Roman: Book 1 (10 page)

I grip the back of her knees and wrench her thighs apart before shoving my hips between them, pushing my growing erection against her core. I rub both hands roughly up her body, squeezing hard enough to bruise the flesh of her hips and ass. I bend my body over hers and sink my teeth into her satin covered breast sucking it through the material. Her back arches off the table and she moans as my hands slide from her ass to the curve of her hips and up the skin covering her ribs until my hands are cupping her heavy breasts for a brief moment before shoving the material of her gown over her head.

As the dress whispers to the floor, I lean back and allow myself a moment to feast on the supple taut skin covering her neck, breasts, and flat abdomen.  My eyes settle on her bare pussy and a sinister smirk replaces the scowl on my face.  I run my eyes back up her body until they meet hers and I demand to know, “How long, mouse? How long have you wanted this? Needed me? How long?”

Her husky words have more blood rushing to my aching cock. “From the first moment I saw you. From the very beginning Roman.”

I brush my hands across the pale flesh of her abdomen to roughly squeeze her breasts and pinch her
hardened
nipples. I bite down on the inside of my cheeks to hold back a groan. “From the beginning?” I ask in a guttural voice maintaining eye contact with her.

“From the beginning.” She moans.

As my right hand finds her carotid artery on either side of her neck and squeezes I shove my other hand between her legs and brutally rub the wet flesh back and forth. Her hips undulate as I slide my finger knuckle deep and curl it around to find the spot I manipulate so well.

“Oh God, Roman.” She moans.

“And this pussy? Tell me how long this tight little pussy wanted me, Heather.” I slide my finger out before slipping a second one in so deep my fingertip is met with a resistance I very rarely feel and I still my ministrations before leaning over her writhing body to put us face to face. With one hand around her throat the other starts finger fucking her again as I growl the words, “This tight little pussy is mine isn’t it, mouse? You saved yourself for me. You want to bless me by covering my cock in the blood of your pureness?”

“Please, Roman.” Her eyes stare into mine while my fingers delve deeper into her pussy and my thumb circles her clit faster.

“You want to be my little slut, Heather? Mine and mine alone, don’t you?” My fingers tighten around her throat and I jerk her head back and forth in a nod causing her to whimper.

“It’s always been you, Roman. Every part of me has always been yours—”

Before she’s able to finish speaking the weight of my belt sends my unbuttoned slacks to the floor with a thud and I slam my cock to the hilt inside the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. The demon inside me roars in long awaited victory as her scream pierces the air. My head falls back as I ram into her over and over; a guttural grunt is released from my throat with every thrust.

I feel my balls tighten as her wetness runs down my thighs and reach my hand between us to rub my fingers over her clit, slipping over her wet cunt. A growl rumbles from deep within my chest as I fill her full of my thick
,
hot cum while running my hands up her body to circle her neck and tighten my hold, using it as leverage to drive my cock harder and faster into her ho
,
t tight cunt. The euphoria I feel running through me causes a smile to spread across my face as the last spurts of my cum empty inside her. I gather my thoughts as I stare up at the ceiling and pull a few deep breaths into my lungs before sliding my gaze down to her splayed, limp body lying across the dining room table. The sight alone of her alabaster skin covered in blood cracks something inside me. My eyes linger to watch in disturbed fascination as Heather’s blood drips from her neck.  When my gaze lowers
,
it traces the bloody path made by my hands sliding up her body from her cunt to her neck.

Something shifts inside me when I look down to where we’re still connected and see my bloody cock remains balls deep inside her blood weeping cunt.

It’s within this pivotal moment I realize, unlike the other women, the sight of Heather’s skin smeared and sullied in blood abrades against my nerves as I feel a sense of dread settle in the pit of my stomach for the first time in my life.

I am not expecting what I see as I stride into the dining room.

My eyes land on a bloody, sobbing Mac strewn across the dining hall table and process the sight but when my mind registers what I’m staring at, my knees almost buckle beneath my weight. Rage. I feel rage surge within me at the sight of Roman standing over her with blood covering his hands as more blood runs down the front of his thighs from where his cock is still buried inside her.

I barely cover my mouth in time to muffle the sound of my gags before spinning around, fleeing from the images seared into my brain. I slam though the double front doors and stumble down the
cobble
stone steps landing on my hands and knees in the grass before losing the contents of my stomach. I don’t know how long I retch and gag
,
but once I’m able to breathe again, I roll onto my back and stare at the starless, cloudy night sky while tears seep into my hair behind my ears. I pray, although I already know, what I just saw was not the end result of Mac losing her virginity.

Heather is different from the other twelve. She does not deserve to be met with the same fate they did at his hands. I’ll kill him if
he
snuffs out her life and I will make damn sure it is slow and painful.

