Page 136 of Twisted Little Game

He sighs against me, kissing my neck, then dropping low again to kiss all along my inner thigh. “I knew it when you stayed by me at the hospital. When you came to protect me, that night… I knew it when you demanded every fucking thing from me, Tate. I am in love with you, too.”

He plunges his mouth over my cock again and swallows me whole.

Inside, and out.

My arms tug at the restraints as my body shudders in place under his tongue.

I tilt my head backward, looking up at the clear night sky as a cold breeze blows past, kissing my skin.

His finger pushes inside my hole a little deeper.

Then a little more.

Even though it’s a fraction of his cock, it feels incredibly intense.

His body is silhouetted by the orange glow of the fire pit behind him, and I feel like I’m now being overtaken by the fallen god I saw in him earlier.

He takes me deep into his throat and I groan loudly. The windows to the house are open wide, and I don’t give a fuck who hears me.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” I breathe. “I love you so fucking much—God⁠—”

I lose control as he wraps his hand around my base, stroking and tugging as he sucks the cum from me. I pulse, over and over, as he takes me through the waves of my orgasm, and afterward, I collapse backward onto the chair.

“So perfect,” I hear him saying softly as he strokes a hand over my hair. “Bound for me, like this. Coming for me so fucking hard.”

“You could leave me tied up like this all year, and I’d come anytime you told me to,” I whisper.

My voice sounds broken and hoarse.

A sound comes from the back of the house, and the door swings open.

“Poker? We’ve got to do poker,” I hear Weston’s voice float over in the air.

I lock eyes with Roman, and a wide smile spreads over his face. “Should I leave you like this?”

“God, I hate you.”

He shakes his head. “No. You love me. I know all of your secrets, now.”

He stands up, looming over me. For a moment I really do think he’s going to leave me there, tied up and naked from the waist down. But at the last second, he yanks away the knots restraining me, freeing my arms, then tosses me the big, soft cape from around his shoulders.

He blows me a kiss and walks off toward the other guys, giving me enough of a distraction so I have time to slide my pants back on beneath the cover of the cape.

He’s still protecting me, even in little moments like this. I used to wonder if Roman would even give a shit about me, after my stalker was taken care of.

I realize it’s been a while since I’ve wondered that.

When I’m with him, it feels like this is inevitable.

Like no matter how our lives collided, we would always end up like this. Me, desperately in love with him, bound up and craving him constantly, and knowing he finds protection within me, too.

And him, being a dark fucking superhero that he’ll never admit he is.

Roman says he’s a bad person, but I’ve never believed it for a second. He’s never seen me as just another famous name, or a disappointment to the legacy my father built.

Both of us needed freedom from our legacies. And I’m going to carve out a new one, with him.

“Hey! Count me in,” I shout toward the other guys when I finally have my pants zipped up.