The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(137)

“Roman, I…”

“If you come, that would be bad. You didn’t want to wear the dress I chose? If you come without permission, I won’t care that everyone in here will see you. I’ll strip you naked, bend you over this chair and f*ck you until you tell everyone who you belong to.” His words make my body shake and my orgasm build. My eyes close and I can picture him doing exactly that. Exactly.

Oh, God.





Ana trembles in my arms. I was pissed at her for defying me, but I have to admit, I love when she shows fire. Fuck, I love teaching her lessons, and this one might be the most enjoyable yet. Three fingers sink into that tight *. She’s so f*cking tight that even though she’s drenched, it’s hard to stretch her enough to get them inside of her. The scent of her arousal blooms around us as my thumb makes tiny circles against her throbbing clit. I push into it, holding it. It pulsates against my thumb the same way her walls are massaging against my fingers. It’d take so little to set her off. It makes me think my little Ana is an exhibitionist at heart.

“My pet is so greedy for my fingers. Does it turn you on, knowing I’m f*cking you with a hundred people watching us? They’re all wondering exactly what I’m doing to you, Ana.”

“Jesus, Roman,” she whispers, her hands biting into my shoulders as she tries to brace herself to keep from falling.

“Maybe we should show them. Would you like that, pet? Do you want me to get on my knees and eat out your juicy little cunt while they’re all standing back there? Every man in here wants to be able to do that right now. They want between your legs. They want to bury their head so deep into your * and eat out this little cunt until your juice runs down their face and they drown in it while you ride them.”

“Oh, f*ck. Roman… I need…”

“I know what you need. You need me to…”

“Come. Oh, God. Baby, I need to come,” she whimpers, her voice hoarse and raw. Her nails are biting into my skin. I can feel the muscles of her legs clench as her * presses down on my hand, trying to suck it further in and ride the hell out of it. She’s already thrusting in rhythm with my hand, forgetting she has an audience. I spin her around, pinning her up against the wall, my body shielding her. I slow down my strokes, now. Letting my fingers glide in and out of her soaked little cunt, but going slow and methodical. It’s not easy. That f*cking * of hers is so hungry it clings to my fingers, grinding down on me every time they push into her.

“Roman, please stop torturing me,” she whimpers.

In response, I bite into the side of her neck, giving her a sting of pain. I can feel her * quivering against my hand as even more moisture floods onto my fingers. I know that in one more thrust, one more bite, she’s mine. She’ll come so hard, she’ll scream my name, not caring who can hear her. I’m a bastard enough to want that and I’d give it to her.

One thing holds me back. She disobeyed me. With that in mind, I stop completely. I pull my hand out from her warm depths with regret. I step back so she can watch me as I suck her sweet juice from my fingers. Fuck. Nothing in the world tastes like my Ana.

“Roman?” Her voice is confused and full of need.

I button her pants, leaning in at her ear so that only she can hear me. Fuckers are already trying to get closer to us, to get in on the show. “You don’t get to come, pet. Maybe after we get home and you suck my cock and beg, maybe then. But if you want to defy me when I ask you for something, then that means you still need to learn who is in charge of your body.” I pull away at her gasp, my hand going to her back to steer her back toward the crowd. She walks a step or two but resists me after a minute.

“But, Roman…”

“And Ana, if you even think of going to the restroom and making that sweet little * come, you won’t sit still for a f*cking week. Are we clear?”

Her eyes go round, her hand coming up to rub nervously against her throat. She nods her head once, watching me the entire time.

We’re clear.





With every mile that brings us closer to downtown Miami, my heart hurts. The ride has been quiet, each of us in our own thoughts. We came home from the party last night and I thought everything was great. Roman pushed me up against the wall and buried his face between my legs, making me come twice before making slow love to me on the floor in front of the fireplace. We’ve made love a lot of ways, but none have been as sweet and slow as last night’s had been.

I came so close to telling him I loved him. What would his reaction have been? The unknown of how he would react when he found out all my secrets was the only thing that held me back.

I was on the verge of my confession when we got the call. Someone had killed Big Joe. His body was thrown out in front of Roman’s expensive club. His men called him the moment the body was discovered. I’m still in shock. I loved Big Joe. He was a mountain of a man with a soft side that he showed the women he protected. Roman held me while I cried, but since the call, I’ve seen the change in him. He’s a man bent on revenge now. Completely business and cold in his demeanor. I understand it, even though I wish he could come back to me and be the man who made me feel alive last night.

“Did Joe have family?” I wonder aloud, not really asking Roman. I suppose I’m not even fully aware that I asked the question out loud. I just keep thinking what a shame it is that this world is robbed of such a good person.