, my legs wrapping around him. 

“Fuck you,” I breathed in between kisses, feeling my heart beat against his as he carried me further into the apartment.

“Will do,” he said, reaching his bedroom in no time with his long steps. Roman laid me down on the bed, wasting no time crawling on top of me. 

I was still unbelievably angry at him— but somehow, those emotions had turned into flashes of passion. Something told me that our relationship wouldn’t last at this rate, and it only made me more desperate for him. With tears in both our eyes, we somehow managed to get out of our clothes in between hungry kisses, not wanting to be apart even for just a second.

I let out a tiny sob as he kissed down my stomach, feeling my anger simmer in my chest, raging through me like a storm. Roman was so damn infuriating, but I couldn’t bring myself to let him go. I really, really didn’t want to let him go— was this how we would end?

My back arched off the bed and I let out a soft gasp as I felt him lick a wet stripe up my sex; somehow, the pleasure was starting to feel like a relief from the tornado of feelings ravaging my insides. Feeling his tongue trace tight circles around my clit was way too damn overwhelming at this moment, making me want to cry out in more ways than one. “Rome—“ I breathed, feeling another sob bubble up in my chest.

However, it quickly died out as he sucked down on my clit, lapping me up, making me feel like I was on the brink of pure ecstasy. 

Roman knew how to dull down my brain. He knew, and he knew it very well. Right now, that was more of a blessing than a curse.

“Rome, come back here,” I breathed, reaching down to run my fingers through his soft hair. “I can’t— I want you close.”

Roman hummed, his wet lips never leaving me as he made his way back up my body with kisses along my stomach, my chest, my collarbones and my neck. “Thought you hated me,”

I looked up at him, meeting his hard gaze as his lips hovered inches above mine. “Not fully,” I whispered, reaching forward to touch his face. Sometimes, it was hard to believe someone so beautiful could be real. “Only a little.” My hands traced his brows, the curve of his nose, the hollow of his cheeks, touching him as though he was made of glass.

And something about my softness seemed to affect Roman— his green eyes rounded out, looking down at me with an unintelligible emotion I hadn’t seen in him before. Leaning back down, he kissed me once more, no longer able to hold back.

With his chest pressed against mine like this, I couldn’t help but feel soothed from the absolute agony coursing through my veins. I was so, so scared that this would be it, that this night would determine whether or not we stayed together or not— and right now, I put away all our differences, all our hiccups, everything that was damn right infuriating about him, because at the end of the day... I loved this man.

And I hated myself for it.

I let out a gasp as he entered me, giving in to a sigh of relief against his lips. Nothing could ever top this feeling, nothing and no one could ever make me feel this good, and I knew it.

“Fuck you,” Roman whispered against my lips, his breathing further challenged by the feeling of being engulfed by my wet heat in this moment, rolling his hips against mine. “Fuck you for driving me crazy like this.”

Feeling his cock deep inside of me like this was enough to make me submit, my fingers going into his hair as I let out a shaky moan. “Fuck you, too,” I wrapped my legs around him, wanting him closer, feeling my breath hitch in my throat as his thrusts soon enough grew more rough. 

Roman reached down to grab my hips, making me meet the harshness of his thrusts. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood for being gentle— he wanted to take his anger out on me, and I was going to let him, whether I wanted to or not. 

A deeper, darker part of me loved this. Loved this feeling of having no control, knowing I had no say in what he was doing whatsoever. I could only tighten my fist in his hair, holding on as he continuously thrust his cock deep into me, letting out a string of breathy curses and moans. 

I could feel my legs getting sore as Roman suddenly said something that made my heart stop; “I love you,” he breathed, his grip on my hips tightening. “Stay with me.”

What? What was going on? I let out a cry, letting my body go limp to take his thrusts. My eyes widened as I realized that in this moment, I suddenly had power over our relationship, probably for the first time ever. I could decide whether or not I wanted to stay— he was begging me.

However, it was incredibly hard to make such an important decision when my legs were trembling and my whole lower body was in a state of the highest euphoric feeling on earth. “Liar,” I eventually said, my anger flaring up again at the memory of the events this past month. “You don’t love me, Rome... A-Aah—“

Angered, Roman pulled out of me without warning, flipping me over on my stomach. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, making me wince, as he used his other hand to prop me up to make it easier for him to enter me again. I let out another cry of both pleasure and anger, grabbing at the bedding beneath me as he spoke; “It’s you... For me, it’s only you... Shit,”

Roman let go of my hair, allowing my body to go limp beneath him. With the little power I had left, I instinctually moved my hips to meet his thrusts, wanting more. 

This was possibly the biggest mind-fuck I had ever been through, my brain shutting down as I felt his dick slide in and out of me continuously. My tears continued to press up on my eyes as I felt my orgasm building. “I loved you,” I breathed, feeling his hot, laboured breath against my shoulder and his hair brushing up against the crook of my neck. “I loved you, so, so much…”

It dawned on me that I really, truly did. I had loved him, but I couldn’t love him anymore. 

As Roman grabbed my hips, somehow shifting the angle of his thrusts, I let out a cry as he brushed up against my sweet spot— this was enough to drive me over the edge, coming harder than I probably ever had before. I muffled my string of moans against the bedding beneath me, feeling a tear roll down my cheek, completely spent and overwhelmed.

It didn’t take long before Roman came as well, the harshness of his thrusts coming to a halt as he spilled into me. My eyes widened at the feeling— we’d been so swept up in the moment that we forgot about the condom. Fuck.

I heard Roman’s breath hitch as he pulled out of me, taking in the sight of his cum slowly leaking out of me.

It made me shudder— crap. I rolled over on my back, feeling how much my thighs and hips ached. It was a strange feeling, accompanying the satisfaction of post-coital rapture. I also couldn't piece together whether I liked the feeling of his cum seeping out of me or not. Had the relationship not been in this state, I probably would've found it rather... hot. 

I watched Roman’s chest raise up and sink, his green eyes meeting mine. None of us knew what to say, the sound of our panting filling the room. 

As everything started to dawn on me, I wiped away my remaining tears, sitting up in the bed despite knowing the cum might stain his sheets. Fuck the sheets. “I should go,” I mumbled, not meeting his eyes anymore. “My friends are probably waiting...”

With a sigh, Roman shifted on the bed, laying down next to me. His fingers reached for my arm, hoping to pull me back down and into his embrace. “Stay,”

I looked back at him, unsure what to feel. I couldn’t believe what I was about to say; “No,”

Roman’s expression remained unchanged, possibly expecting that answer. “I’ll go with you, then,”

“No,” I got up, looking for my clothes that had been scattered somewhere on the floor. “I need to go the pharmacy, get a plan B, and then meet my friends. I don’t have time for you anymore.”

That was definitely something he hadn’t expected. Roman sat up, lips parted in confusion as he watched me get dressed; “What is that supposed to mean?”

I felt my lower lip tremble as I got hit with a newfound sense of clarity. “I’m not getting what I want in this relationship. This isn’t good for me. So until you get your priorities straight, I’m leaving you,” As I finished getting dressed, I turned to him. “Thanks for this, Rome... Have a good night.”

Leaving the bedroom with tears in my eyes, I did my best to hold back yet another sob. I quickly put my shoes on, not wanting to waste another second in his ridiculously big penthouse. I wiped away the mascara stains on my cheeks in the hallway mirror when Roman appeared, back in his clothes.

“Just... Let’s talk about this, okay? Let’s not make a rash decision,” he said, nearing me. “We can make this work. Give it some time.”

It was hard to look at him right now, especially when he looked this sexed-up. I didn’t even want to answer him, making my way to the door.

“Come on!” Roman was starting to sound more desperate, reaching out for my wrist. “This can work!—“

I turned around, my gaze hardening. It was so damn hard to resist him, and I needed to get my decision confirmed. “Say it again,” I said, knowing what would ensue.

Confused, Roman’s brows furrowed; “This can work...?”

“No,” This was it. This was the moment. “Tell me you love me, now that we’re not in bed. Mean it.”

Roman froze, and it was clear that his mind was working overtime. I held my breath, hoping that I would be proven wrong, that this was something we could overcome. However, with a shaky breath, Roman let go of my wrist, taking a step back. He lowered his head in newfound shame, giving me a silent approval to leave.

Sighing, I felt as though my heart had broken into a thousand tiny pieces.  How was it possible that I had let him disappoint me over and over? “Thought so,” I took one last look at him, feeling a sob build in my throat. “Bye, Roman.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

It had been a week since I had seen Roman, and it had been a week of pure agony. I hadn't stopped crying, having to take a week off of work, buying takeaway dinners every day because I didn't have the energy to get out of bed most of the time. 

Agony. Pure agony. 

Quite frankly, it made me feel ridiculous. I couldn't believe that I had let myself fall apart because of a man. But this wasn't an ordinary man— This was Roman. The previous-love-of-my-life Roman. Man-of-my-dreams Roman. How could I expect myself to be okay after a breakup like that?

Waking up on Saturday was even worse. The day I would usually have to follow his ridiculously cute 'closeness-rule'. The day we would take our stroll in the park. 

However, a small voice in my head asked me; why can't you just do that yourself? And that was exactly how I ended up back in Clifford Park under that same lamp as usual. A small part of me hoped he would show up, but another part of me went into a tiny panic over that thought. 

I stretched out my hand to let my fingers run over the cold metal where Roman had etched in our initials. In truth, I had found it quite stupid when he had suggested to do it— it was something kids did, teenagers, not grown adults? However, in this moment, I couldn't help but realize how romantic it was. That we were eternally etched onto something, a tiny memory of us and what we used to be. 

The lamp was starting to feel like a tombstone for a beloved, and I wiped away the tear that rolled down my cheek, not necessarily loving the thought of crying in public. Forcing myself to leave, I lowered my head as I passed by a man with a rather familiar scent, trying not to think too much about it. But my curiosity got the best of me— I turned around, watching the man in the familiar coat turn back around. Had he looked at me too? Was that who I thought it was?

I immediately sped up. I shouldn't be here.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Another week had almost passed, and I was starting to feel better. I had found out that the ache in my heart could easily be subsided by a glass of wine or a day out with my friends, but nothing could fill the hole Roman had left in my soul.

However, I had hoped that I would feel better about the whole ordeal at this point. Who needed a man that couldn't commit? Definitely not me.

... Definitely not. 

It was a Friday now, and I had just gotten off of work. I was getting ready to leave for drinks with my friends once more, seeing as that was the best remedy. And when I heard a knock at my door, I opened it without a second thought— it was probably one of my girlfriends asking to borrow a pair of shoes, as always. 

Meaning, when I saw who it was, I completely froze as my lips parted in shock.

There he was; Roman let out a shaky breath as he met my gaze. His hair wasn't styled, lying in soft waves over his forehead, and he had ditched his usual suits for a casual, formal look. Typical Roman— he couldn't even show up looking like a normal human being. Ever. 

However, I wasn't about to complain. I held my breath, unsure what to say or do. 

And suddenly, he spoke up; “Did you know I failed math class?”

I couldn’t help but let my jaw fall, giving him a look. "... What?” Is this really what he chose to say right now? It was definitely not what I had expected. 

Roman shrugged, not meeting my gaze anymore. “I had to redo it over and over again, probably up to three times,” he mumbled, putting his hands into his pockets. "When it comes to important things, I usually fuck it up. Majorly. And it seems to apply with... this as well."

My knuckles were turning white by the sheer force I was holding onto the door. It felt as though I couldn't breathe, turning to stone. 

"I'm also bad at sharing," Roman continued, looking up from the floor. "Really bad. And I'm sort of legally not allowed to give out spare keys to anyone, because of security reasons my company has put in place. So I'm sorry that it didn't cross my mind. But, wait, hold on—" He pulled one hand out of his pockets, reaching out his palm to me. 

And there it was. A key. With a shaky hand, I took it into mine, trying not to pay too much attention to the feeling of his hand against mine after so much time apart. 

Roman let out a relieved sigh, nodding to himself. "The thing about the toothbrush... Fuck, I've been thinking about it endlessly, and I see how it looks now. I genuinely thought you'd probably want it back, it didn't even hit me that you might've wanted a toothbrush at my place, and I have nothing against that. It's... cute, actually,"

I let go of the door with my other hand, putting the keys into my front pocket. I did my best to steady my breathing; I hadn't been this overwhelmed in a while. "Roman, I didn't expect you here—"

"—And the thing about my mother," Roman was practically rambling on at this point. Was he nervous? "She's insane. I don't introduce her to anyone, actually. If she found out we were dating, she'd probably put you through hell and back to see if you'd be the right fit for the 'future of the company', as she says. I wanted to spare you. So, again, sorry. Should've cleared that up."

Another shaky breath escaped me, not knowing what to say. 

Roman nodded to himself, glancing around the hallway to check that we were still alone. "And... I freaked out about meeting your friends. I have an inkling that they hate me, which they sort of have all the right to do," 

"Oh, Roman," I took a step forward, mostly out of pure habit. I had to stop myself from reaching up to his face and stroke through his hair. "Why didn't you just... tell me?"

Roman shrugged, looking rather embarrassed. "You didn't tell me that it bothered you,"

I sighed— he was right. "I'm getting a deja vu. I thought we were supposed to better at communicating, now," 

"I know," Without being invited in, Roman stepped into my apartment, checking it out. It was so typical of him to assume that he would be welcome despite our fight, but I couldn't help but find it sort of... attractive. Arrogant man. I closed the door behind us as I watched him, crossing my arms over my chest. It looked like he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon, sticking out his hand to bump the lamp on my ceiling as though he was bored; "Did I ever tell you I love this place?"

Grimacing, I rolled my eyes. The time he didn't want to stay over at my place was still lingering in the back of my mind. "As if,"

"No, I do," He turned to me, a tiny hint of his signature smirk appearing on his lips. "It's just that your bed is ridiculously tiny. Did you ever notice that I'm longer than your bed?" 

I scoured my brain for that information, flustered. How was it possible for someone to be so charming? Giving up, I shook my head and admitted defeat. I wasn't going to win this mental battle against myself, and I knew it. I wanted him here, whether I admitted to it or not.

