Chapter 5

By the timeRoman returns to our room with the food, I already have several of my boxes unpacked. And, thankfully, it wasn’t difficult finding room for my stuff. Once I shoved his shit aside, mine fit perfectly. It just took some rearranging.

I don’t have tons of stuff, anyway. Everything I have I managed to shove into a small dorm room that I shared with Emily.

And while I was going through everything, I found the necklace Roman gave me. I slip it over my head, smoothing my thumb over the seal. The weight around my neck reminds me just how subjugated a consort is, and I shudder at the thought of wearing a symbol of the fucking patriarchy. But whatever. If I’m going to get information, then I need to play them at their own twisted game, and that means playing by their twisted rules.

When Roman walks in, a food bag in his hands, his mouth falls open. “What the…?” He looks around, his expression growing increasingly horrified. “You moved all my stuff!”

“Yeah.” I take the food out of his hands, then hand him a box, filled with random shit. “Put this in your car. It needs to be donated.” I place my hands on my hips and glance around the room. “I’ll probably have a few more boxes to add later.”

He looks down into the open box. “You’re donating my old surfing trophies?”

I make a face. “They were on the floor. And they were dusty.” I pull one out of the box. “This one is broken, for God’s sake.”

I can tell he’s annoyed, but what can he really say? He moved me into his house without my knowledge or permission.

“I’ll put them in the garage,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Great,” I say, lifting a finger. “Also, I’m going to need a maid in here at least once a week. You guys are gross.”

He lets the box fall to the floor, a true indication of just how valuable he really thinks those items are. “What the fuck happened? When I left this room a half hour ago, you were so grief-stricken, that you could barely move. And now you’re cleaning my room?”

“Wyn came up to see me, and she made a few really good points,” I say, pulling all the useless shit off his beautiful built-in bookshelves. He has random trinkets scattered across the polished walnut; everything from a tube of toothpaste to random Exeter University swag. Do we really need a bright blue stress ball with the university’s seal printed on it?

I toss the ball into an empty box, then take the toothpaste into the bathroom, and shove it in a drawer. Roman follows me, clearly unnerved by me messing with his things.

“And what points were those?” he asks, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“That I’m not helping Bree by lying in bed, doing nothing.”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You were grieving. Lying in bed doing nothing is understandable.”

I shrug. “She encouraged me to embrace my life here, to find a new purpose. So that’s what I’m trying to do.”

I just don’t tell him that my new purpose is to find Bree’s killer, but of course, he zeros in on that statement.

“And what new purpose might that be?” He’s still suspicious of my sudden turnaround, I can see it in his eyes.

I walk up to him, and dip my hands beneath the hem of his shirt, smoothing my fingertips over the ripples of his abs. He unfolds his arms and sucks in a sharp breath.

“She said I should give us a shot. For real. No half measures. No more fighting it.”

Damn, I’m really putting words in Wyn’s mouth now, but it’s essentially what she was saying.

The suspicion melts from his face, and it’s replaced by… relief. “I never knew Wyn was so wise.”

My hands explore further, moving to his pecks as I stand on my tippy-toes, placing my mouth half an inch from his. “She’s full of great ideas.”

Use what you’ve got to get what you want.

His mouth quirks with amusement. “So I’m your new purpose?”

I laugh a little. Guys are so easily distracted. Just the mention of me making him my entire focus has him so pleased, that he’s completely forgotten about his earlier suspicions.

“Yesss,” I say, finding the waistband of his jeans. I fumble with the button, yanking it free, and then slowly, I pull down his zipper. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Nope,” he says quickly as I pull the waistband of his underwear down, freeing his swollen cock.

I have to admit, Wyn giving me permission to focus on something other than my sadness is a relief. Setting my grief aside probably isn’t the best idea, and I’m sure Dr. Cunningham would have something to say about it, but at this point, I’m just trying to survive the trauma of losing Bree, and shoving my pain into some deep, dark corner of my soul feels like the perfect remedy. For now, at least.

When I find Bree’s killer, then I’ll grieve. Until that point, though, I’m fully prepared to destroy anything, and anyone who gets in my way, even if that means digging deep down, and becoming a bolder version of myself.

Whatever the cost, I’m willing to pay it for Bree.

Sinking down onto my knees on the cushy bathmat, I wrap my mouth around Roman’s shaft, taking him as deep as I can. A groan emerges from somewhere deep in his chest as his hand threads through my hair and cups the back of my head.

“My God, Lux.” His words come out rough and strangled like he’s already on the brink of losing it. “You feel so damn good.”

With one hand gripped on his thigh to anchor myself, I wrap the other around the base of his shaft, using it to stroke his cock in time with my mouth, pausing to suck on the salty tip, before pushing back down again.

“So good,” he says on a groan. “God, I need to be inside you, Lux.”

My core floods with heat as I taste him, and my clit starts to pulse in time with my strokes. I moan around his cock as I continue to suck, but just a few seconds later, I feel his cock harden even more between my lips.

With a growl, he pulls me up off my knees, and roughly pulls my sweats and panties off, tossing them aside. Then he grabs my ass cheeks and lifts me onto the bathroom counter. He pushes into me at the same moment his mouth covers mine. We’re locked together, his tongue thrusting in time with his cock, wet and frantic. He fills my channel, stretching me, forcing me to accommodate his thick shaft. I cry out, but he swallows the sound, taking me with a crazed desperation I’ve never experienced before.

Again, and again, he slams into me, his cock hitting the sensitive spot inside my channel, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through my entire body.

He rips his mouth away from mine. “Lux,” he says roughly, his breath coming hard and fast. “How do you do this to me?”

I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, too focused on my own mounting pleasure to answer his question.

I’m so wet, there’s little to no friction, and when he pulls back, his cock almost slides out entirely.

“Why can’t I get enough of you?” he rasps, each thrust harder, more violent. My body jolts as he slams into me, his pelvis crushing my clit with every measured blow.

It’s violent and messy, and I’ve never felt so alive.

I can feel my body opening up to him even more somehow, spreading, welcoming his violent invasion.

We both come at the same time—with one last, violent stroke, he buries himself inside me, impossibly deep, pumping his seed into my channel as he sinks his teeth into the curve of my neck. The sharp pain pushes me over the edge, and I scream his name as my climax crashes into me with such force that I hold my breath, a slave to the white-hot pleasure that’s rushing through me.

When it’s over, he’s holding me, his head buried in the crook of my neck, his chest heaving. He lifts his head, and nibbles on my ear. “I can’t get enough of you, Lux. Tell me what you’ve done to me.”

I twist my head and laugh, but when he pulls back to look at me, I see tears in his eyes…