Wow... I knew Roman's living quarters would be stunning, but this... This is something else.

His living room is the size of my entire apartment. The view from his windows is to die for. The lights of the buildings surrounding Central Park twinkle in the night sky. I hadn't realized how high we were when we took the elevator. We must be on the thirtieth floor or something.

The living room reeks of masculinity with dark blue walls and a brown leather seating group facing a giant TV. Black cushions, a bulky coffee table and a book shelf filled with trophies and crystal prizes add a vintage touch to the space. This feels like Roman's Roman Empire. And he is the one, true king.

Roman stops when we reach an antique liquor cabinet by the balcony's door. Yeah, he has a balcony, large enough for two to stand side by side and feel like they own the city.

I turn my gaze back at Roman as he kneels down and starts rummaging through the cabinet.

"Scotch?" he asks, setting two glasses on the wooden floor.

Seeing him on his knees sends jolts of electricity to my core. My chest rises. The bust of my red dress squeezes my breasts, making it harder for me to breathe.

"Abby?" Roman snaps me a gaze.

Right... What was the question? "Uh-huh."

The sound of liquor pouring fills the silence. The smokey smell of alcohol makes Roman smile, and I mirror his sweet grin.

"Ice?" he asks, opening a tiny freezer at the bottom of the cabinet, and tosses a handful into his own glass. Then he dips a hand into the freezer again. "Abby?"

I shut my gaping mouth and take a step closer to him. Roman's gaze falls on my high heels, then slowly trails my ankles, my knees, and my thighs. The slit of the dress must be giving him a front row seat to my thong.

Roman swallows hard. Then he swallows again when he meets my gaze.

His caramel eyes flicker with that wild, amber glow. The ice cube he's holding is forgotten, and melting in his palm, dripping to the floor. I'm dripping too. My underwear is soaking. And my heart just dropped between my legs.

Keeping his eyes locked with mine, Roman stands on his knees and touches my ankle with the corner of the ice cube. The sharp coldness makes me whimper. My pulse is racing, ticking under my skin. Roman slowly glides the ice up my calf. And when he reaches my inner thigh, he closes his eyes.

Is he praying?

His lips are moving, but all I can hear is his heavy breathing—feels warms against my thighs. I am not sure how I'm still standing in front of him. My skin is burning with the icy touch. My legs part on their on accord to give him access. Even though Roman's eyes are still closed, he doesn't miss the cue and drags the ice up to where everything burns.

A heavy gasp escapes my lips.

Roman starts rolling the ice on my thong, grazing it against my flesh every now and then. Back and forth. Back, then forth. The thin fabric and the pressure is teasing me, making me lose my mind.

"Roman," I whisper, and he opens his eyes.

His caramel gaze is molten. He licks his lips, then parts them, throwing the ice into his mouth. I'm about to come just by watching his cheeks go hollow as he sucks it.

Roman crushes the ice between his teeth and lifts my skirt. My thong comes down with one swift movement. Then he pushes my ankle to part my legs wider. I breathe out, holding onto his shoulders to find my balance. But I'm about to scream...

Looking into my eyes, Roman brings his lips closer to my thighs. I'm bare and defenseless in front of him.

Yet, I never felt so powerful.

His icy fingers dig into my hips, and pull me to his face. When his lips finally meet my core, I throw my head up and gasp for breath.

His tongue quickly slips between my folds. He is hungry, but full of self control. The movements of his tongue as it glides back and forth are slow and steady. And it's cold. So fucking cold.

I can't take my eyes off of his head between my legs. My fingers dip into his hair, and the softness of it makes me moan. The hard flicks of his tongue between my folds is carrying me to the gates of hell. And when he stops to push a finger in, I'm ready to see the flames.

"Roman..." I start whimpering. "Rome—"

He pulls his face away and pushes in a second finger. I'm on the verge of losing it. He keeps pumping, in an out, keeping his eyes locked with mine.

I wrap a leg around his neck, take a deep breath and let go.

Roman's fingers keep moving as he blows against my molten core. I'm exploding around him, desperate for a deeper friction, screaming.

"Fuck... Rome... This— Love of... God!"

Roman grins, letting out a chesty groan, then thrusts his fingers as deep as he can. His lips close around my center once again.

I'm on my toes, and my leg around his head is shaking so much. I don't know how I'm still standing in that awkward position—must be Roman's arms. He is gripping my hips, making sure I'm in position in front of him. I'm still moaning, riding the last waves of my orgasm.

Roman licks everything, and gives me a moment before putting my leg down. Then he grabs my hips, and pulls himself up to stand. His warm breath smells like me and something burnt.