Allowing his smirk to grow, Roman's green eyes shimmered with hope. "It seems this will take a while.... Looks like I might have to spend the night,"

I bit back a smile— bastard.

"You're neurotic," I breathed, shifting around in bed as Roman continued to rummage through his room like a drug addict looking for his next hit. I hadn't seen him like this in a while— the last time had been a few months ago, when work got a little hectic.

"Can't help it," Roman groaned as he opened another drawer, still no sign of his cigarettes. "I can't believe I ran out of this shit, I'm so fucking stupid."

I sighed, rubbing my eyes as I sat up; I had woken up about three minutes ago from the sound of Roman throwing things out of his closet, desperately trying to figure out if his emergency stash was under his tie-collection or not. Now, he moved on to the nightstand, which allowed me to reach a drowsy hand out for him.

"Rome," I said, voice raspy from my sleep. "Come back to bed."

However, there was no stopping him. Roman continued to chew on his lower lip, which eventually had me worried the skin would tear as he frantically searched the drawers. "God, since when did I have so many condoms?" His slender fingers reached for a large roll of a brand I hadn't seen before, not the usual we use, and Roman took a tiny break as he checked the expiry date. "... These are ones I've had since high school, what the fuck?" Once again, he threw the roll of condoms over his shoulder, tossing it to the ground without a care. 

Roman was like a man possessed. He usually woke up a lot earlier than I did and had a smoke on the balcony, but the denial of his morning ritual had thrown him completely into disarray. 

"Roman," I said, trying to put on my stern voice as he laid down on the floor, now crawling under the bed. This was getting ridiculous. "Stop it, you're going to get all dusty! We'll go out and buy more later, I promise, could you please just?—"

"Hah!" Roman exclaimed, a thud following. My deduction was that he had gotten so excited when he found his emergency cig-stash, that he hit his head against the bottom of the bed. The mental image had me suppressing a giggle; "Found it?"

Roman's head darted up from the edge of the bed— I hadn't seen him smile so brightly since the day I said it would be okay for him to come on my face. Just once. "Indeed," he said, getting up on his feet, reaching for the lighter on the nightstand. 

I groaned, pulling my pillow over my face; "Rome, not inside, please!"

The bed dented next to me as I heard Roman let out a sigh of relief, finally getting a hit— was that a moan? He eased the pillow off my face, giving my cheek a sweet kiss as he made himself comfortable next to me. "Good morning, gorgeous,"

Glaring at him, I did my best not to shove him off the bed. "You're insane,"

"No," Roman snaked an arm under my neck, propping himself up on his elbow as he pulled me closer to his chest. "Not insane. Just an addict." 

I watched him exhale a cloud of smoke at the ceiling, unable to rip my eyes off of the beautiful man in my bed. Despite him having gone absolutely crazy, throwing things around as though his life depended on it, I couldn't deny how sexy Roman looked right now— especially with his soft lips parted, his eyes lazily fluttering with delight, his bare chest heaving in slow strokes; he looked rather post-coital. Fucked. Thoroughly fucked.

I shifted, giving his shoulder a nice bite which had him laughing; "Yeah, yeah, I know I'm an ass," Roman's free hand moved to my hair, giving it a gentle tug away from him. "Wanna hurt me, darling?"

As he continued to hold my hair back like this, the back of my head hitting my pillow again, I met his eyes with a challenging gaze. "For how you woke me up this morning? Definitely,"

Amused, Roman smirked as he inhaled another drag from his cigarette. The second tug to my hair served as a signal; open up. I rolled my eyes, parting my lips as he leaned down, breathing the smoke from his mouth into mine with an open-mouthed kiss.

I couldn't deny that I liked a cigarette every once in a while— I just wasn't an absolute maniac about it like he was. Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the feeling of a mix of nicotine and Roman flowing through my veins, my body relaxing further.

"That's my girl," Roman murmured with a smile, lazily balancing his cigarette between his fingers as he leaned down to give my cheek another kiss. "Now, what on earth did you dream about last night? You were tossing and turning like a fucking boat."

Huffing, I gave him a look. After putting me through a rather rude awakening this morning, he just had to inquire about this? Truth be told, I didn't really want to tell him; not when he was in this mood. When Roman got a little neurotic, the smartest thing to do was to keep him calm and at bay— not poke him. "Oh... I don't remember,"

"Sure you do," Roman pulled me closer, my head now resting in the crook of his arm as he ran his fingers over my bare shoulders. This was exactly what I loved about our mornings together; he had the wonderful ability of making it so intimate. All until he had to go and spoil it; "You remember everything, so I'm not buying it. And quite frankly, I think I heard a moan."

Immediately gasping, I turned to look up at him and his dangerously green eyes. "You heard wrong,"

"I most certainly didn't,"

"Well, I—" My words were suddenly caught in my throat. I knew that no matter how much I fought it, he'd somehow rope the truth out of me. Letting out a sigh of defeat, I hid my face in the crook of his arm, muffling my words; "Fine, maybe you did."

Roman smoked another drag with a look of victory on his face, the classic smirk on display. "Do tell,"

I knew that Roman had seen me in every position possible, in probably every scenario possible, but it was still sort of embarrassing admitting to a sex-dream. It felt like I was right back in elementary school again, confessing my love to Derek Campbell— the feeling haunted me, clung to me, even as an adult. In this moment, the feeling was just the same. "Well... you were there,"

Roman hummed; "Glad to have that part confirmed,"

"Fuck you," I gave his chest a playful shove which made him laugh all over again. God, how I loved the sound of that. "It was a little weird, so you have to promise not to make fun of me, okay?"

Roman was nearly finished with his cigarette, pouting at the realization. Despite that, he turned his eyes and attention back to me; "Luckily for you, I'm aware that I'm in no position to kink-shame. So don't you worry your pretty little mind,"

I couldn't help but protest; "It's not a kink-thing! It was just!— Ugh," Deciding to swallow my shame, I took a deep breath. "It was you and I and... my parents' bed." I shuddered, unsure why I had even had that dream in the first place.

Roman's eyes widened, looking down at me with a look of both surprise and delight. "Well, that's not so bad?"

I went back to hiding my face. This was too embarrassing. "It's my subconscious, not me! I've never actually wanted to do that, I think it's super weird!"

"Well..." Roman reached over to the nightstand, putting out his cigarette in the designated bowl. "It's not that weird. Or uncommon. Let's just say you should be glad you didn't know me in high school."

I felt my face flush as he turned back to me, wrapping his free hand around my waist as he now spooned me from behind. "So... what were we doing on this bed?"

I turned to glance at him, meeting his look of lust. I knew exactly where this was going. "Roman, come on, just forget it, please—"

"I'm just curious!" he said, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. "Curious about whatever your brain is hiding in there. So come on, we were on your parents' bed, and what? Were we making out?"

I sighed, giving in. "Yeah..." 

"Okay, that's a start," Roman's hand around my waist pulled me closer. "So we were making out. And then?"

Fuck. "Then... you started kissing my neck—" I froze as I suddenly felt his lips exactly there, humming against my skin, urging me to continue. Oh? My eyes widened at my sudden newfound control. Would he do the next thing that came out of my mouth? "And... your hand was on my thigh."

I could feel him smile against my skin as his arm left my waist, his fingers now trailing my thigh. He eventually dug his fingers into my hips, dragging me closer to meet his. My breath hitched in my throat as I felt his hard cock pressing against me, my own arousal coming upon me like a big wave. I shouldn't be so surprised— Roman could get hard from literally anything. I specifically remembered one time when I fixed his hair in the car and we suddenly had to wait about five minutes for it to go down. 

Amused, I couldn't help but smile; Roman was slowly making up for the rough morning. "I-I don't really remember exactly how we got there, but I remember your fingers were in me at one point..."

With a slight chuckle, Roman coaxed my legs open, making me shift; half of my body was suddenly on top of his. "Really, now?" he said, his tone teasing as he ran his fingers over my underwear. 

I shivered— "Yeah," I held my breath as Roman got me out of my panties with ease as though he had done it a hundred times before, which he definitely had. 

Roman brought his fingers up to my mouth, tracing my lips as he spoke, his voice soft and low; "And we were alone in the house?"

My breathing was starting to get a little heavier as my eyes met his, round with love and want. "Yeah," I parted my lips, letting him slide two fingers into my mouth. 

Roman's pupils widened, transfixed on the sight beneath him, watching me close my lips around his digits. "That's good," he breathed. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear us, would we?"

I hummed around his fingers— this was taking a nice turn. 

Roman pressed his lips against my temple as he slowly pulled out of my mouth, his wet fingers leaving a trace from my stomach all the way to between my legs. "Must've felt darn good for you to be moaning like that in your sleep, hm? I know you like a good thrill,"

I let out a whimper as his fingers traced tight circles around my clit, unsure whether I was still dreaming or not. "I do,"

A wide smirk spread across Roman's lips, watching me writhe in pleasure beneath him. "Who would've thought.... My little girl, wanting to be spread out on her parents' bed," 

Before I could protest, my lips parted as I felt him enter a finger in me, letting out a small gasp. My heart was beating so hard, I could barely hear my own thoughts. "Shit, Rome—"

"You like my fingers inside you so much that you dream of it, huh?" Roman's voice darkened as his lips hovered above mine, denying me a kiss. 

I clawed onto the bedding as he entered a second digit, my body giving into quivers of pleasure. "Yes," I breathed, panting against his lips. "Feels so, so..."

Roman pumped his fingers into me as he watched me struggle to speak, his smirk only growing at the squelching sound of his digits going into my wetness. "And then what?"

I could barely think; "What?— Fuck!" My back arched off the bed as he curled his fingers inside me, hitting my sweet spot with ease. 

Amused and satisfied, Roman bit his lip as he watched me; "What happened next?"

How was I supposed to conjure this memory when I was in such a state? I let out a series of whimpers and moans, along with a string of unintelligible words until it suddenly came back to me; "I... got on top of you,"

Roman's fingers slowed down as he met my gaze with a surprised look on his face. "What? You never do that,"

I felt my cheeks flush, finally getting some time to breathe; "I don't know, Rome, I'm just telling you what happened,"

Letting out a laugh, Roman leaned down to (finally) capture my lips, humming in satisfaction. I could sense his cigarettes on his tongue, but I didn't give a damn at this point. "Fine, dig your own grave," he said, slowly pulling his fingers out of me, drawing out a moan of frustration; I felt empty now, and I didn't like it one bit. 

I slowly sat up, dazed and horny beyond belief. I leaned over to kiss Roman once more as he put on a condom, feeling the taste of cigarettes on his tongue. My heart was starting to beat much faster— Roman was right, I was never on top. Mostly because he never let me, and because I usually didn't get the chance to ask before he jumped me.

I let out a yelp as he hooked his fingers around my thighs, dragging me on top of him as though I weighed nothing. My hands rested on his chest as I looked down at him, watching his signature smirk and green, green eyes dart back up at me with excitement.

I couldn't help but feel a little lost— it had been so long since we had done it like this, that I had almost forgotten the logistics of it. However, I did the one move I at least remembered; I sunk myself down on his length, my lips parting in satisfaction.

Roman let out a breathy moan, his hands gripping at my thighs. "Shit," he hissed, relaxing at the feeling of being engulfed in my heat.

But now came the moment where I genuinely felt lost— what the fuck does one do now? It seemed I had possibly not woken up fully just yet. I scoured my brain for the answer, my senses already dulled from the feeling of having him inside me. And it was probably the fact that nothing was happening which had Roman opening his eyes, glancing at me with a questioning look that quickly turned into a bright, beaming look of humorous delight. "Forgot?" 

My face flushed a shade of pink, beyond embarrassed. Suddenly, I was very aware of how compromising this position was. "No, I... just don't know how to start,"

Roman chuckled, shaking his head; "You're so damn cute," His laughter slowly died down, his eyes sparkling with lust. "Let me help you, then." Grabbing my hips, he lifted me a little along his length before guiding me forward, watching me moan as he pushed me back down again. 

My brain quickly pieced it together, slowly getting into a rhythm as I threw my head back in delight; I had forgotten how nice this was. 

"There you go," Roman cooed, his hand now wandering up my stomach. "That's my girl."

Blushing, I felt my body shiver, nipples perking up at his words. I let out a string of moans, feeling his cock inside of me, slipping further in with each thrust. "Fuck, this is so much better," I breathed, looking down to meet his hungry eyes. "So much better in real life."

Roman's lips had parted in pleasure, another breathy moan escaping his lips. I loved to see him like this, so engulfed in the feeling. "Glad to hear it," he said, panting slightly as he reached up to pinch my nipples, gentle as always.

I let out a rather loud whimper, leaning forward to stroke his hair off of his forehead. Finding my eyes, Roman couldn't help but smile; "You look so damn good like this," he breathed, eyes full of love. "We're doing it like this more often, you have no say in it."

"Really, now?" I couldn't help but kiss him, shuddering at the feeling of his cock going in and out of me from this angle. 

Roman hummed against the kiss— I was unsure whether it was a moan or not. "Yeah," he said, the smug smirk back on his lips in no time. "But I'm going to cum at this rate, so change of plans." Roman grabbed my hips, lifting me off of him and throwing me back down on the bed, making me giggle in delight. Crazy man.

I let out a content sigh as he made his way between my legs, allowing me to throw my hands around his neck and rest my legs on top of his; God, how I loved this position. I loved looking up at him, seeing his parted lips, feeling his chest against mine. He was so damn beautiful— always. 

"I guess it's my fault for making you a pillow princess," Roman teased, entering me with a low moan.

My back arched off the bed, biting my lip to hold back a rather loud gasp. "I'm sorry," was the only thing I managed to say, my mind shutting down at the feeling of his cock inside of me once again. 

"Don't be," he whispered, smiling against my lips. "I love having you under me. So small, so sweet... As if I'm going to let you do all the work." Roman grabbed a fistful of my hair, moving my head to the side to give him access to my neck, rolling his hips into mine. "My sweet, sweet girl... Wanna make you feel good..."

What else could I do but moan and agree? "Feels so good," I whimpered. "A-Aah, I love— love you inside of me."

