The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(102)

“Are you close, pet?” I ask her, allowing my breath to fan over her * before sliding my tongue back against her clit and twirling it over and over, sucking it into my mouth.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice full of desperation as she tries to grab hold of her orgasm. “Oh God, Roman. I’m coming.” The last part of her sentence is drawn out in a long whine of need.

I pull away, leaving my fingers inside of her, but refusing to move them.

“Did I give you permission to come, Ana?”

“What? No!” she cries, her body shaking so much I can watch how it quakes.

“You can’t come until I tell you to, pet.”

“Roman!”

“I’m going to play with you a little longer. If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you come.”

“Yes!” she cries as I pull my fingers out and then thrust them back in. Her body bows, trying to latch on tight enough to give her what she needs. Every movement she makes is poetry. I thought she was beautiful dancing. It was nothing compared to this. And her taste. It’s like nothing I’ve experienced before and far more addicting than any drug. I can’t resist diving back in. I let my tongue move along the heated folds of her *, sliding my tongue inside with my fingers. I repeat that a couple of times, working in tandem to excite her even more, until I finally direct all of my attention back to her clit.

I know I’m pushing her past her limits. I know that she doesn’t have the discipline needed to pass this test. I have no business even bringing her this far into my world without ground rules. I know all this, I just don’t give a f*ck. In my mind, I’m yelling, Don’t come, Ana, even knowing she will. I have fallen under her spell. She’s been so naturally submissive up to this point that I could forget this is new to her. I doubt she even realizes how truly submissive she is.

“Roman, I’m coming,” she gasps, which is really her undoing, because now I push her further.

“Not yet, pet,” I warn her before I suck her clit into my mouth, humming against the nub while pushing my fingers deep inside of her. I pull my fingers apart, stretching her just as my teeth bite into the tender flesh of her clit. The sting of pain throws her over the edge into a climax. I give her just a little more, allowing her to fully go over the edge. Then, it takes every bit of willpower I have to take my mouth and hand away, ensuring that her orgasm, though complete, never truly takes her where it could. It just leaves her needing more.

“Roman?” she asks, confused. Her violet eyes are smoky as she slowly opens them.

“I told you not to come,” I tell her.

Shock fills her face. She shuffles to sit on the table. I use my hands on her hips to help brace her. “I… you… can’t…”

“Now you have to be punished, Ana.”

“Punished?” she squeaks.

“It’s your first offense, so I’ll go easy on you.”

“Easy on me?” she parrots.

My thumb moves along her bottom lip, following the curve. I push against it, letting just the tip of my thumb push into her mouth.

“I’m going to f*ck this pretty little face.”

She doesn’t respond, but I don’t miss the way she squirms at my words.

She might be the most perfect partner I’ve ever played with.





I jerk awake with a start. I’m surprised I slept at all. I haven’t been able to get more than a few hours a night since Allen started getting into trouble. Roman is sleeping beside me, his hand strung across my stomach. The temptation to stay is strong. The heat of his body lures me in, and there’s so much more I want to experience. For all that we’ve done, I’ve not had him inside of me yet, and I ache for that. Hunger for it. I’ve had a few relationships and I’ve always known that I like for a man to take control, but none have been as dominate and demanding as Roman was. I even have the feeling that he was holding back. I would love to explore more with him. That would be bad. For several reasons.

I want to stretch against him and relax back into his warmth. I can’t. I can’t stay here. I need to meet with Paul and I need to see if he’s managed to get any more leads on Allen. I can’t help but stare at Roman for a minute. Asleep, he looks different. Still devastatingly handsome and breathtaking, but his face is softer, relaxed … even peaceful. I’ve spent the last couple of days kicking myself for being attracted to Roman. It goes against everything I stand for. I know what kind of man he is. I know the things he does. All of that should make me run in the opposite direction. Yet, here I am in bed with him, breaking every rule I’ve put in place, and not even able to drum up enough guilt to care. In fact, if he was to wake up right now, I’d give myself to him again.

I should have never crossed that line. Now I’m afraid I’ll never be able to go back.

I try to slide out of the bed, but Roman’s hand stops me, pulling me back into him. At first I’m afraid I’ve woken him, but he mumbles and shifts in his sleep. I hold myself as still as humanly possible, but doing so causes me to breathe in his scent, and this tiny frisson of need blooms in my stomach and moves through my body. Good Lord, he’s more addicting than any drug on the market. Once he settles down, I try once again to slide away. He protests at first, his fingers pressing into my side. No one has ever tried to hold on to me, in bed or out, and the fact that Roman is, really messes with my head.