Born to be Bad (International Bad Boys Book 3) (12 page)

Please.

Trust yourself.

Trust in good.

Trust that I love you so much and always have.

Ivor xx

Roman balled the letter into his palm and tossed it.

He trusted no-one, especially himself tonight.

When there was a knock at the door, he angrily opened it, assuming it would be Isaak or security, or whoever.

He never thought it might be Milly.

“What do you want?” Roman said when he saw that it was her.

“I wanted to say thank you for what happened down there.”

“I should have knocked his head off.” Roman shrugged and walked off as Milly came in. He headed to the bedroom and started to get changed, taking off his shirt he opened up his safe and she could see the defined muscles in his back as he pulled on a fresh shirt and pulled out some wads of cash.

“Well, you’ve said thanks,” Roman said. “Now it’s time for you to go.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Oh I think it might be wiser to. You don’t want to know me right now.”

But she did—her very fleeting sex-life was all but over. Soon her pregnancy would show and she’d be a single mum, plodding through life. Tonight, she wanted to know what it was really like to be with the bad boy, who was going to live in her heart forever.

“I’m warning you, Milly . . . ”

“Warning heeded,” Milly said and slipped off her coat, so that she stood only in her stilettoes and underwear. Roman merely rolled his eyes.

“Am I getting a free one, for what I did downstairs?” Roman sneered. “Because I don’t take charity.”

“Oh, no, you’ll pay me,” Milly said. “And you’ll pay me well.”

“You’re no
souka
,” Roman said. “Have the guts to admit it.”

“I’m no
souka
,” Milly said.

“Then, get out. Cos I’m not into making love tonight.”

“You think that’s what I’m here for?” Milly demanded. “You think I’d be here to be sucked like an olive pit and then spat out. I want to burn, I want to hurt, I want—” Her breath was coming too fast, and she wasn’t acting, she wasn’t pretending, he unleashed her, both the light and the dark.

He looked down at her nipples sticking out like thistles through the silk of her bra and he could smell the arousal.

“I don’t want you in my life, Roman,” Milly said. “I just want you tonight.”

“Go,” Roman said. “Milly, get the hell out.”

“But I
want
to be here.”

“Get on the bed then.”

She walked to the bed and went to take off her bra but he halted her.

“I take it off.”

Milly lay there as he went to the wardrobe and came out with some ties.

His breathing was angry as he tied one wrist to the bed head and then he took the other wrist and tied it.

“Undress,” Milly said.

“You have no say here,” Roman said and he held a tie over her eyes but delivered a final warning. “Get the fuck out . . . we both know you love me . . . ”

She laughed in his face.

“Last chance, Milly, stay or leave?”

“Stay.”

His jaw was rigid, his eyes were savage and that was the last thing she saw as he tied the silk over her eyes.

Milly lay there, listening to him undress. She heard the slide of his belt and the sound of his zipper and for a moment she had this most terrible panic for the baby, but then she breathed out, because she trusted him. There at her base, she did.

Roman came onto the bed.

She could feel the scratch of his thigh and his erect cock as he sat on her leg and secured her ankles so that her legs were splayed apart.

It didn’t scare her. Milly had been tied to him and her body had been under his command from the moment they first kissed—that it was physical felt no different really.

“Scared yet?” Roman asked.

“Do you want me to pretend that I am?” Milly checked. “Then, yes, Roman. I’m scared. But I’m not though . . . ”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Why didn’t you hit Clifford?” Milly asked. “You saw what he did to me yet you didn’t hit him. Nor Ava, no . . . after all she did you didn’t lost it that night.”

“
Zatknis
! That means shut up.”

He climbed off and went out to the lounge and picked up the bottle opener and flicked out the small knife.

“What are you doing?” Milly asked, but it was said with such curiosity that Roman actually smiled.

“You’re not supposed to ask.”

“Oh.”

She felt the cool of metal as he sliced off her panties, and Milly swallowed, feeling the scorch of his gaze as he stood over her. He sliced open her bra and she lay naked now, but nowhere near pleading for mercy.

“I want to forget you,” Roman admitted.

“Then take me and then do.”

He breathed in through his nostrils—he could never forget her.

“Fuck me, Roman, if that’s what you want . . . ” It was the first and last time she swore.

He put a hand over her mouth, yet she tongued his palm.

Did it come to this? He looked down at Milly who lay there just so unafraid of him.

And then he looked at Milly again and he took in the changes. The darkened areolas when they had been the palest of pink. Roman knew her body well; after all, he saw it each night in dreams. He took in the slight thickening of her waist, and all the changes he’d searched for, but hadn’t been there with Ava.

“Why are you here?” Roman said and Milly frowned because there was a husk to his voice. “I want the truth now.”

“Because I wanted to be with you one more time.”

“And then?”

“And then we’re done,” Milly said and he knew then she hadn’t been going to tell him about the baby. She wasn’t out to trap him, if anything she was doing her best to set him free. “So do what you’re going to do, Roman. But for the record, I’m not scared of you, I never have been nor shall I ever be. If anything I’m more turned on than I’ve been in my life.”