Roman let out a laugh against my neck before he sucked down on a certain spot, drawing forth a hickey. It was clear that he knew what my original ending for that sentence was. "Say it properly," he murmured against my skin, his teeth gently grazing my collarbones.

I wanted to whine about his incessant need to tease me in vulnerable moments, but I didn't want to risk him denying my high. "Love you," My words came out in shallow breaths, my head lolling down against the pillow as I felt my body submit to him.

"Properly,"

I couldn't help but giggle, the slight growl in his voice evoking a familiar tightening in my lower abdomen. Feeling his cock this deep inside of me, knowing I'd have a blooming mark on my neck— this was heaven. The pleasure was moving all the way out to the tips of my fingers, my whole body filling with warmth as I gave in; "I love you,"

Roman came back up, capturing my lips in a sweet kiss as his thrust became hungrier, taking what was rightfully his. "Good girl,"

"Say— Say it back," I was getting dangerously close at this rate, coddled and pleasured. 

Roman could definitely sense it, unable to hold back his cocky smile. "Love you too,"

Fucker. I reached up, giving his hair a proper tug which had him wincing in pleasure; "Fine, fine!" God, I loved his laugh. Reaching down to grab my hips, Roman lifted me up just slightly, making me meet his thrusts. "I love you, baby, you know I do... Fuck, I'm close—"

I couldn't help but smile, feeling as though I was on the brink of delirium. I could forgive Roman for his incessantly stupid need for cigarettes, because nothing could ever match this; the feeling of his cock inside of me, the sounds of our bodies meeting, our heavy breaths mixed, the feeling of his lips against my body. That was all I needed— the knot in my stomach grew impossibly tight as I pulled him closer by his hair, our noses nudging as the knot suddenly released, making me moan out against him as my body quivered in rapture.

Watching the display beneath him along with the tug of his hair was enough to push Roman over the edge as well, letting out a low groan as he came hard, fingers digging into my hips with a harsh grip which I knew would bruise.

Falling down limp next to me, we both panted in bliss, mouths parted and open next to each other. I loved these mornings with Roman, no matter how neurotic he was at times.

"You smell like cigarettes," I breathed, nudging my nose against his.

Roman hummed; "And you smell like me,"

I didn't like Roman Godfrey— not one bit. 

Everything about that spoiled brat was infuriating. All from the way he walked around as though he owned the town, to the way that he'd get a kick out of throwing tater tots at people. Fucking child. The amount of times I'd sat at the bleachers and watched him throw it at the cheerleaders, specifically aiming right down their shirts, made my blood boil.

Roman Godfrey believed that the world was his, including the people living in it. That's exactly why he dared to take such liberties. 

I specifically hated the way he'd move his hair out of his green, green eyes, the look he'd give me after he tugged my hair in the hallway with a sneer, and his sadistic need to claim his conquests in the absolute weirdest ways known to man. If we are to believe Brooke Bluebell from the cheerleading team, he also had an affinity for poking girls with needles in public just for the sheer thrill of watching them squeal. Because who would tell him off, right? I wondered if he was familiar with the word 'no' at all.

After the needle-rumour spread, I made sure to keep a few meters between us at all times. There was no way in hell that he would get away with doing that to me, anyway. 

And I would've stayed as far away from Roman as possible, had it been up to me. Sadly, my best friend at school was his cousin— just my luck. Letha, like the rest of the girls at school, was quite fond of Roman; since she was the oldest of the two, she somehow couldn't see that he had grown past the age of five, treating him as though he could do no wrong.

And this was why Roman was always invited whenever we would have study sessions at Letha's place. He would splay himself out on the bed, stretching out his long limbs, watching us as we worked and he lazed away. 

God, how I hated him. I hated the way his hair was kissing his forehead when he laid like this in Letha's bed, the way he'd grin whenever he watched me erase a wrong answer, and the way his cologne would linger in my system several hours after he'd left.

Currently, we were supposed to be working on the half-year assignment everyone in our year had to do. Letha was sitting at her desk with her back turned to us as Roman and I sat on the bed, each with our own computer. My meter-rule to protect myself from any incoming needles was impossible to implement on Letha's tiny bed, and I let out a huff as Roman's knee touched mine. I prayed to every God in the universe that he didn't have a needle in his pockets somewhere— I was quite fond of my knees, and would very much like to keep them intact.

"Five hundred bucks," Roman tried, nudging me. "Do this assignment for me and it's yours."

I rolled my eyes, shifting further away from him on the bed. "Do your own shit," 

He proceeded to sneer, watching me with his big, green eyes. "Six hundred,"

"No,"

"Seven?"

"Suck it, Roman," I cracked my knuckles, doing my best to get back into the flow of writing the assignment. It was so damn hard to focus when Roman's incessant sighing continued, almost as though he was being forced to take his own life. 

"Help me, then," he mumbled, moving closer to me. His leg was almost on top of mine, now. "How did you answer question b?" Roman leaned over me, his head now obstructing my view of my screen. In a flash of pure instincts, I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of his hair that was tickling my nose. I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly what it was that smelled so good— him or the shampoo?

I got yanked out of my state when Roman pulled away, typing away on his own laptop, finally inspired. 

I couldn't help but sigh; I hated Roman. And I hated that he didn't notice me in the way I wanted him to. I hated the way he smiled, the way he'd so blatantly flirt with girls at any opportunity he'd get, and how my heart fluttered when he flirted with me once in a blue moon.

It only got worse when we were in chemistry class the next day, and Roman had caught me sitting all alone in the back. I wasn't sure what came over me and why I had allowed him to sit down next to me again— the last time had been an absolute catastrophe where he got the both of us kicked out for bickering too loudly, so I hoped it wouldn't be a repeat-situation. I really needed to make sure I was getting every drop of information out of class today, as we had a test coming up soon.

However, Roman was the absolute biggest distraction on earth. I knew this. He kept leaning over to draw crude drawings in my book, making me have to swat his hand away over and over; "Stop it!"

Roman huffed, leaning back against his chair with a bored expression on his face. "You're no fun," he whispered back. 

And this was when it hit me— maybe I wasn't fun? Did he really think that of me? 

... Maybe it was time to show him how fun I could be?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When Letha mentioned a party happening this weekend and the fact that Roman would be joining, I couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread— I knew what that would entail for him. He'd either disappear with a girl upstairs and/or get absolutely shitfaced, as always. And was I really going to put myself through seeing him disappear with someone else again just to prove I wasn't boring?

Yes— Yes, I was.

As I sipped my drink, I couldn't help but feel my hatred for Roman simmer and come to a boil— I hated how he had me doing the most ridiculous things known to man just to get a sliver of his attention. Why was a question I couldn't bring myself to answer. 

As I stood in the kitchen with Letha, I spotted Roman passing by the door, laughing with a friend of his. My heart thumped hard as I let out a shaky breath; "Letha, I have to tell you something,"

She turned to me, a beer in her hand. "Don't tell me you've killed someone again? I don't have the energy to drag another body out of my car today,"

"Ha-ha," I mumbled; had this been any other instance, I would've thought it was funny... but not right before I was about to tell her why I had come tonight. I dreaded it; I knew she'd disapprove. But just as I opened my mouth, ready to put my friendship on the line, I caught Roman backtracking and appearing in the door again.

"Girls!" He walked over, looking tipsy as ever. Up close like this, Roman towered over the both of us, and I had to look up an unusual amount to meet his eyes. "I've been looking for you all over! They're playing seven minutes in heaven downstairs, wanna join?"

Had this been any other night, I would've given him an immediate no— but tonight was different. Tonight, I was fun. Shrugging, I glanced over at Letha to check her reaction.

"That's so childish," Letha mumbled, sipping her beer. "I don't know, and I'm sure grumpy over here isn't too keen on that either—"

"No, I'm in!" My words came out like a panicked squeal which immediately made my cheeks burn. 

Roman seemed caught off guard by my reaction, but he eventually reached out to pat my shoulder, looking smug as ever. "There you go," he cooed, clearly teasing me. "Maybe you'll finally get laid or something!"

I was abruptly reminded of why I hated him so much in the first place. Swatting his hand off of me, I brushed my fingers over my shoulder where he had touched me, feeling a lingering burn. "If you think seven minutes is enough for everything that goes into sex, I think you need to lower that ego of yours,"

Letha bit back a smirk as Roman's lips parted in shock. Maybe the spoiled rich kid hadn't gotten a reality-check from his long list of women before? He eventually recovered from the diss, rolling his eyes; "Well, seven minutes with me can be more than enough. Need me to show you?"

Letha let out a loud snort, shuddering; "Ew, Roman! I've told you not to talk to my friends like that!"

As they turned to each other, bickering like siblings, I gripped the counter behind me with all my strength. I was almost compelled to agree, to say yes to letting him have a go, and I had to bite down on my tongue to stop myself. After a few drinks, I knew I could get a little loose-lipped.

It didn't take long before we all made it downstairs, everyone spreading out on the couches and chairs scattered in the basement. Letha and I sat down on a few pillows on the floor, far away from Roman and his rumoured needles. 

I felt my throat go dry every time the bottle spun around, landing on random people from school who later went into the empty closet nearby. But my attention was elsewhere; I watched as Roman put his arm around the girl next to him, whispering something into her ear which made her laugh. It made me want to slam my head into the wall behind me— I would rather pass out and bleed out than witness him picking up another girl again. 

I swallowed hard as the people in the closet came back out and the bottle got spun again. The first person was picked; a girl with long, brown hair whom I remembered from history class; huge bitch. Holding my breath, I watched as the bottle got spun again— it eventually slowed down and pointed to Roman, which made the girl's friend group cheer as though they had won a million dollars. It felt like my heart was getting ripped out of my chest as Roman got up from the couch, grinning from ear to ear. The girl he had just had his arm around wasn't as happy, to say the least.

This whole display was making me sick. I bit the inside of my cheek as Roman closed the door to the closet and the previous drinks in my system threatened to come up. Everything about this was making me sick. I got up, taking hurried steps to the nearest bathroom, planting myself on my knees in front of the toilet just in case.

I heard a few knocks on the door before Letha stepped in, looking worried. "I told you not to drink that vodka crap," she mumbled, locking the door before she sat down next to me on the floor.

I felt my tears press on as I grew further nauseous. "Don't mind me," I breathed. "I just need a minute." 

This only solidified my absolute and utter hate for Roman. Spoiled fucking brat— why did he have to make me feel this way? Why was my jealousy making me so sick and bitter?

Letha put her hand on my back in an attempt to soothe me; "Maybe I should drive you home?"

"No!" I said, fighting my gag reflex. "I need— I need to get out there again."

This only made Letha sigh, her hand now reaching for my hair to be ready. "You have a crush out there or something...? You know that you don't need this stupid game to get whichever guy you want, right?" 

I did my best to get up from the floor without immediately falling back down. Of course she didn't understand. 

"Seriously, hold on—" Letha grabbed my hand, holding me back from leaving the bathroom. Her eyes were just as green as Roman's, and up close like this, I could see all their similarities; the upward curve of their nose, the same full lips, and the exact same way of weaving their brows together in worry. "You don't need to do anything just because you want to prove Roman wrong," she said, squeezing my hand. "I know you came down here to make a point, but... do what's best for you, okay?"

"Okay," I mumbled, tugging at her hand. The seven minutes were almost up, and I wanted to see the look on that girl's face after she left the closet with Roman. I wanted to see the look of bliss in her eyes, the hint of red in her cheeks, and watch her inhale with soft, sharp breaths just like the rest of his girls always did. The best part of watching this, was imagining that the girl was me instead— that I was the one feeling euphoric, and not her. And on the other hand, the masochistic part of me wanted to feel my heart burn with jealousy and my chest tighten with the ache I had gotten so familiar with. "Let's go. Please."

My nausea dulled down as I sat back down on the floor, realizing Roman was back. Maybe it was good that I missed the moment they came out— maybe it was good for me to spare my psyche, just this once? As my eyes met Roman's across the room, I couldn't help but notice the dark satisfaction on display across his lips. It was almost as though he knew— or maybe it was the fact that I probably looked a little sick? Did he like the look of pain in my eyes? I was reminded of Brooke Bluebell and her needle story... how he liked imposing pain on girls he found to be vulnerable. The fucking needle thing would haunt me forever.

I barely noticed that the bottle had been spun again, and I was yanked out of my mind-storm when Letha nudged me. "You don't have to," she tried, nodding towards the bottle that was now pointing at me.

My eyes immediately moved from the bottle and straight to Roman, who seemed to grow further amused. There was no way in hell I would back down now— maybe this would change his outlook on me? I had to prove I was fun, after all. Shrugging, acting as though it was no big deal, I reached for the bottle, spinning it.

I couldn't help but ponder if someone up there in the sky was playing games with me when the bottle pointed at the one person I had hoped it would be.

The girl Roman had just been with protested; "What? That's against the rules! He can't go in two times in a row!—"

"Sure can," Roman shot in, watching my every movement like a hawk— something told me he was a little excited about this as well. He got up from the couch once more, walking up to me with confident strides, reaching out for my hand. 

As I looked up at him, breath short and choppy, I couldn't pry my eyes away from his. I had always imagined what it would be like to look up at Roman from this angle, to see the sheer look of satisfaction on his face as I— Oh no, my mind was wandering again, wasn't it? I did my best not to shiver as I accepted his hand, feeling our fingers intertwine as he smoothly got me up from the floor.

I didn't even dare to look at Letha in this moment, knowing how she probably felt about it, but I really didn't have time to dwell on it— and it didn't take long before Roman closed the closet door behind us, pulling me back into the moment.

We were quiet for a few seconds, the sounds of our breathing filling the closet— I didn't know what to say or do. The beating of my heart was so loud that I could barely hear my own thoughts, and the light in the small room was dim and warm, making it a rather disorienting experience. It didn't take long before I felt my back hit the wall, letting out a little wince; the alcohol was definitely doing wonders for my balance. 

Roman snorted at the sight, emitting a soft laugh; "Careful, there," 

I let out the breath I had been holding, happy that he had been the first one to say something. "It's the vodka," I mumbled, rubbing the part of my head that had hit the wall. 

Roman hummed; "Typical,"

"What is?"