I'm still defenseless. Shaken. Even though he's devoured me, Roman seems hungrier. Wilder. He roughly turns me around and unzips the back of my dress. Tugging it forcefully, he pulls it down and piles the bust around my waist. My breasts are sore, but they are free. My nipples harden with the promise of his touch.

Roman doesn't make me wait. He turns me around and gropes one of my swollen breasts. Then he lowers his head and closes his mouth around my nipple.

He is not hungry. He's starving! His teeth graze against my sensitive skin as he sucks and licks my breast. It hurts. But it'd hurt more if I leave him hanging. So, I arch my back to feed him more.

Roman licks my nipple one last time, then moves on to leave a wet trail on the curve of my neck. Driving his hand into my hair, he keeps my head still so he can eat my face as he pleases.

His leg pushes mine to take a step backward. We waltz another step, and then another, until my bare hips touch the dining table. Then with another grunt, Roman lifts me and sits me on the marble surface.

He quickly reaches for his back pocket and takes out his wallet while I toss my dress away. His hands are trembling. His heavy breathing heats my wet lips. He takes out a roll of foils and tries to tear them.

"Give me," I whisper, ripping one from the pile.

Roman hurries to unbuckle his belt. He is growling with every little move of his shaky fingers. Burning. Desperate. The glow in his eyes echo in my soul. He needs me. He needs to feel me. Now.

The sharp sound of his zipper joins the rustling of his clothes. And with a quick move, he lowers his pants and boxers. I only see the tip of his cock towering behind his white shirt as he quickly slips the condom on, wraps an arm around my waist, and pulls me to the edge of the table.

I'm panting. My core is pulsing again, crazily, to the rhythm of my racing heart. Roman grabs my hip and adjusts himself at my entrance, then pushes in. My breath hitches. He fills me perfectly. It's the perfect cock.

I tighten my legs around him and hold onto the edge of the table as he starts moving his hips.

"You are perfect," he breathes out, holding me tighter. "Fucking... perfect."

I grasp his shoulders when he quickens. My hips are barely touching the table. His shirt crunches against my hardened nipples as we move up and down.

"Abby... My... Abby," he groans, biting my lips. I moan into his mouth. He bites my chin, then my cheek, and my earlobe. "Take me, baby."

I know he doesn't mean his cock, because I'm taking it to the hilt with every thrust. "Rome... Roman..." It's been a few minutes since I came but I'm melting into him, and he is breaking into something inside me—a barrier that I wasn't even aware of its existence.

All I can do is grab a fistful of his hair and take him into the depths of my being more and more with every thrust. The table's feet start scraping the floor with our impact. We are climbing high and fast.

"My," he groans. "My Abby."

"Harder," I beg, and drive him crazier. I want to remember the moment I became his forever.

We are a tangled mess. I'm clenched onto his shoulders for dear life. My legs are shaking, swinging on his hips. Our chests are banging. Our voices are one. "Roman... Abby... I'm close... I'm close too, baby..."

I throw my head up when my orgasm hits me. "Roman! My Roman!"

He thunders and holds me tighter. His legs are trembling. His chesty grunts urge me to come harder. His neck is tensed, lips are parted. I know he is coming, too, and it's magical.

"Abby," he whispers when his head finally falls onto my shoulder.

Our holds loosen. My fingers run in his hair. We stay as one for a brief moment before Roman pulls out and peels off the condom.

My eyes are tightly shut. I only hear the subtle rustlings as Roman's body heat disappears for a brief moment.

Tugging of pants.

Sharp sound of a zipper pulling up.

Ice clicking in a glass.

Roman's light footsteps sweep the floor as he stands between my legs once again.

I let out another breath and grab his shoulder. My head is spinning. His oaky smell has delicious burnt tones underneath. This moment feels surreal. I part my eyes to catch Roman's intense caramel gaze traveling across my face. He lifts his glass and takes a swig from his Scotch, letting out a satisfied growl as he swallows.

"Want some?" he asks roughly.

"Mhm..." I can't even speak... I shake my head, and Roman finishes his drink.

"Go to bed," he whispers, tucking some hair behind my ear. "Last door down the corridor. I'll be right there."

I peck his lips before attempting to stand, but my ass is stuck on the surface and my legs are numb—I stumble forward in pain. Roman grabs both of my elbows while I try to find my balance on my high heels.

"Need help?" he asks, eyeing my shoes. When I shake my head he adds, "Straight to bed."

"Are you going to—"

"I need to send a couple of emails," he says, all business. "Go, baby. I'll be right there."

I know, I just came—twice. And I'm drained. But the way his deep tone vibrates when he calls me baby, sets a bunch of fireworks in my core. I bring his hand up to my lips, and lick his fingertips.

My orgasm tastes sweet on his skin.

"Don't be too long," I whisper looking into his darkened eyes, then set off to find his bedroom.