I lie in the grass and continue staring at the cloudy sky and I pray for her.  I pray she is delivered from Roman’s evil affliction. I pray until the house settles and goes dark.

Pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt stabs through me from between my legs to my battered womb as Roman’s hot cum bathes my insides mimicking salt being ground into a fresh wound.

Tears slip from my eyes and slide down the sides of my face to run along my scalp as sobs are wrenched from my throat while Roman simply stares down at my battered and bloody abused body.

Why did I let myself think even for a moment this man wasn’t the monster everyone says he is? And what gave me the idea I was different…that I was the one who could save him?

Roman will break me.

He will let me down.

He will make me hurt.

Roman will make me bleed, over and over until I am no longer able to keep him amused or entertained.

Looking up at him through my tear blurred vision as his flaccid cock slips from me I watch as concern flashes across his facial features.

However it’s the look of disbelief that cripples any hatred I felt for him only moments ago when I see how starkly it contrasts against his beautiful evilness.

“It wasn’t… the wetness, you weren’t soaking me in your cum, it was your blood. “ His crystalline blue eyes clash with mine, “I couldn’t feel the difference between the slick wetness of cum and tacky stickiness of blood.”

My hands run over his arms and shoulders, brushing over the tattoo ink staining his skin and nervously whisper, “Roman, can you and I have a conversation. Please?”

He nods before handing me a linen napkin. After I’ve somewhat cleaned myself up I slip my dress over my head and remain sitting on top of the table, afraid of the pain moving may cause.

I admire Roman’s magnificent naked form as he moves with the lithe grace of a big cat to the opposite end of the long dark dining table. I can’t take my eyes off his olive complected skin moving like satin over his sinewy muscles if I wanted to. By the time he takes his place at the head of the table I’m almost mesmerized. Still perched on my spot, I silently wait for his cue for me to begin. Anxiety is coursing through my veins making my body tremble and confusion trips my thoughts, jumbling them all together making it impossible to discern if I’m terrified or fascinated by Roman. Before I’m able to study that thought too closely I realize he’s watching me over his steepled fingers and waiting for me to begin.

My heart practically leaps from my chest when his stern voice barks, “Begin!”

I flinch and have to swallow three times before I can speak.

“My name is Heather Mackenzie. My friends and family call me Mac. I… I-I I’m a detective for the Washington State police.  My father was Heath Mackenzie, the detective assigned to build a case against you for your involvement with eleven missing women. My father spent the last months of his life investigating you, Roman.  He was convinced you were directly responsible for not only Ms. Robbins death but eleven other young woman as far back as the disappearance of Brittany Sloan. My father died of a heart attack eight months after Ms. Robbins suicide and was never able to find any more evidence against you besides Amanda’s suicide note and eleven pictures he received of you with each of the eleven women around the time they went missing. After his death two years ago I stepped in and took over his investigation. And now, I guess I’m just lucky number thirteen.”

After I’ve finished speaking that I notice Andrew must have come in and served our dinner while my eyes were glued to Roman’s and my mind was lost in my past.

Roman wipes his mouth with his linen napkin then looks down the expanse of the table to where I sit and chuckles.

“Ahh Little mouse, I will enjoy demonstrating just how lucky the number thirteen truly is.”

I feel a blush creep up my face and instantly look down to my fidgeting hands before asking in a shaky voice, “So… the twelve? How many did you directly kill Roman?”

“You are as captivating, little mouse as you are beautiful. I can’t help but continue being intrigued by you. As for the ‘twelve’, they are no longer your concern as you will not be resuming your former occupation.  Count yourself among the fortunate, Heather because for the first time ever, I find myself conflicted. You have piqued my interest and I can’t determine if it’s you, your pureness, or some other thing I have yet to identify. I want to keep you, my little mouse. You possess something the other women lacked; however I have concerns I may find myself swept away in the moment and in the end you’ll meet the same fate as the others “

I attempt to gain information, treading very carefully as I am acutely aware of Roman’s volatility, “The others,” I hesitate, “What happened to them, was it their fault for not keeping your attention, or was their fate caused by your decision to end it?”

He shoots to his feet as he grabs his plate hurtling it directly towards my head. I jerk just enough to the right sending it to shatter against the wall behind me.

His voice thunders, “The “twelve”
DO NOT
concern you, goddamn it!” He stalks over to where I remain trembling on the table and towers over me, putting his face close enough to growl the words into my ear, “Ask about them one more time Heather!  One more fucking time and this…this little experiment ends. Is that what you want? Do you want your life to end by my hands, under my control and at your fault?”

I adamantly shake my head and whimper, “No.”

“Then don’t fuck up.” The calmness in his voice is more intimidating than his shouting.

Without speaking another word he spins towards the door with an air of royalty and strides from the room still completely undressed and smeared in blood.