"That you can't handle your drinks,"

I wanted to smack him— that was allowed in seven minutes of heaven, right? "So what if I can't? It's not a big deal,"

"Sure," Roman said, nodding to himself. "You just need to be broken in or something." 

I wasn't the biggest fan of his choice of words— I was also not a fan of the thought of Roman breaking me more than he had already done, all whilst being completely unaware of it. Choosing not to comment on it further, I switched the subject; "So when was the last time you didn't do anything with a girl in this game?"

He needed a few seconds to scour his brain; "Never, I think,"

Typical. "Even back in middle school?"

"... Definitely,"

I held back a rather large groan— I should've predicted this. 

Roman caught onto my eventual silence; "And I reckon this is your first time playing?"

"... Yeah,"

"Okay, I see," Roman ran his fingers through his hair, the usual smirk returning. "You know what usually happens in here, or...?"

I rolled my eyes; "I'm not an idiot,"

"I know," Roman's voice got lower, breathier, as he took a step closer. There wasn't much room for more steps, actually— it was getting rather cramped up at this point. "But if there's anything you've always wanted to try out and haven't dared to, now's the time."

My breath hitched as I hoped the thumping of my heart wasn't loud enough for him to hear. There were many things I wanted to try out, sure, but not here.

It was almost as though Roman could sense how nervous I was; he bent down a little, getting on my level before he whispered; "I won't tell Letha,"

... Oh? Feeling his hot breath against my skin, how dangerously close he was, was almost too much for me. The way he said it made me even more conscious of what was happening; I hadn't even told Letha how crazy I was about Roman yet, and I knew she'd be against it.

However, I was being served my biggest dream on a silver platter. Maybe if I got this bit over with, my feelings would subside and go back to being purely hateful again? 

"Okay..." I mustered up the courage, letting out a shaky breath before I opened my mouth to speak; "Could you maybe... kiss me, then?" My words came out barely louder than a whisper. "I've just had a really shitty night."

Roman's expression remained unchanged. "I'm sorry to hear that,"

"... No, you're not,"

"Okay, you might be right," He let out a soft laugh against my lips, and my eyes quickly darted down to his hands to check if he was holding a needle or not. One could never be sure... and this was how I knew my anxiety was through the roof.

"So... you want a kiss? That's all?" Roman asked, looking rather pleased with himself and the situation.

This was too nerve-wracking. I kept imagining that he would switch up and tell me no, that he would reject me somehow and make me the only girl at school he didn't want to do anything with— that would definitely make me hate him even more. In a flash moment of weakness (which I later blamed the alcohol for), I sighed; "Just... could you? Or am I asking for too much?"

Something about Roman's expression changed— he seemed to realize what I was actually asking for before I fully understood it myself. Not to make out, not to drown in one another, but the simplest of all things romance; affection. Something gentle, something sweet, just to check if he had a sliver of anything resembling that in his system. 

"You like me, don't you?" Roman whispered, nudging his nose against mine, eyes rounding out as he heard my breath hitch at the simple gesture. "This is what all of this has been about?"

Doing my best to still my breathing and not faint, I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling. It was the smallest thing, yet it was a comfort in the midst of the conversation. "All of what?"

"Your anger," Roman let out a sigh, connecting our foreheads, closing his eyes as well. "You can't stand that you like me, can you?"

For some reason, I felt the urge to cry— I spent a few seconds pressing down the stream of tears that threatened to surface. Having someone say it out loud felt like a desperately needed release. "It's been a nightmare,"

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

For fuck's sake. I mumbled a curse as Roman laughed, clearly amused by the terrified look on my face. "No, I wouldn't do that," he teased, pulling away just a bit. "I'm not that bad, you know that, right?"

I huffed, not meeting his gaze anymore. Confessing to liking him had given him all the power over me in the world. "I don't know... You tend to be quite horrible,"

"And what horrible things do I do, may I ask?"

Oh, I was ready for this question— I had been ready for a while. "First of all, the fucking tater tots," I grumbled, meeting his amused eyes. "The fact that you pull my hair like you're five years old, you've drawn about a hundred dicks in my chemistry book, and the whole needle thing!"

"Needle thing?" Roman furrowed his brows— damn, he and Letha really had the same face, didn't they? 

"Yeah, the needle thing! Brooke told us!" Something about the confusion on his face felt rather satisfactory; your turn. "You pricked her and her friend Rachel and just... laughed, or something!"

Remembering the incident, Roman burst out laughing. "Oh, that!" he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Yeah, that was fun, I can't lie. So, okay, maybe I'm a bit bad, but... you still like me." His eyes were sparkling with mischief, and I knew it could lead to no good. "You still want to kiss me, so you can't be too scared? Or maybe..." Roman's hand travelled up to my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear as he smirked. "Maybe you're just a massive masochist?"

"What? No!" My protests were quick and loud— I wondered what the people outside this closet thought we were doing. "Roman, just... Ugh, fuck this, I'm leaving."

As I reached for the door, Roman grabbed my hand with force I hadn't expected of him, pinning it above my head against the wall. Like this, he was even closer to me than he had been just under a minute ago, and my eyes went wide with the realization that I could physically feel his bottom lip against mine, not yet coming together in the kiss I so desperately craved.

"I'm not going to make this easy for you," he whispered, words slow and low. Something about this whole situation was so intense, I nearly gave in to a shiver. "Whatever this will be, you and I... won't be easy."

"There is no you and I," I mumbled, feeling my heart beat up against his chest. "We do this once, and then we forget it." Please.

Roman hummed, a cocky grin spreading across his plush, pink lips. "You think you'll be able to? I have a feeling you've wanted me for a while,"

Fuck's sake. I hated him even more when he was right. My gaze hardened as it met his, and I wondered how much time we had left. No matter how mad I was at him, I still wanted to kiss him, just once. This might be the only chance I'd ever get, and I was going to take it. 

"Okay, then," Roman accepted my silence as an answer. Nudging my nose with his, he finally pressed his lips against mine with a softness I didn't know he had in him. 

This was not what I had expected. Something about this kiss was shaking up my whole view of the world, along with my view of Roman. The most obnoxious guy with an unmatched arrogance could... kiss like this? Like he actually had a soul? 

His lips moved against mine as though I was made of glass, and I felt his fingers intertwine with mine in the hand he was holding above my head. It sent shivers down my spine as my mind went haywire, wondering why he was being so careful with me. I brought my free hand up to cup his face, feeling how soft he was against my palm. I had expected him to be rough, aggressive... so what on earth was this?

Roman's arm snaked around my waist as he pulled me closer, and I let out a shaky breath against his lips— heat swirled in the pit of my stomach, feeling as though I was burning up from inside. 

But just as it started to get heated, two knocks were heard at the door; Roman pulled away, a victorious smirk in place as though he had successfully proved his point. "Thirty seconds left," he said. "Now, convince me why I shouldn't tell Letha."

What? Still trying to catch my breath, I felt myself freeze up. How was I supposed to think clearly when I was in this state? Roman's hand slid out of mine, waiting for my answer; "So?"

"Just don't," I breathed, putting a hand on my chest to feel my heart— did all of this just happen? "Don't tell her."

"That's not good enough," His green eyes were drilling into mine, and it was clear that he wished to corner me. Sadist.

"I'll do your stupid assignment,"

"Nope,"

"I'll... fuck, Roman, I don't know!" 

Roman snickered at my panic, fixing his hair, checking his clock; ten seconds left. "Fine, I'll be nice," he said, reaching out to swipe his thumb along the edge of my lip, wiping away some lipstick. "But you owe me."

Owe him? I wasn't the biggest fan of making a deal with the devil reincarnate in front of me. However, did I have any other choice? I let out a sigh of defeat; "... Fine,"

And this was when it truly hit me; I hated Roman Godfrey with all my heart— I hated the fact that he could make my heart flutter with the smallest gesture, that he could practically walk all over me with no remorse, and that he always looked so fucking good. 

However, at the end of the day, what I hated most... was how much I wanted him.

"I-- I can't keep going," I held Roman close to me, letting out a small yelp against his neck as my hips moved away from his, aching and overstimulated. 

Something was a little different about him today-- Roman usually gave me time to adjust to his length before completely ravaging me like this, but tonight was different. I had an inkling that it turned him on to hear me whimper beneath him like this, that he couldn't help but enjoy the way my walls fluttered around him in a mix of exhaustion and desperation. 

"Aw," Roman breathed, his hand in my hair tightening as he spoke against my ear; "Too bad. Don't care."

I let out a small cry, my nails digging into his broad back. I knew I had a habit of getting overstimulated rather quickly, but I swore that something was different, I was sure of it-- was it maybe the fact that we had a little fight this morning? Did Roman need to take his frustration out on me like this? There wasn't any time to think about it, but there was one thing I could be sure of; and that was that Roman loved pushing me beyond the point of tears, and loved the way my eyes glossed over as they met his, looking like a complete and utter mess.

I spotted his growing smirk before he leaned down to kiss my neck, and I couldn't help but whimper at the force he was slamming his hips into mine. My broken noises didn't get any softer when my warmth swallowed him completely, feeling his cock go deep to the hilt. "Rome--" I let my head roll back down against my pillow, my legs wrapping around him as he continued his harsh thrusts. I knew he was being too rough with me, but the feeling of being pounded like this nearly turned me mute.

And weirdly enough, a part of me enjoyed it. Knowing that Roman had this power over me, the ability to make me feel nothing but engulfed by him, somehow made the pain subside into a darker pleasure than I was used to. Something about it felt... satisfactory.

Roman gripped my waist, nipping at my jaw as he let out a laboured grunt. I squeezed my eyes shut, crying out at the multiple sensations coursing through my veins as he murmured pure filth against my skin. 

"Act like a brat and I'll treat you like a brat," Roman purred, biting down on my earlobe-- something told me he was enjoying himself a little extra tonight. 

"Am not," was all I managed to say, whimpering as he continuously drove himself deep into me. 

This was seemingly not the right thing to say-- Roman wasted no time roughly grabbing my cheeks in one hand, my lips parting as I stared up at him with eyes full of tears. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, an apparent sadistic smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

I knew I would be in big trouble if I didn't stop going against him. "Sorry," My legs gave in to a quiver, wrapping around him even tighter as he let go of my cheeks. "Rome, please--" I didn't have time to finish my plea, letting out a loud whimper as he brought his hand down to press his palm against my lower abdomen, feeling himself rut into me. Roman let out a low, sinister laugh, clearly in awe at the sensation; I wanted nothing more than to hit him. But still, like a slave to the pleasure, I dug my nails further into his back instead, earning a rather lewd moan from him which usually was a rarity.

Roman's arms wrapped around my waist, moving me against him; despite how harsh he was being with me, I could at least find comfort in the closeness. My hard nipples brushed up against his chest, his lips pressing heated kisses against my body and mouth. Oh, the way he was holding me with complete and utter need-- if he hadn't been so harsh, I would've been floating around on cloud nine. "Please, Rome-- I really can't," 

With a grunt, Roman pulled his cock out only till the tip was left. I let out a sigh of relief; I had hope that he would maybe pull out, maybe take it easy on me, pity me, but I should've known better. It didn't take long before Roman drove himself back into me, my walls clenching around him as I cried out, hearing him let out a satisfied moan against my ear which had me shivering.  "What was that?" he hummed, his grip around my waist tightening, almost as a warning. An ominous laugh escaped him, the green of his eyes practically engulfing me as he spoke; "Oh, baby, look at you... Are you crying? You asked for it, you know that, right?"

I could only whimper, a wave of oddly satisfactory defeat washing over me. Something about the way he was taunting me was making my stomach flutter. It felt as though I was completely submerged in everything Roman--  the dizzying scent of his cologne that I inhaled through my nose, his lips against my mouth and throat every so often, and his tongue against mine. It eventually became hard to breathe, and my eyes glossed over once more as Roman's thrusts grew rougher, taking more liberties than he would usually dare to. 

"Try that again," he said, urging me on. It was obvious that Roman knew what I was trying to say, but he was being particularly mean today.

"I can't--" My words came out along with another cry, gripping onto him the same way he was gripping onto me. It felt as though today's session served as a reminder more than anything else; that I was his, no matter what, and that he would do as he pleased with me. Roman's rough thrusts grounded me, wordlessly telling me I belonged to him, and it made me feel as though he was diminishing my self-worth with every pump of his cock. It was starting to feel too rough, too raw; "Shit, wait, Rome--" I barely managed to get anything out without a stutter, burying my face against the bare skin of his broad shoulders.

Roman let out a laugh; "Aw, is someone getting sore?" 

I could only whimper as he dug himself into me repeatedly, my whole body aching, my hips squirming away from him again-- Roman responded by grabbing me rather harshly, holding me down. I knew he wasn't going to let me go without a proper fight, without me saying the word, and that made more tears pool in my eyes.

"A-Aah--" My hands flew down to grab the ones he had on my waist, arching my back against the bed as my body started to reject his thrusts. I felt myself squirm, groaning in a mix of pleasure and pain-- I knew that I had to go for my last resort, despite never having had use for it before. "Red!" I cried out, my nails digging into his skin, a sob building in my chest.

In an instant, Roman froze up, his grip around my body lifting within a second. He propped himself up on his elbows as his widening eyes met mine-- it seemed he had only now registered what he was truly doing to me. "Sorry," he tried, reaching for my face with wary movements, shifting on the bed. "Too much?"

Sniffling, a single tear rolled down my face as I nodded, leaving behind a wet spot on my pillow.

"Fuck, look at you," Roman whispered, gently grabbing at my jaw, hoping to ground me. "Your heart is beating so fast... Should I pull out?"

I let out a shaky breath, holding back any other tears. I had never actually had to use the safeword before, and this whole experience was beyond dizzying. How could Roman go from being someone so mean, callous, rough, and then suddenly go back to normal?

"Hey, talk to me," Roman's thumb stroked my cheek, another attempt at bringing me back. "What can I do for you?" 

