Chapter 23

I consider goingto Skye's place to chill before having to show up at the Rush House, but I decide against it. I really should rip the proverbial bandage off, and face Roman. The hard part will be pretending like I don't know anything, like everything is normal. I've never been a great actress, so this will really stretch my skills.

When I get back to the house, it's mostly empty. A few members are milling around—and they eye me suspiciously as I enter—but none of Sacred Sons are here. I release the breath I'd been holding, and decide to use the opportunity to explore the house. I've only really seen the common areas, and Roman's bedroom.

The house is huge, and most of the rooms are innocuous; just rooms filled with paintings and precious antiques. You know, your usual rich boy shit.

I wander into the study. I've glimpsed this room before when I was led in for the tribunal, but I didn't get a good look around. This room is filled with books, from floor to ceiling. There's also a desk on the far side of the room that catches my interest.

I walk over to the desk, and discreetly pull one of the drawers open. There's a fancy pen, and blank Burning Crown letterhead…

"Exploring?"

A deep baritone jolts me, and I slam the drawer shut, whipping around to see Roman leaning against the doorframe.

"No one was home," I say, then curse myself for saying it. I'm admitting that without anyone home, I felt free to snoop. Ugh. Idiot. I should have just said I was looking for him or something, but my brain doesn't work that fast. When confronted with conflict, I often spit out the first thing that comes to mind. It's a problem.

He steps into the room, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Only members are allowed in this room unless you're chaperoned."

I swallow. "Then you probably should have locked the door." I mean, seriously, how was I supposed to know?

He glances down and shakes his head, like dealing with me is too much. "There's no need to lock it. Most people know not to go snooping around in other people's houses."

Is he being serious right now?

Any shame I had about snooping around in his house vanishes completely, because, what, am I supposed to just magically know this room is off-limits? I glare at him. "Yeah, well, most people know not to steal other people's shit and force them to live with them. But, hey, we're all learning, right?"

His eyes narrow. "It's safer for you here."

Bree"s words in that letter instantly come rushing back to me. I've discovered something about the Sacred Sons, and it's bad.

Is Roman a spider, luring me into his web with promises of safety?

I clear my throat. "What do you mean by that?"

He takes a step toward me. "Have you already forgotten about Tyler? Plus, the Debs aren't happy about our relationship…"

I hold up a hand. "Okay, first, this isn't a relationship. Second, whose fault is that? You've basically forced me into this thing with you."

He continues advancing, until he's less than an arm's length away from me. "I've forced you into this?" His gaze rakes over my face, lingering on my lips, and I swallow. "Is that what you tell yourself?"

My heart rate kicks up several notches when he presses me against the wall, one hand above my head. He knows I don't like being trapped, and maybe that's why he leaves one arm at his side, instead of completely enclosing the space around me. I don't know, but it's still enough to make me start to panic.

"Breathe." He dips his head, his warm breath brushing across my lips. "I'm not going to hurt you." His mouth lifts into a mischievous half-smile. "Not until you beg for it, anyway."

"That's not going to happen," I say, my voice shaking. I resist the urge to push him away from me, because I want to prove to him I'm not scared. Or maybe I'm trying to prove it to myself.

Sit with the discomfort.

Despite everything, I don't think Roman would physically harm me, not like my attacker did. But Roman already has something my attacker never did; an emotional hold on me.

Roman could do some serious damage to my psyche if he wanted to, and that actually scares me more than a knife to the throat. Physical wounds heal. It's the psychological wounds that rip you apart.

"I don't know what you"ve done to me, Lux," his voice is low, hoarse, like he's trying to hold himself back and barely succeeding. "But all I think about is you. When I'm in class, when I'm with my guys, when I'm stroking my cock in the shower…"

Oh, damn. Images of him in the shower, wet, his hand wrapped around his large cock, invade my mind.

I blink, shaking my head. I should shove Roman away, and stop this right now. He's dangerous. Bree was trying to warn me about him. And even knowing that, I still fall so easily into his trap.

But…if I pull away now, that may make him suspicious, and I need to play this game. For Bree. The closer I get to Roman and his crew, the more answers I can get. I just have to be careful.

He dips his head lower, his lips hovering above mine, so close, I can practically taste them. My eyes flutter closed as he continues, " I think about your luscious-fucking-body. All your curves, the weight of your tits in my hands. The way you moan when I have my cock buried deep inside you…"

I bite my bottom lip to keep from moaning now. My center is flooded with heat, and my clit is starting to tingle, coming alive with the images he's conjuring in my head.

