Perfect Monster: A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs)
Perfect Monster: Chapter 24

Roman shoved my legs open roughly and licked his tongue around the folds of my pussy.

He teased my lips and rolled his tip along my swollen clit. My back arched, my eyes widened. He pinned my hands to my side and I wrapped one leg around my neck, pushing him down against me harder.

I wanted the rough stubble on his chin and cheeks to mix with the soft delicious pleasure of his tongue. He grunted something animalistic and I rolled my hips, struggling slightly against his grip on my hands, but he was iron and I was soft wool, and there was no escape for me.

Not that I wanted any. He tongued me like lightning, like heaven, like an open blue sky for miles and miles and miles, and I squeezed my eyes shut and said this name, Roman, let it drip off my tongue as he growled in response, my beastly man, my perfect monster, my massive killer. He licked me, he sucked me, he drank me deep and kept me pinned there no matter how hard I pushed back, and he walked me right to the edge of that cliff—

Right to the edge, that blissful cliff, my muscles taut, all of them flexed and tightened, my mouth wide open, his name now nothing more than a meaningless gasp, an oh god oh god—

But before he let me tumble into dark bliss, he wrenched himself back and pressed his cock against me.

I stared and screamed in pleasure as he ripped himself into me.

Deeper, deeper, I sank deeper into him as he fucked me. He held my hands up above my head, kept them there with one massive paw, he licked my nipples and bit them, he bit my lower lip, he bit my neck and throat, he fucked me so hard I thought I might break, and the pleasure and the pain and everting in between mixed in a wild bubbling joy inside of my body, and he kept fucking me, and I writhed my hips against him, feeling the pressure build again, straining for that moment, that just-out-of-reach incredible moment—

“Come for my princess,” he whispered in my ear, railing into me with ruthless disregard. “Come on my thick cock and suck off your juice when you’re done, my filthy fucking girl. Wrap this cunt tight around my thick cock and come for me.”

I exploded along his shaft, the orgasm rolling in waves and waves and waves, sweat pouring between my breasts, my beast pinning me down like his captive, and when I could breathe again he pulled his cock from inside, made me kneel before him like a good girl, and I sucked his shaft and tip and licked him lovingly, licked him clean until he came on my tongue. I looked him in the eye, swallowed every drop, and he kissed me when he finished.

We collapsed onto the couch together, his arms wrapped around my body, and I purred against his chest.

I’d never felt so safe before in my life.

It was like admitting what happened to me unburdened something. I found a kindred spirit in him, finally found someone that understood how one event, one violent, violating, intense series of seconds could burn themselves in a brain and never stop replaying.

I was stuck in my past, in that series of miniscule events, doomed and cursed to relive each agony and degradation—

Except when he fucked me. Except for when I came.

He kissed my neck and cupped my breasts. He liked my body, liked to explore it, and seemed to do so without thinking. He ran his fingers and palms over my ass, my thighs, my belly, and yes, my scar, running a knuckle around it absently. He kissed my ear and nibbled it, nuzzling me like a loving bear.

“You were supposed to cook me dinner,” I said as my stomach growled.

“Instead, I had my way with you. It worked out for everyone, I think.”

“I’m not complaining.”

He laughed and gently ran his teeth along my chin. “Do you want me to cook for you now? I’ll feed you and take care of you, and when you’re feeling ready, I’ll take you into my bedroom and spank you again. This time, I’ll lick your cunt from behind then smack your ass over and over until you come. Would you like that?”

“God, yes.” I shivered and leaned into his chest.

His phone rang. He glared at it, vibrating on the coffee table.

“Go ahead.” I extracted myself from his arms, even if it hurt. “Answer. I know your calls are important.”

I could see the struggle in his eyes. I decided to make it easy on him and walked into the kitchen for water.

He picked up. “Yes?” Long pause. “That’s good. Set it for tomorrow. Yes, and make sure they show. Good work.” He hung up and tossed the phone aside before standing.

Big man. Scary man. He walked over, slapped my ass, and began pulling out pots and pants and rifled through the refrigerator for something to make.

“Who was that? Or should I not ask about your business?”

“That was Erick calling about Manzi. He’s been found and they’re bringing him back tonight.”

I felt a little chill and wrapped my arms around myself. I never stayed naked like this, not for long anyway, but Roman seemed so comfortable walking around with nothing on his body—not that he had any reason to hid. The man had a cock like a nuclear weapon and the muscles to back it up.

“That’s good, right?”

He nodded. “We’ll have a meeting with the Ramos—“ He glanced at me, frowned. “Dia’s people. We’ll have a meeting with Dia’s people and get things straightened out.”

“Will they kill him?”

“Giatno won’t let them.”

“But I don’t think he has the final say.”

Roman paused, staring down at the food he’d gathered. Eggs, spinach, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, peppers.

“I want to avoid violence.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

A little smile. God, I loved that smile.

When did I start to feel this way?

“Maybe you’re changing me.”

He got to work and I watched. He cooked two omelets with precision and perfection.

Nothing less from a man like Roman.