Amid my daze, I was made aware of his cock still being inside me when it jerked upwards, throbbing involuntarily against my fluttering walls. Roman hissed, clearly conflicted between the feeling of pleasure and embarrassment; "Shit, sorry... It has a life of its own," 

Something about that made me giggle through my tears, a breathy laugh building in my chest. Seeing Roman like this, clearly out of his rough and mean state, made me ease up. The feeling of arousal was still coursing through my veins, burning in the tips of my fingers, aching between my legs-- I wasn't quite ready to stop. "If you promise to be gentle... I'd like to continue,"

With a relieved sigh, Roman leaned forward to press a sweet kiss against my forehead. "Of course," he whispered, nudging his nose against mine, his breath hot against my lips. "Let me make it up to you, hm?"

"Sounds good," I breathed, meeting his lips in a soft and open kiss, coming together like missing pieces of a puzzle, completely different from the way we had been kissing a minute ago. This felt so much better-- we were connected as one.

Roman pulled out of me, making sure to be careful. He grabbed my tear-stained pillow, placing it beneath my hips as he sat himself up on his knees. "I'll go easy on you, kid," he murmured, his thumb moving down to my clit, gathering my slick so that he could rub small, tight circles around it. "Gonna make you feel real good, okay?"

I let out a soft moan, my chest fluttering with warmth at his gentle touches. My eyes rounded out, meeting his with a newfound satisfaction and love. 

Roman gripped himself with his free hand, rubbing his tip against my aching sex, a grunt slipping past his kiss-swollen lips as he slid back into me, the wet sound of our reunion making goosebumps appear along my skin. This time, he made sure not to go all the way into me, finally giving me time to adjust to his length. 

Roman's thumb was still circling my clit with a toe-curling pressure as he found a nice, steady rhythm to keep at. From this position, I could watch as his usually styled hair fell in front of his green eyes, kissing his forehead as his lips parted in pleasure-- it was impossible to take my eyes off of him. 

Roman's gaze was glued to the image before him, letting out a shaky groan as his fingers went up and down my stomach, taking in the view. During moments like these, I really felt like the most beautiful creature on earth; what other explanation could there be for how he was looking at me right now? 

It didn't take long before I started to feel close-- we had been going on for so long that the softness of his demeanour had me closer to my climax much quicker than usual. Luckily, Roman knew me well enough to see the signs, recognizing the way my back arched, the way my hands reached for his. He intertwined our fingers with his free hand; "I have half the mind to keep you on the edge," he purred, a smirk reappearing on his lips.

I let out a broken whimper; "Please,"

"Please what?"

"Be nice," 

Roman chuckled, nodding to himself as he retreated his teases. He let go of my fingers to grab my hips, letting out a groan as my walls tightened around him; "Shit-- Okay, okay,"

Oh, I was so crazy about him. So, so in awe of Roman and everything that followed. Love-drunk words slipped past his lips as his thrusts pressed up against that special spot inside me, simultaneously keeping the tight pressure around my swollen clit, making me mewl out in desperation; "Close, fuck!--"

Roman let out a soft laugh as my fingers gripped his arm, digging into his skin as I clamped around him, wordlessly begging for my release. My heart pounded in my ears as he gave a few final thrusts, fucking me right into my orgasm; I writhed beneath him, a moaning mess, feeling satiated and complete. I bucked up against his hand, the post-coital overstimulation hitting me like a hard wave, letting out a few broken whimpers and silent pleas. 

It didn't take a lot of begging for Roman's cock to twitch with his orgasm, and he pulled out with haste, letting out a string of soft grunts as ropes of cum decorated my stomach. 

As our heavy breathing and panting filled the room, I reached out for Roman, who in turn lied down next to me, pressing a kiss against my cheek. I let out a relieved giggle, turning to connect our lips in a lazy, sweet kiss that had my whole body fluttering with warmth. Watching as Roman closed his eyes, sighing in exhaustion, my attention turned to the mess he had made on my stomach. 

My hand dipped down into the pool of cum forming on my lower abdomen, coaxing my finger with a sly smirk; I brought it up to his lips, leaving a streak of the slick on his lip.

Normally, Roman would wipe it off with a grimace and eventually laugh it off. 

However, today was different-- I had known it from the start. Roman leaned forward with a cheeky smirk, lazily connecting our lips, the taste of his cum lingering on my tongue throughout the remainder of the night.

I was sure he'd never admit to finding that hot, but I knew it. I was more sure of that than anything else.

I hadn't noticed Roman was home before I walked past the balcony.

It was about three in the morning, which was an odd time for him to return from work. Or had he arrived back earlier?-- I had been asleep, so there was no way for me to know. I never waited up for him anymore, as he was usually either grumpy or completely exhausted. He wouldn't exactly take it out on me, but I was still unsure how to deal with his mood swings ever since his upir cravings got worse. 

Maybe our marriage wasn't perfect, but it had its moments. Moments such as these.

I watched as Roman leaned against the balcony railing, clearly deep in thought as he smoked a cigarette. He was still wearing his suit, not having bothered to get out of his work attire. On top of that, it was clear that he had been ripping at his hair because it looked like an absolute mess. With quiet steps, I joined his side, not saying a word. I could only look at him, revel in the upward curve of his nose, the pout of his lips, and the way he lazily balanced the cigarette between his fingers. 

"Hey, gorgeous," I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "How are you?"

Roman hummed, exhaling a cloud of smoke through his nose. It was clear that his mind was elsewhere. "I've been here for fifteen minutes and this is my sixth cigarette. I think I'm slowly going insane,"

It wasn't unusual for Roman to get into these depressive ruts-- it would often happen when work got a little crazy and Pryce wouldn't get off his case. "You're not going insane," I stepped away from the balcony, wrapping my arms around my husband from behind. "You just need to get some sleep... Come to bed." My words were muffled against his broad back, pressing a kiss through his suit. 

Roman sighed, running his free hand over my fingers, feeling how small I was against him. "I already slept an hour in my office," 

Typical. "An hour isn't enough,"

"Well, I'm not sleepy anymore, and that's all that counts," Roman stumped the cigarette against the railing, another sigh escaping him. "But don't let me keep you up."

I nuzzled my face against his back, inhaling the scent of his cologne; I had missed him today. "I don't want to go back to bed without my husband," 

"It wouldn't be the first time,"

I rolled my eyes-- enough was enough. His self-deprecation could be downright annoying sometimes, mostly because he was more stubborn than a donkey. "Talk to me, Rome, what's on your mind?"

Roman gave in, turning to me. Like this, I could see the way the bags under his eyes had darkened since this morning and the way his eyelids were halfway drooped into a look of exhaustion. "It just... hit me today that all my ties are silk,"

"... What?"

"Silk," Roman echoed, and he had a hollow look about him as he wrapped his arms around me. He put his head on top of mine before burying his nose in my hair, inhaling sharply. "The devil wrapped in silk is still the devil."

It didn't take long for me to realize that he was talking about his urges again. "You're not the devil, Roman," I drew small circles on his back, hoping to soothe him. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd had something to drink on top of this. "You're working through it and you're doing well. Do you not realize that?"

He hummed; "It's just not fair to you," Roman's hands went up in my hair, pulling me tighter against his chest. "I want to grow old with you, but sometimes I wonder whether it was a good decision to get married... Whether I shouldn't have been selfish enough to drag you down with me."

I put my hands against his chest, slowly pushing myself away. This was a different speech from his usual sad ones-- this was new. "... What are you saying?"

Exasperated, Roman groaned as he turned away from me, leaning over the railing once more. He dragged his hands through his hair, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "I don't-- I don't know, okay? I just want Pryce's treatments to work, to be rid of whatever the fuck I've become, and just... Fuck! I hear the beating of my heart all the time and it's driving me fucking crazy!" He drove his elbows down against the surface, covering his ears as though it would help. 

My body was begging for me to go back to sleep, but my heart was actively shattering at the sight of Roman so broken. I took slow steps towards him; with wary movements, my fingers dipped into the jacket of his suit, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. My other hand went into the front pocket of his trousers, fishing out his lighter. I wasn't the biggest endorser of smoking, but I knew exactly why Roman did it-- it slowed down his heart, making it easier to bear the constant sound of his blood pulsing through his veins. 

I put the cigarette between my lips, now feeling Roman's glossy eyes on me. Lighting it, taking a rather long drag myself, I made my way between his arms. I balanced the cigarette between my fingers, holding it up in front of his mouth, and it didn't take long before he accepted it, wrapping his plush lips around it with a satisfied sigh. 

Something about the look of relief on Roman's face gave my heart the ease it had needed all day. Knowing I could be the one to soothe him, to bring him down from his panic, assured me that we were good for each other after all. 

I reached out for his tie, feeling the silk between the pads of my fingers. "When you're not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives," My hands left his tie, now resting against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart against my palm. "You've cut your tongue so many times that when life hands you a flower, you can't quite make out what it is. It takes time, Roman. Marriage takes time."

The smoke from the cigarette wrapped around us like a warm duvet, the warm summer breeze blowing it away with soft strokes. A kind, subtle smile spread across Roman's lips, finding solace in my words. His free hand traveled down to rest against the small of my back, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against my forehead. "Sometimes at work, I have thoughts of simply dissolving into you," he murmured, pulling away to take another drag before continuing. "It's unexplainable, but the thought is always there... and there's nothing I want more than that."

I let out the breath I had been holding, glad to see him calm again. "Are we talking sex?"

The laugh that followed made my heart sing; "You'd think so, but that's not how I meant it," Roman took a final drag, putting out the cigarette and tossing it away somewhere. "Although... I could mean it like that."

"Of course you could," I got up on my toes to give his neck a sweet kiss, knowing I couldn't reach up to his face. "But I think our first priority would be to get some sleep, and then we'll see what we can do in the morning if we have time." 

Roman bit his lower lip, suppressing a cheeky grin. His green eyes sparkled with the familiar look of want, and I immediately knew he was up to no good. "I have to disagree... I think the first priority would be to get you out of my shirt,"

My eyes widened-- I had forgotten that I was wearing it. In my defense, it was easier to fall asleep when he was away if I wore it. "What, you want it back or something?"

"No," Roman's voice dropped as his hands went down to grab at my waist. "Just want it off."

"It's three in the morning!--"

"And since when did we care about that?" He didn't even try to suppress his growing smirk anymore, and I watched his pupils dilate in real time as ideas soared through his dirty, dirty mind. It didn't take much time before Roman took my hand into his, bringing it up to his mouth to press a wet kiss against my knuckles. My breath hitched, having missed the sensation of his lips against my body. But suddenly, he lowered my hand and pressed it up against himself, leaving me breathless and in shock. 

Roman gave in to a laugh at the expression on my face, leaning down to press a kiss against the underside of my jaw. "Are you really going to deny me when I'm in a suit? That always works like a killer on you,"

And he was definitely right about that-- everything about him right now made me want to jump him. "Who said anything about denying you?" I mumbled, rubbing him through his trousers, my fingers feeling along each divot and ridge of his length. Swallowing hard, I realized I could feel him grow harder beneath my palm. "I just don't think we should be doing this on the balcony..."

Roman hummed, a low moan vibrating in his chest; "Yeah, good idea," I barely had time to register what was happening before his big arms wrapped around me, hoisting me over his shoulder as I yelped. It always surprised me that he could lift me as though I weighed nothing, and I laughed against his back as he made his way back into the house with a strong grip around me. 

"Rome, for fuck's sake!" I couldn't stop the trail of giggles escaping me, happy to see this side of my husband again. "You can't be serious-- Hey!" The squeak that escaped me was unlike anything I had heard coming from my mouth before, but how else was I to react as Roman struck his hand against my ass? Something about the sting was both painful and weirdly arousing-- I couldn't put my finger on it. Was this my lack of sleep talking?

Roman proceeded to chuckle, leading us into the bedroom. "Of course I'm serious," It didn't take long before he laid me down on the bed, crawling over to me like a predator. "I'm a serious man, you know me." 

"Yeah, right," 

As Roman made space for himself between my legs, I couldn't help but fling my arms around his neck to pull him close. I had waited for him to come home all evening to do just this-- the bliss that filled my body as our lips finally met was unmatched by any other heavenly feeling on earth. "I've wanted you all day," I purred against him, feeling the hardness of his cock twitching against me. 

"Don't say that shit," he whispered back, letting out a shaky breath as he raised himself up. "Makes me feel like I'm going to burst."

I bit down a giggle, my hands reaching for him once more. "Oh, come on, it hasn't been that long since last time!"

"... Three days?"

"Three days?!" I could barely believe it-- this was outrageous. Blinking rapidly, I watched as Roman's smirk reappeared, now leaning back down to capture my lips in a soft, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him and the fabric of his suit. "Well, I've been busy... and you've been out a lot," he murmured against my lips, his hot breath against my mouth making me shiver. "It's almost as though I need to make sure you're always here waiting for me... Because there's no way in hell I'll let another three days pass before I fuck you again."

I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at, but I liked the sound of it. I liked everything about this actually-- his tongue against mine, my hands in his hair, the feeling of our hearts beating at each other through our chests. But suddenly, the weight of him disappeared off me, and before I knew it, Roman's green eyes practically pierced me as he knelt before me, my legs creasing at his thighs. 

I knew this look. This look of lust, love, and mischief; I couldn't take my eyes off of him. The way his chest heaved, the way he stared down at me through his brows, and the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smirk made my stomach flutter. 

It only dawned on me what Roman actually meant when his hands went up to his tie. Silk. My eyes widened; "Oh God, Rome--"

"Let's strike a deal," he purred, drawing the black tie through his fingers as he licked his lips. "Deal with the devil, if you like. Your little wish for mine."

I nearly shuddered, feeling my pulse quicken. "And what is it that I wish?"

Roman's chuckle was darker than expected. Something told me he had wanted to do this for a while. "I know you have an affinity for my suits, so I'll keep it on. And you... will stay still," 

Stay still? I could only squeal as Roman grabbed my hips, moving me further up the bed with ease. My breaths came out in short, ragged motions as he took my wrists into his big hand, tying them to the headboard with the other. The mix of the situation and my lack of sleep made me light-headed; "Rome," I mewled out against his chest, looking up to try to meet his eyes. I let out a quiet hiss as he tightened the tie around my wrists, watching as he made sure there wasn't much wiggle room.

This was something new. 