"Touch yourself," he commands, still impossibly close, but not actually touching me.

I don't immediately comply, because I'm trying to gather myself, and draw on every ounce of resistance I have, which isn't much, actually. When it comes to Roman, I've never really had much power to resist. I never admit that to him, though, of course.

"Unzip your jeans," he says, his tone hard and urgent.

With my eyes still closed, I do as he tells me, unbuttoning, then unzipping my jeans, so they're gaping open.

"Now, touch yourself." Again, I don't immediately comply, and that seems to make him angry. "Lux, do it. Or we'll stop this right now, and I'll walk away."

Yes, walk away, my mind screams. But my body is on a completely different level, and acting on its own accord. My hand slips past the waistband of my panties, and the curls shielding my center. The second my finger brushes against my swollen clit, I jolt, my back slamming against the wall behind me.

He chuckles, and the sound reverberates through me. Even though we're not touching, I can feel him surrounding me, his scent, his warmth, his strength…

"Now," he breathes, "Slide two fingers into your pussy for me."

I do as instructed, sucking in a breath as my own two fingers fill my channel. "Good girl," he soothes. "Now, imagine it's me inside you. Find a rhythm."

I start stroking, my hips moving with every motion. I'm almost too wet to get any traction, but I don't stop. It feels too good.

He inhales deeply, and maybe I just imagine it, but it sounds shaky, like he's trying to hold on to his control. "God, I can smell your sweetness." I hear him swallow. "Good, nice and slow. Now, go deeper, and use your palm to add pressure to your clit."

My strokes get longer, and deeper, and the pressure of my palm on my clit almost shatters me. I'm already on the brink, and I can't help but moan.

Suddenly, the door to the study opens, and I pause, my eyes flying open. Thank God, Roman is blocking me from the view of whoever just walked through the door.

"Out!" Roman yells without even looking at who it is. Silently, the intruder slams the door shut again.

I straighten and start pulling my hand out of my jeans, when he stops me with a glare. "Ah, ah, ah. I didn't say you could stop. Widen your legs, and use the wall for support."

Again, I do as instructed, inching closer and closer to the promise of release. My entire body is wound so tight, I feel like I'm going to break under the pressure of it.

"Now, go deeper, put more pressure on your clit," he says in my ear, his warm breath brushing across my cheek. "It's me inside you. It's my cock filling you. It's my cum coating that sweet cunt."

Images of Roman fill my mind, his hips pistoning as his cock fills me to the very brink. My clit is throbbing, my core tightening…

"That's it, baby. Let me fuck you. Let me reach inside and touch your fucking soul." His voice is hoarse, like he's right there with me on the precipice, teetering on the edge of the abyss.

I pop up onto my tip-toes, and tilt my head against the wall and…just give into the myriad sensations rushing through me. At this point, I'm adding so much pressure to my clit, I'm practically grinding it under my palm, moving in circles as my fingers reach as deep as they can.

"Now, let go," he says. "Come for me, baby."

With his permission, I shatter as a powerful orgasm slams into me. It's a tidal wave of hot pleasure, sucking me under, stealing the breath from my lungs. I'm gasping as he continues to coach me. "That's it, don't stop, ride it out. Small circles until the orgasm starts to fade."

It takes several seconds, or minutes maybe, before I can breathe again. I fall back onto the balls of my feet, and sag against the wall.

"Fuck," I breathe, opening my eyes. He's looking at me with an intensity that makes my pulse race…again. "This is why you're dangerous."

A smile spreads across his face as he pushes off the wall, and takes a step back. My gaze drops, and I see the evidence that he was affected by what just happened. Even through his pants, I can see he's rock hard. Still, he doesn't make a move towards me.

"I'm dangerous? I didn't even touch you."

Yeah, exactly. He has the power to talk me into climaxing. "Suggestion is a form of manipulation," I point out.

He laughs at that, glancing down, before looking back up at me, our gazes colliding. "When are you going to admit it, Lux? You want this just as much as I do."

My first instinct is to deny it, but I have the sudden, sinking feeling that what he's saying is true. And after what just happened, I don't know how long I can keep denying it. There's something toxic, and twisted happening between us, and as afraid as I am of Roman Rush, I'm powerless to stop this freight train of emotions from careening off the tracks…