"Perfect," Roman said, mostly to himself, before taking my face into his hands to press a wet kiss against my lips. "Fuck, this is perfect... Let's just stay like this forever, hm?"

My heart fluttered, and I had to swallow rather hard as he made his way down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses along my body. It was hard to say no to a man towering well over six feet dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit. I squirmed against my restraints, my lashes fluttering as I remembered how sleepy I actually was-- but the tie was tied tightly around my wrists, and there was nowhere for me to go. "Since when do you have the energy to do this at three am?" I tried, hoping to stop my breath from hitching as his hands neared the hem of my shirt.

Roman took his time with giving me a response, his fingers now grazing my bare skin, leaving me shivering with anticipation. "You know you're talking about your husband, right?" he said, pushing my shirt further up as he spoke. "Were three days enough to make you forget that I always have energy for this?"

Before I had the opportunity to answer, Roman leaned down to lick a wet stripe up my stomach. I let out a broken moan, tugging at my restraints once more, squirming beneath him. "Rome, shit--" As he paired his licks up with kisses, I quickly felt my arousal pooling between my legs; there was no going back now.

We had never actually talked about tying me up like this, and I wasn't sure whether this was torturous or pleasurable. All I wanted was to reach down and run my fingers through his hair, tug him closer, feel him-- everything about the denial made me further desperate. 

Seeing as I was dressed for bed, I wasn't wearing a bra; something told me that my husband approved. It didn't take long before my shirt was at my arms, Roman's lips wrapped around an aching bud as he sucked at me. I could only write and moan, feeling completely breathless. "I can't-- Fuck, Roman," 

It felt as though the smell of cigarettes swallowed me whole, dragging me deep into the depths of my arousal. My hips bucked up against him, desperate for more, but all my attempts were shut down when Roman grabbed my hips and pinned me down to the bed. "Behave," he said, a low grunt following as his grip on me tightened. 

Hearing that word, I knew I was screwed. It suddenly became very, very apparent that Roman was in one of those moods-- this was usually the side of him that would come out when he felt like everything around him was spinning out of control, meaning he had to control the only thing he felt he could; me. 

And with me being tied up and all, I couldn't help but comply. 

"Sweetheart?" Roman shifted, making sure he had my attention before he sat up. Slowly, his hand inched down to his zipper, a cheeky smirk spreading across his lips. "I've had such a tough day, and seeing you like this is really making it all feel better... But I wanna see how pretty you look with your lips around my cock."

The teasing tone in his low voice was enough to drive me crazy. Along with that, the proper look about him had me struggling to breathe. There was something tantalizing about the fact that America's youngest CEO was right here, married to me, wanting and needing me. So when Roman unzipped his trousers, leading his hard cock to my mouth, I gladly accepted it.

I slid just the tip of my tongue up the underside, so light he could barely feel it-- it was mostly just the sensation of my breath. Judging by the sound of Roman's breath hitching and the slight twitch of his cock, I knew I was on the right track. I gave the tip a gentle kiss before giggling to myself, not having to look up to know he was blushing. "For fuck's sake," he breathed, reaching down to grab a full fist of my hair, pulling me closer. 

This was his way of politely saying please.

So I gave in, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock, sucking him in, and tasting the drop of pre-cum that immediately landed on my tongue. It was followed by a downright lewd moan from Roman, who loosened the grip on my hair before throwing his head back just a little. I couldn't help but glance up at him, so prim and proper in his suit, yet completely unraveled by the slightest touch. 

And since my hands were tied and I couldn't touch him, I reveled in the fact that I could taste him. Which is why, when Roman pulled out of my mouth with a rather wet pop, I pouted up at him as he made his way back down. But my pout quickly faded as my lips parted, my breath escaping me as he rubbed the tip of his cock over my chest. "You're too damn pretty," Roman said as he stroked himself at the sight of me. "Do you want my mouth on you before we go?"

"Yes, please," The ache between my legs almost burned-- there was nothing I wanted more in the world.

It didn't take long before Roman tucked himself back into his pants and moved down my body with eager kisses, and the anticipation nearly had me panting so hard that I was sure I might pass out. But the tension in my body quickly dissolved as Roman pulled my pyjama shorts aside, licking a wet stripe up my sex, which made my back arch off the bed. My hands strained against the tie, letting out a weak groan-- I was dying to bury my hands in his hair. 

"You're already so wet," Roman purred, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit. "Could've fucked you already." His fingers dug into my hips to hold me down, sucking me in as his lips covered my mound. It felt so intense, that I could barely hear my own thoughts; I heaved in sharp breaths of air, squeezing my eyes shut as I struggled against my restraints. It only got worse when Roman's tongue slid over my sopping entrance, entering me, fucking me-- I was sure I was dreaming.

It was too much. Especially when he cupped my breasts, pinching my nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. I could only cry out, my fingers gripping harshly around the tie. My overstimulation washed over me like a wave, and I was sure it was due to my lack of sleep. "Roman, please, I can't... I want you in me-- A-Aah," I couldn't stop the way my hips bucked against him, nor the way my gaze darted down to watch his eyes falling shut as he savoured me, his thick, long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks.

Thankfully, my husband wasn't in the mood to keep me on the edge tonight. Roman got up, a knowing smirk spreading across his slicked lips. "I might have to tie you up like this more often," he said, palming himself through his suit. "This is quite the sight."

From his perspective, I could understand this-- it wasn't every day that he saw his wife splayed out like this, t-shirt draped just above her bare chest, and completely at his mercy. On the other hand, I was sure I had gotten just as good of a bargain. I had been begging Roman to fuck me in one of his suits, and here he was, finally complying. If this wasn't love, then I couldn't be sure. 

"Oh, you should see yourself," I purred, biting back a grin. "Mr. CEO... All mine."

Roman let out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss against my lower abdomen as he pulled off my pyjama bottoms. "Always been yours,"

I could only sigh, feeling a surge of warmth coursing through my veins. At the end of the day, it was true-- Roman was mine, and I was his. Bonded together through our testimony, before the law, and before all things celestial. Everything about this would've been perfect if I wasn't bonded to the bed as well. My wrists were starting to ache, but I didn't have much time to think about that as I felt Roman entering me, a low grunt escaping him. I couldn't help but shudder, feeling the familiar stretch and fullness I had been craving for so long, and I struggled against my restraints as I cried out in pleasure.

Roman kept one hand planted on my hip, the other one gripping hard at my thigh. Seeing the expression on his face was nearly enough to make me moan-- Fuck, how I had missed this. The feeling of his cock inside me, the feeling of his hands on me, and being completely at his mercy. He had thankfully learned to be a little gentle with me at the start, and I felt his green eyes on me as I closed mine, lips parting at the sensation of feeling him thrust into me with slow strokes. Heaven, heaven-- it was impossible that such pleasure could be dealt by the hands of a devil. 

"Shit," Roman's hands gripped my waist, a need growing with each pump of his cock. He was so damn gorgeous, his sharp jawline twitching as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. It didn't take long before he grew impatient-- he shifted, the next snap of his hips digging his cock completely to the hilt in my warmth, a soft moan escaping him as my walls fluttered around his length.

My breath hitched, letting out a string of curse words. "Rome, please," The tie around my wrists was starting to drive me mad; "I want-- A-Ah, wanna touch you..."

I wasn't sure whether Roman was hearing me or not, his lips parting in pleasure. Eventually, he leaned forward, his mouth crashing onto mine, holding me close as I moaned against him between kisses. Now that he was even closer, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and feel the fabric of his suit against my body, fulfilling my deepest fantasy. "Please," I breathed, my back arching as his cock brushed past my sweet spot. "Rome, please..."

I could feel him smirk against my mouth, and Roman pulled back to watch the absolute desperation swimming in my eyes. "What was that?" As he waited for my response, he pulled out until only the tip of him remained in me.

For fuck's sake-- "Please!" I cried, struggling against my restraints. "I can't... I can't--"

A sense of victory flashed through Roman's green eyes, traces of a darker satisfaction spreading across his lips as he thrust all the way back into me, watching me writhe and moan beneath him, fighting the urge to rip the tie to shreds to embrace him. "Fine," he said, leaning forward to clasp my wrists, smirking as his breath landed hot against my lips.

A moan mixed in with the sigh I let out, my hands immediately flying up into his hair as the tie was tossed away somewhere on the floor. Roman laughed against the kiss I dragged him into, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his lap, his cock still in me. "That was so much fun," he purred against my lips, grabbing my ass to drive me up and down along his slicked length. "We're doing that again."

"Fuck you," I pulled Roman tightly against my chest, feeling his arms snake themselves around me with the same intensity. It hit me how much I loved the feeling of him against me, how warm he was today, and how insanely hot he looked in that damn suit. Our lips came together in open, soft kisses, breathing against each other as our eyes locked, intense pleasure coursing through our bodies.

Roman was most certainly not the devil, and I could confidently conclude with that. However, I couldn't deny that he liked to play the most devilish games at the most inappropriate times-- but I had never loved my husband more than I did at this moment, right now. 

I hate September. It's either when school starts, or when I'm on vacation having the time of my life. 

Now, don't get me wrong; I love vacations. Especially since my recent get-aways have taken place in France because my father got a job there. And who am I to say no to free accomodation in the most romantic city in the world?

But being single in the most romantic city in the world is absolute torture— why had no one bothered to inform me of this? 

September was the peak month for tourism in Paris; the place was swarmed with couples, either completely fresh or on their honeymoon. Everything about it had me rolling my eyes— My favourite activity was to sit at different cafés around the city, giving rude stares to the happy couples passing by. I suppose it made me feel better about myself... although I would never say that out loud. 

My activites of bitterness would eventually end up being interrupted by a young man who sat down next to me one morning, completely uninvited, with a newspaper in hand. Something about it felt old-school, classic, but also annoying— did he not know that you shouldn't seat yourself this close to a stranger? Especially when there are other seats around?

I moved my nasty glare from the young couple passing us by, now watching the man next to me push my morning tea to my edge of the table to make space for his coffee. That was my last straw; "Pardon?"

He looked up from his paper, quirking a brow at me. "Yes?"

Okay, good-- I was relieved to hear that he spoke english. To demonstrate, I glanced around the practically empty café, waving my arms at the vacant spaces with a rather outraged look in my eyes. "Are you maybe new to Paris? There's a certain etiquette at cafés' here. You don't sit down next to strangers like this when the whole place is available,"

The man shrugged, folding his newspaper in his lap. "I think it might be you that is new to Paris," he said, his strikingly green eyes finding mine with intense challenge before he continued; "My family are patrons of this place, and this is my table. And it was my mother's before me, and my grandfather's before her. I thought I was nice by not telling you to move, but I most certainly could?"

My jaw fell, outraged. "What is this, middle school? There aren't assigned seats and tables out in public!"

"Actually, there are. And you're sitting at my table," He reached for his cup of coffee, not breaking eye-contact. "Care to move?"

Something about him was terrifyingly intimidating, but there was no way in hell I'd back down. Just as I was about to open my mouth and snap back once more, I couldn't help but take a few seconds to take in the sight of him; he was wearing a suit at around ten in the morning, his brown hair was gelled back tastefully, and I recognized his enormous watch from the ads around every bus stop in Paris. Was that seriously the newest Rolex? My mouth started to feel drier than a desert— who was this guy? Had I not seen him somewhere before? 

However, no matter what watch he wore, whether his mother and grandfather liked this table too, he still deserved to be told off for being such a stuck up prick. "I'm not going to move. I was here first,"

The stranger rolled his eyes, letting out an obnoxiously loud sigh. "Could we please not do this before the clock has even struck twelve? Be a good little girl and scram, please,"

"Excuse me?" Everything about this was outrageous; did he really think he could talk to me like that? "Sorry, who the hell do you think you are?—"

My rant was quickly cut off; "Hold on," he said, holding out his finger in front of my face as he watched a seemingly new couple pass us. His mouth curved up into a sneer, shaking his head in dismay as he glared at them; "I think these couples all around town are more annoying than you, can you believe it? They're fucking everywhere." He eventually turned back to me, now holding his hand out for me to take. "I'm Roman. And you?"

Roman? I was getting closer and closer to piecing together where I had seen him before— it was right on the tip of my tongue. Introducing myself, I warily shook his hand, unsure where this was leading to. "At least we can agree that the lovebirds are polluting the city,"

Roman's eyes rounded out, an amused look shimmering in his eyes. "I think I said that exact thing earlier today... Funny," 

It was clear that the atmosphere had changed. This would be the first time I ever bonded with a stranger over something so bitter. "Earlier than this? What were you doing up so early?" I decided that I'd entertain whatever this was.

With a shrug, Roman ran his fingers through his styled hair, checking whether it was still holding its form or not. "Just a meeting. I think I slept through most of it, actually,"

I held back a snort, nodding along with words. Then suddenly, it was as though a lightbulb appeared above my head— meeting? Just as I was about to ask him what he did for work, a rather loud bus passed us, and I couldn't believe who it was on the ad on the front of it.

Blinking rapidly, I kept waiting for the face on the bus to morph into someone else. Were my eyes deceiving me? Unable to keep still, I moved to the edge of my seat, my lips parting in shock at the realization that the man on the ad was the same as the one sitting next to me. 

Godfrey Industries - A Brighter Tomorrow. Beneath the bold text was his name, along with the title of world's youngest CEO. 

"There is no way in hell," I mumbled, turning to Roman with a horrified look on my face.

In turn, he bit back an obnoxious smirk. "I fucking hate that bus,"

"It has your face on it,"

"I hate that picture,"

I shrugged; "Why? It's a good one,"

Raising his brows, Roman snickered, leaning back against his chair with a casual manspread. "What, so now you say I look good? Quite the girl I've met on the streets of Paris,"

"Not on the streets," I mumbled, reaching for my cup of tea. "That makes me sound like a hooker."

"... You're right, my bad," Roman watched as I sipped my drink, and he put away his newspaper on a chair close by. "I bet a hundred bucks that your face will be all across the next bus that passes, though."

My brows drew together, huffing as I put down my tea. "You might as well just give me the money right away, then,"

"Why?" Roman tapped his fingers against the table, fighting the amused smirk that threatened to creep up his face. "You're telling me you're not a model?"

I was very happy to have swallowed my tea already— I would've spit it out on the whole pavement, if not. "No, I'm definitely not a model. Just visiting the city," Was he flirting with me? I couldn't quite put my finger on how we had gone from bickering to whatever this was. "So... Roman Godfrey, world's youngest CEO, what brings you to Paris?"

Roman chuckled as he reached for his coffee; "I'm here to roll around in self-loathing at the sight of happy people in love. You?"

I couldn't help but giggle— weirdly enough, I was starting to like this guy. "I have a week before I go back to college, and I have family in Paris. Just taking liberties of free accommodation, I guess,"

"I see," Roman nodded, his green eyes engraving themselves into my mind. "Would you maybe also like to take the liberty of a free drink later tonight, then? I have my own booth at Club Palais down by the Arc if you want to stop by."

Why was I getting so flustered? I wasn't about to show it— I somehow managed to look away from the most charming man I had ever met, hoping my hair would cover the blush creeping up my cheeks. "It seems you have your assigned seats all around town,"

That made him laugh all over; I couldn't help but notice how much I enjoyed the sound of his amusement. "Yeah... But the difference is that you're very welcome to take a seat, this time," Roman finished his coffee, grabbing his newspaper as he got up from his chair. I couldn't help but notice how tall he was— how was he even a real person? He reached into his blazer, pulling out a sleek, beige card. "Here's my number. Feel free to call if you can't make it tonight, or if you ever feel bored during your week here. There are many fun things to do in this city... Especially when you're two."

I accepted the card between my fingers, trying not to think too much about the feeling of his hand against mine. What was that last sentence supposed to mean? I didn't have time to think it over— "Will do,"

Roman nodded, the corners of his mouth curving upwards into a satisfied smirk. "See you, then," 

Just as he was about to leave, another sickeningly sweet couple passed us. Roman gave me a look, imitating the urge to throw up, and I had to clasp a hand over my mouth as the couple turned towards us at the sound of my laugh. 

Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, shaking his head as he let out a hearty chuckle, disappearing into the crowd of people passing the café.

I couldn't help but sigh-- I still hated September. But this vacation seemed to turn into the best time of my life, just as I had predicted it to be.

It was hard to fight Roman’s grip around me, especially since he towered heads above me— I knew it was a lost cause. 

However, I was pissed. Pissed about how he had behaved at tonight's party, and how he had managed to get so drunk that he was grabbing at me at every opportunity. “Rome,” I huffed, putting my hands on his chest to force some space between us after he had managed to get us both into the bathroom.

Roman, drunk off his ass, did his best to keep his balance. He swayed a little, looking down at me with those hungry eyes I knew too well; “What? I can’t touch my girl?”

“Not here!” When I was sure he wouldn’t fall onto the bathroom floor, I quickly ran over to the door to lock it properly. “We’re at Letha’s birthday party, can’t you keep yourself together?” Amid my annoyance, I scanned him; all dressed up in his white shirt, hair gelled back into a classic heartbreaker look. I couldn't deny it all made my heart beat faster.

Hiccuping, Roman blinked twice— he clearly saw no issue with having sex at his cousin’s party. “Why should I?” He stepped towards me, watching me press myself up against the door. “We haven’t been alone all week… Isn’t this just the perfect opportunity?”

I struggled to hold back a shiver. It was tempting, sure, but completely inappropriate. “I’m not having sex with you in a bathroom,” I mumbled, no longer meeting his strikingly green gaze. “Makes me feel cheap.”

“Cheap?” Roman’s arms snaked around me once more, his soft lips pressing a kiss to my temple. “You’re looking at it all wrong.”

I did my best to phase out the strong smell of brandy coming from my boyfriend— I wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of him when he was drunk. “And how am I supposed to look at it, then?”

He hummed against my skin, his fingers tracing circles into the back of my short, red dress. “Think of it more like… I can’t wait another second to be with you,” Roman placed a kiss against my cheek, drawing forth a pink-ish blush. “I want to feel you around me despite where we are, isn't that a nice thought? I would want you even if we were at a fucking trash compound.”

I could only laugh— he probably didn’t catch how big of a turn-off that image actually was, especially in his drunk state. “That sounds unsanitary,”

Roman chuckled, leaving behind a wet mark against my jaw after kissing me there. I closed my eyes, letting my head loll back against the door as I relished in the feeling; I had certainly missed this. 

“I don’t care,” he eventually said, one hand trailing up to twist itself in the nape of my hair. With another tug, evoking a whimper, Roman kissed his way up to my ear, leaving me heaving for air— it reminded me that he could leave me breathless, no matter the situation. 

I had to swallow my pride, realizing that his little scheme was working. “Someone could— hear,” Unexpectedly, my hips bucked forward in the middle of my sentence as Roman pressed a ridiculously soft kiss against my ear. My hands gripped his shirt, panting. “And you’re— you’re drunk!”

Roman hummed, a sinister, low laugh escaping him. “Let…” His hands dropped, fingers dipping past the edge of my dress as he slowly pulled it up along my thighs. I shuddered, bringing his face into my hands as I watched his green eyes sparkle with lust. “Me…” The dress was now at my waist, Roman’s eyes hungrily scouring my underwear. He didn’t spend a lot of time looking (he had always been more of a do-er, anyways) before he leaned forward, pressing a kiss against my lower abdomen. My breath hitched as Roman bunched up my dress, digging his long digits into my waist as he licked a stripe up to my navel, listening to my whimpers as he held me back from squirming. “Fuck…” He came up shortly after, a satisfied smirk on display across his full lips as he pressed me flush against him, connecting us with a passionate, fiery kiss. As he pulled away, I realized how dizzy I was— and I was about to beg him to do it again, until he slowly turned me around to face the door. My eyes were wide as Roman’s last words were whispered against my ear; “… You.”

At this point, I was practically gelatin in his arms. I could only nod, struggling to breathe as Roman kissed down my exposed neck, now grinding the hardness of his cock up against my ass with a relieved sigh. “Is that a yes?” he whispered, gently driving his teeth into my shoulder.

I whimpered— I couldn’t fight it anymore. “Yeah,” 

“Oh, thank God,” Roman’s grip around me tightened, proceeding to press passionate nips and bites up my neck. “I’ve wanted you all night… All fucking night.”

I had to suppress the urge to roll my eyes. “Don’t remind me,”

Roman laughed, his hands taking in the softness of my skin against his rough ones before they traveled further down. “Now, now... Don’t get all sassy on me,” 

My eyes sprung wide open as his hands ghosted over my underwear, and I let out a wanton moan as his fingers brushed over my clit. “Sorry,” I tried, my apology quickly turning into a trail of profanities as he used two fingers to press down against me, rubbing me through my underwear as I leaned my forehead against the door in defeat. “Shit, shit—” 

Roman hummed into my shoulder, clearly happy with the results of his plot. “So, my girl likes to be touched now, hm?”

Fucker— he knew damn well. 

“Does she?” he teased, his tone only fueling the fire in my body. 

I could barely reply; my mind was dulled down by the feeling of Roman’s fingers rubbing tight, firm circles against my clit. 

He smirked, pressing several kisses against my shoulder. “Yes, she does,” 

Oh, Roman and his dirty mouth— I couldn’t take it. “We— We can’t be in here for too long,” I tried, panting into the wood of the door. “People will get, hah—suspicious.”

Thankfully, my boyfriend seemed to agree. “We’ll make it quick, then,” Roman wasted no time, a whine escaping my lips as his hands deserted the aching need between my legs. He hooked his fingers around my underwear, dragging it down and leaving it around my thighs before he reached for his zipper. 

“This is so stupid,” I mumbled, trying to catch my breath in the meantime. “I can’t believe we’re doing this—” My words came to a halt as Roman’s thick cock eased into me, and I let out a choked moan as I tried to support myself against the door. All my morals suddenly flew out the window; this felt too good to fight.

Roman suppressed his sigh of relief against my shoulder, quickly recovering from the wave of pleasure upon entering me. “Come again?” he teased, digging his fingers into my hips as he slowly stroked further into me with each thrust. 

My breath hitched, holding back a cry of rapture as I moved to meet every pump of his cock—I couldn’t believe how much I had missed this. “Rome,” I cried, placing one hand over his. “A-Aah—”

“Shh,” Roman pressed soft kisses against my neck, bucking into me. “Not so loud, baby… Wouldn’t want anyone to hear, would we?”

Crap— I had to force myself to be aware of my surroundings. It suddenly hit me that we were fucking in Letha’s bathroom, and how we definitely didn’t want to be caught in here; no one would ever let me live that down. So I bit down on my bottom lip, letting my lids fall heavy over my eyes as Roman’s cock stroked into me, the angle allowing him to brush against my sweet spot over and over.

It didn’t take long before I started to feel on the brink of delirium—it certainly didn’t help my state when Roman reached around my body, rubbing my clit with the rhythm of his thrusts. I couldn’t help but turn a bit, reaching forward to tug his brown hair, a satisfaction building deep inside of me as I heard him suppress a moan against my shoulder. 

It didn’t take long before Roman’s lips came crashing against mine in a passionate kiss, which soon enough ended up with the both of us panting against one another, chasing our highs. 

“You feel—Fuck, you feel so, so—” Roman let out a grunt as my walls clenched around him, his green eyes rolling back just slightly. 

The sight of that alone nearly sent me over the edge, but it was the sweet kiss he pressed against my temples that did it for me. That, along with the continuous thrusts of Roman’s cock and the firm circles against my clit, made me cry out against the door. 

The physical motions of my orgasm gripped around Roman’s girth, drawing forth a moan as he spilled into me, the warmth of his cum almost instantaneously seeping out of me. 

As our panting filled the room, it dawned on me that I had done the exact opposite of what I had told myself tonight. With that realization, I couldn’t help but break our moment of rapture with a giggle—“We’re so doing this again,” 

Roman smiled as he leaned down, leaving a trail of eager kisses along my shoulder; “We so are,”

I knew Roman would think I was the biggest loser on earth the second those three dreaded words escaped me; "I don't smoke,"

He remained emotionless, shrugging as he retreated the box of cigarettes he had been holding out in front of me. We stood behind the school, our backs leaning against the hard concrete wall as the sun fried the top of our heads. "Freak," he mumbled, rummaging his pockets in search of his lighter. 

Excuse me? "You're a much bigger freak than I am," I felt my jaw clench involuntarily-- my frustration was certainly building. "At least I'm not smoking myself dumb."

Roman cocked a brow as amusement danced in his deep, green eyes; "Yeah?" he said, fishing two cigarettes out of the box. Why two? "And who are you to call me dumb? If anything, we're both dumb. We only know each other because we failed a test and had to retake it."

I hated how right he was. I hated any instance in which he was correct. A few weeks ago, we had gotten acquainted in that small room in building B during a retake of the hardest math test I had ever encountered-- the difference was that I had actually studied for the first one, and Roman had simply not shown up for it. It was only me, Roman, and some random substitute teacher who had been called in to make sure we wouldn't cheat. Thankfully, the teacher was incompetent enough to leave the room to chat with a friend on the phone, which was when Roman leaned over my desk and said we could use the calculator he had smuggled in under his shirt.

I would've failed that test if it hadn't been for him. And now, I was failing to show up to class because he said he didn't want to smoke by himself. I wasn't sure why I had agreed, seeing as I didn't smoke (clearly), but... it was Roman Godfrey. One look from him was enough to make any girl at this school faint, and being seen with him gave me a new status as one of the cool ones. I loved that feeling, reveled in the looks I would get walking down the hallway with him, and I honestly enjoyed it more than I probably should-- 

And ever since the retake, Roman and I had been friends.

Only friends. 

Friends. Just friends. I wanted it to stay that way-- the Godfrey circus was not one I ever wanted to join.

Many things had changed in the weeks we had become acquainted, but one thing would not; I was not going to smoke. "Fine," I eventually muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. "We're both dumb, then."

Roman shifted, turning to me. Reacting, my eyes darted up at him, but I frowned as I was reminded of the amount of cigarettes in his mouth. Again-- why two? "Okay, Roman, that's taking the addiction too far,"

"Nu-uh," he managed to say with his mouth full. He also managed to smile, a knowing look in his eyes as he brought his hand up to his face. Roman left one cigarette between his plush lips, and I didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to realize what he was planning to do with the other one.

I glared up at Roman as he held out the lit cancer-stick for me to take. "No," I prompted, shaking my head.

"Don't be a fucking wuss," he bit back, grinning down at me. 

"I'm not!"

Roman rolled his eyes, kicking off the wall. "Come on, open up,"

I felt my breath catch in my chest as he placed himself in front of me. He was towering over me, practically caging me in-- "No," 

Roman's laugh was warm, yet menacing. "Have a puff, at least,"

"No!"

"What is up with you? Have you never smoked or something?" 

"... Yeah, I haven't. So what?"

The following laugh was just as sinister. "I'll teach you, then,"

"I don't want you to teach me, drop it!--"

What happened next was beyond unexpected. Roman reached forward with his free hand, squeezing my nose shut with a harshness that hurt, which ultimately forced me to breathe through my mouth. Swiftly, he placed the cigarette between my lips, calmly taking a drag of his own before he pulled away.

As I inhaled the smoke, I managed to give him a proper kick before I succumbed to a heavy cough.

Roman only laughed. Over and over. The ridiculously pretty sound of it echoed through my brain as tears filled my eyes-- it felt like I was being choked by fire. Fire and smoke. Where was the fire alarm when I needed it? In my second act of rebellion, I threw my cigarette to the floor, stomping it repeatedly. "Hate you," was all I managed to force out, rubbing the tears out of my eyes.

Roman hummed, looking as amused as ever. He took a long drag from his cigarette, savouring the taste, savouring the smoke, before blowing out a perfect ring. It was clear that he had practiced that numerous times. I watched it evaporate into thin air as I tried to catch my breath, my gaze now darting to the single strand of brown hair that strayed from Roman's stylings, hanging over his eyes in a perfect, soft wave. 

He caught me staring, his green eyes darting back at me with newfound challenge. His voice lowered, his next words coming out in a husky breath; "I'm gonna make you smoke yourself dumb if you don't stay away. Do you know that?" Roman watched my every reaction, my every movement-- "I told you I'm not just friends with girls. That's not how I operate."

I did my best not to shudder, but it was damn near impossible. Sure, Roman was pretty and he had told me this numerous times, but there was no way in hell anything would happen between us. I would never allow myself to fall into that category of girls. "We can be friends," I tried, blinking away my remaining tears.

Roman sighed, tilting his head as he stared at me like I was the dumbest little puppy he had ever seen. "No," he said, effectively sinking his words into stone. They were permanent, a statement to remember. "We're not going to be friends."

"... Why not?"

With a simple shrug, Roman threw his finished cigarette to the ground. "Because people don't usually want to fuck their friends," His strikingly green eyes darted back at me as a smirk formed across his lips. "And I so desperately want to fuck you."

"Ouch," Roman breathed, an airy laugh following.

Hearing him groan like that made me realize what the fuck I was doing-- I had been so blinded by my arousal that I had sunk my teeth into his shoulder. It was certainly a reflex which I didn't know I had, and it was all crashing down on me as Roman pressed a kiss to my temple.

His voice was all raspy today, still a little breathless; "Wanna bite me, baby? Wanna hurt me?"

Everything came crashing down on me-- the way my legs were wrapped around him, how my arms were draped around his body, how desperate I was beneath him.

However, could you blame me?

Since I wasn't too keen on having my first time with my parents on the other side of the wall, and also because we were never at Roman's place, our usual make-out sessions had somehow morphed into... whatever this was. Our efforts at keeping our teenage hormones under wraps had failed miserably.

This, however, was next level from anything we had done before-- we were practically in our underwear (if you don't count the socks) with his hard, clothed cock grinding into the apex of my thighs, my soaked panties, brushing against my clit with every thrust. I really had no idea how we ended up like this, and how this was the third time we had allowed this to happen; all I knew was that it felt amazing.

It felt sweet, innocent-- good.

Good enough to drive me into a frenzy, biting down on his shoulder with no thought in mind other than the pleasure.

So I slowly laid my head back down on the pillow, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Sorry," I mumbled, trying my hardest not to think about how much I wanted him to move again. "Just-- Just forget that."

Roman hummed, pondering whether to let it slide as he glanced at the fresh bite mark on his shoulder. It was tiny compared to the rest of him, and the sight almost made me shiver-- there was something thrilling about marking him. Knowing he was still walking around with two old hickeys on his collarbones, having asked for them, made me further dizzy-- he liked being mine. 

He liked it a lot, actually. He just wouldn't confess to it so openly. 

Which is why I didn't expect him to retaliate in typical Roman fashion; "I might just have to bite you back for that," 

"Don't you dare!"

"I might," he said, eyes darkening as a sinister laugh built in his throat. "Not now, not today... But I might."

And so it begun-- a new scare.

Fuck.

How to smoke – a thorough guide by Roman Godfrey. That was a book I wouldn’t buy in a million years; why give a millionaire more money?

Thankfully, I didn't have to pay anything to get a free trial from the author of said imaginary book.

Roman sat next to me on the porch leading up to the house of the party we were at, having asked me to follow him outside to escape all the noise. I wouldn’t have gone with him, had I not started to get a headache from what I could frankly only call ear-rape. “It’s too fucking loud in there,” I muttered, shifting on the uncomfortable step. “There’s a reason I don’t go to these things very often.”

Roman shrugged, patting down the pockets of his jacket. “It’s not usually this bad when someone else hosts. But I heard this guy is notorious for being legally deaf, so that might explain it,”

“I wouldn’t be shocked if he did that to himself,”

With a laugh, Roman pulled out an orange-hued box of cigarettes, shaking his head. “It’s too bad you don’t attend parties that often. I never see you anymore, y’know? Just bring some earplugs if you’re so bothered by the damn noise,” 

Oh. My heart jumped with a jolt of pain. I cleared my throat; “Of course you don’t see me anymore, Roman… We broke up two months ago,” 

Despite seeing it coming from miles away, it had been the hardest breakup of my life. I knew whom I had gotten into a relationship with, knew exactly what kind of a guy Roman was, so I had been emotionally prepared for it when it all fell apart. The relationship had been more of a whirlwind thing, a lust thing, which had left me with a very bad case of being-walked-in-on PTSD. That one time Roman decided he wanted to go down on me at school, only for my math teacher to walk in on us in the classroom, was a memory I was sure I would never forget. Sadly. 

However, the bliss of being sexually compatible couldn’t carry the relationship forever, and I was aware of that long before he was. Around the time we hit the one-month milestone, I could see in his gorgeous green eyes that he was tired. Roman needed to be free to function, free to fuck any girl that walked by, and free to disappear for hours and come back whenever it pleased him. 

And what did I need? I wasn’t so sure anymore. 

If I were to use my brain and ponder that question once more, I would conclude that I needed to stop sitting next to my hot ex-boyfriend who was now lighting one of his classic cigarettes. Roman knew I didn’t approve, knew how many times I had told him it was cancer on a stick—still, I settled for the fact that he wasn’t scared of death. Actually, he probably wasn’t scared of anything other than real commitment. 

With a sigh, Roman nodded to himself. “I’m aware, but I’m still allowed to miss the sight of you,” He turned to me, his strikingly green gaze piercing mine— I held my breath. This was getting intense. Nonetheless, the next thing that rolled out of his mouth caught me off guard; “Do you have a lighter?” 

… What? “Roman, you know I don’t smoke,”

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk. “Worth a shot. I had hopes that you’d at least managed to become an arsonist in our time apart, maybe then you’d carry a lighter around with you,” Like this, faced with his heartbreakingly beautiful smile beneath the hues of the moonlight, I was reminded of the first thought I ever had when I met him; he was so… cool. Roman always looked so damn cool. I loved the way it made my heart flutter— the feeling of being with the coolest guy at school was still the most thrilling feeling of all. I felt cool, knowing he wanted to sit next to me instead of being inside the loudest party of the year hunting down his next lay. 

It was impossible not to smile back. “Don’t be so disappointed. At least I’m still a cannibal,”

Humored, Roman chuckled; “Glad to hear it,”

“And you’re still a nymphomaniac,”

That seemed to strike a nerve— Roman let out an offended huff, now patting down the pockets of his jeans. “Forget it. I never go anywhere without my lighter, anyway,” he mumbled.

Oh no. “I didn’t mean it as an insult! We were joking, Roman. You’ve never been the type to hide that you like… sex—” 

“Don’t fucking talk to me about sex right now, I’m too tipsy,” Roman’s words were harsh, snappy. He wasn’t looking at me anymore, now fishing out his usual red lighter; I hadn’t seen that one in a while. “No sex-talk. None.”

“Fine, Jesus!—”

“Thanks to you, I now have to smoke away the taste of you. Thank you,” he grumbled, a slight twitch appearing beneath his left eye as he brought the cigarette to his plush lips— oh, how I missed those. “Your perfume isn’t helping, either. So don’t talk about sex, because then I’ll start thinking about sex with you, along with how you taste after I’ve been going down on you for about ten minutes, squirming, whining, and then I start thinking of how much I miss it. So could you just—just shut up for a minute, okay?”

I stared at Roman in disbelief, my lips parting as my jaw threatened to hit the floor. He must’ve had a few beers too many to be talking so openly about… anything. I would go off on him about his use of words, telling me to shut up, but I was too stunned to think properly. With my mind still buzzing, I scooted closer to Roman on the cold steps of the porch, daring to lean my head down on his shoulder like I used to do when we were together. “You’ve only proved my point,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “Nympho.”

I knew him too well— I knew Roman would appreciate casual physical contact. He didn’t have enough of that in his life, anyway. Chuckling, amused, he lit his cigarette, inhaling with a quiet moan— something told me he had been waiting for a hit for some time. And just as I opened my mouth, ready to start my usual smoking-is-bad lecture, Roman cut me to it; “Don’t start talking about cancer now, either,”

“It is a cancer stick,”

“I don’t care,”

“You should!”

“But I don’t,” With a sigh, Roman exhaled, watching the smoke evaporate into the warm summer air. He leaned his head on top of mine, and I couldn’t help but think how the smell of the cigarette clashed with the comforting smell of his shampoo. It ruined everything. 

This conversation was one we’d had tens of times, and I wasn’t too keen on repeating it. “Roman…” I reached for the cigarette he lazily held between his fingers, feeling the softness of his hand against mine. “Maybe you don’t care, but I do. You need to take care of yourself.” I didn’t need to look at Roman to know his brows were drawn together as I took the cigarette out of his hand, holding it away from him. 

He sighed again, slower this time; “If you’d ever smoked, you’d see the appeal,”

“Yeah?” It was hard not to roll my eyes— “The appeal of cancer?”

With a low laugh, Roman turned his head, kissing the top of my head out of habit. Weirdly enough, it felt platonic for the first time ever, yet it didn’t fail to evoke a hard thump in my chest. It felt like I was being electrocuted from the inside, and my eyes sprung open—I was happy he couldn’t see that. “Not cancer, don’t be stupid,” he huffed. “Just use that pretty little brain of yours, I know it’s in there somewhere.”

If only he knew my brain was currently working overtime. “I’ll never see the appeal of inhaling crap that ruins your lungs. If anything, you’re the stupid one,”

Roman rolled his eyes, gently giving my head a nudge with the shoulder I was leaning on, motioning for me to sit up. “Let me show you, just once. If you don’t like it, you’re allowed to call me a nicotine-addicted nymphomaniac until the last day of high school,”

“And the day after. An extension for your favorite ex,”

“Nope. The day of graduation, and that’s it,”

I turned to look at the blindingly pretty smile on Roman’s face— how was it possible not to fall for this guy? He was gorgeous. “Fine,” I mumbled, knowing I would call him that no matter what behind his back until the day he died. “So how the fuck do I do this?”

Something in Roman’s green, green, eyes shifted. Maybe he was wondering why he had ever let me go in the first place— maybe he was thinking about the word to describe the color of my hair as it mixed with the grays of the moonlight? He cleared his throat, turning his body towards me as I mirrored him; “The first step is easy,” he said, reaching forward to place his hand behind mine, bringing the cigarette to my lips. 

My skin burned. Fucking burned, with every touch. 

Roman’s eyes were already big, which is why I was surprised to see they could get even bigger when he gazed down at my lips. “Open up,” he breathed, absentminded. 

Now, I could be sure he wasn’t thinking about the color of my hair. Maybe he was back to reminiscing about the taste of me? Or other nasty nympho things, as per usual.

I placed the cigarette between my lips, but Roman let out a short, alarmed sound that nearly made me yelp. “Now comes the trick,” he urged, leaning closer— I was unsure whether he was aware he was inching towards my face or not. The closer he got, the easier it was to focus on the single strand of his dark hair that lay over his forehead, straying from his stylings. It was so damn attractive— I had to hold myself back from smiling, now that I remembered the one time I caught him pulling it out of his gelled updo to lay it there on purpose. Cutie.

“The trick?” I echoed, realizing he had frozen to his spot just staring at my lips. I pulled the cigarette away from my mouth; Roman hadn’t said anything for about five seconds. This was bad. This was dangerous. It made me want to jump him and let him fuck me right here on the porch. 

“Uh—” Roman cleared his throat, letting out a breathy chuckle as he shook his head. “Sorry. The trick, right…”

God, I was two seconds away from bursting into flames like a phoenix. Was I still breathing?

“For your first time, you should— because this is your first time, right?”

“Yes!”

“You sure?”

“Roman!”

“Alright, alright!” Roman laughed, biting his lip as he tilted his head just a little. Had the cigarette not forced a space between us, I would’ve started wondering when he would kiss me. “The trick is to not inhale too much smoke for your first time. I don’t want you to cough up your left lung on my new shirt. And hold the smoke in your mouth for a moment, let it cool down, and only inhale it when you’ve taken the cig out of your mouth.”

If Roman one day actually did decide to write a smoking-guide, I could at least be sure the content would be explained simply and concisely. “Seems easy enough,” I mumbled, watching Roman’s pupils widen as I placed the cigarette back between my lips and sucked in a small amount of smoke into my mouth.

It felt like I was getting a mild burn on my tongue— it wasn’t pleasant. For a second, I got scared my eyes would pop from the shock, and I closed them to ensure the blood at least wouldn’t splatter anywhere if I happened to be so unlucky. But when the burning subsided, I finally dared to inhale.

My eyes sprung open, meeting the fascination in Roman’s green gaze as my previous headache caused by the loud music disappeared. My brain suddenly felt like it was buzzing with pleasure and energy. Before I knew it, I was half giggling against Roman’s mouth, letting my cigarette-clad hand fall by my side. “Wow,” I breathed, in awe of the satisfying whirring in my head. 

Roman looked like he was two seconds away from cooing at me, right in my face; “There you go, good girl,” he purred. “Do you get it now?”

God, I hated myself. Still, what I hated more, was that my hot ex-boyfriend was blatantly right. “I think I do,” 

Roman hummed, smirking as he reached for the cigarette in my hand, smoothly brushing his fingers across my skin on his way down. With a content sigh, he looked into my dazed eyes as he pressed his free fingers over the pulse of my wrist— “I still make your heart jump,” he breathed, leaning in so close I could feel the hotness of his breath against my cheek.

I swallowed. “You always will. It doesn’t mean anything,” My eyes flickered back and forth between Roman’s green eyes and his plush, pink lips despite knowing I shouldn’t. 

“It doesn’t?” he echoed, visibly amused as he raised his brows. 

“… Nope,”

Roman hummed, nudging the tip of my nose with his just as he always did—was this maybe just a habit, or was he going to…? The atmosphere was so thick, I could reach out and touch it. My breath had long caught in my chest, but Roman’s next words only made it worse; “Let’s talk about sex again,” he whispered against my lips, his lashes hanging heavy over his eyes.

“No. This is over. We’re just sharing a cigarette,”

“We could share a bed too,”

“Stop it,” I breathed, hoping he’d spot the desperation in my eyes. “It’s been two months. Aren’t you over this?” Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.

Roman stilled. With the next beat of my pulse against his fingers, his eyes softened with a new realization beneath the moonlight; 

“Over you? Never,”