“I could do anything.”

“Then do,” Milly said.

Trust, Roman thought. Clearly she did. She trusted that he would not hurt her.

If he ever he doubted there was love, he must remind himself of this, Roman thought as he looked down at her.

She lay there, completely accepting of him, being brave for him, prepared to walk away from him for the sake of their child and if that wasn’t love, then what was?

Roman climbed off and took a seat by the bed, his head in his hands and he had never cried except tears were coming now. Silent ones that came from the depth of his soul and he swallowed then down for he would never let her see them.

“What are you doing, Roman?” Milly asked, because he had gone silent.

“Keeping you in suspense,” Roman said.

She heard him swallow and the shudder of his breathing and Milly lay there, a touch nervous now, because she really didn’t know what was happening, she just felt the shift in the room.

She heard him come to the bed and felt the indent of the mattress as he climbed on.

“Roman . . . ”

“Quiet,” Roman said and came over her, his knees were either side of her chest and he lifted her head and placed a pillow under it and he saw the nervous lick of her lips.

“Open your mouth.”

Milly took a breath.

“Open.”

She did, she felt his hands go to the side of her head and she reminded herself that she had chosen to be here.

She could be his whore, Milly told herself and parted her jaw further.

She was prepared for everything and anything except for the one thing he did—and it was by far the cruelest thing Roman had ever done.

She felt the unexpected placing of his lips on hers and she wanted to tear her mouth away as she realised it was his kiss, but his hands held her head so there was no choice but to receive it.

Anything, anything but that, Milly thought, tears sliding from her eyes.

She could taste the salt of tears and she thought they must have trickled from under the tie.

“Please don’t.” Milly begged to his mouth, but he hadn’t stopped torturing her yet. His kiss deepened, his tongue delivering a silent demand for hers to join in this dance with him, and she tried to fight it but his lips and tongue were insistent until her mouth obeyed his.

Roman took his mouth from her lips and worked it down her neck into her breast and he took a nipple into his mouth. Her breasts were already incredibly tender, her hand jerked on the silk tie in a futile attempt to remove the suction of his mouth.

“Roman, no,” Milly begged, because she didn’t want to be made love to by him, she didn’t want to give that part of herself again, just for him to take it back tomorrow. “Please stop,” Milly pleaded as he brought her nipple to a tender peak in his mouth.

“
Vsyo budet horosho
” Roman said, only this time he repeated his words in English. “It will be all right.”

“You said that last time,” Milly wept as he turned his attention to the other, teased her breast with slow soft kisses till her body ached for him to take her more deeply in. Milly wished he would stop because he was doing the one thing she dreaded, he was making love to her again, whispering endearments and she couldn’t bear the thought of attempting to get over the velvet of his lies again. “Crazy about you Milly . . . ” Roman said, as he swept her body with his mouth, tasting her all over, kissing her, caressing her with his hands as he did.

His mouth was now hot on her stomach stroking its way down.

“Roman . . . ” Milly’s jaw gritted, as he slipped two fingers inside and then his mouth started to work her clitoris. “Please stop.”

“Why?”

Her body was one burning blush, her legs splayed and her hands tugged again at the confines.

Milly could hear for herself how turned on she was. She could hear the sound from his fingers sliding rapidly in and her sex did not lie and neither did her hips as they started to lift from the bed in search of that teasing mouth.

He gave her only a moment of it. Roman buried his face in her heat and she moaned to the probe of his tongue. Her wrists stung as she struggled to free them, just to get him off, or was it to keep him there, because Milly let out a sob of frustration as the private tasting halted and she felt him position himself between her legs.

He knelt between her legs and slipped out his fingers and Milly felt him stroking himself at her entrance.

He released one of the ties from her right ankle, and Milly went to kick him, furious at him for making her need, but he caught her calf and held it as he slipped in just a little way, refusing to take her fully. He inched just a little way and teasingly thrust. The leg he held with his hand was shaking—Milly was fighting with herself not to wrap her leg around him and urge him deeper in.

Only when he knew he had her did Roman release her.

Roman loosened the other tie to her leg and lay over her, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, but still refusing to fill her as her body craved for him to.

“Say it.” Roman said, because he needed to hear that she loved him.

He knew that she did.

“You couldn’t pay me enough,” Milly spat.

He was in just a little deeper but still not enough, freeing her arm and then the other, and she lay there her hands unrestrained when she wished that they were, for he was on his elbows, and moving deep within her now.

It was her body rather than her lips that told him she loved him for on reflex her arms wrapped around his shoulder and her legs coiled around his hips. Milly kissed him back wildly as she dragged him deeper in.

Then cruel, ever cruel, he removed the tie from her eyes and he knew just how much she loved him, for there were angry tears in her eyes and quickly she closed them.

“It’s okay,” Roman said.

It had never felt more okay to him than it did now.

“Hate you,” Milly said between kisses, because he reduced her to this, a writhing mass in his arms. “I hate you.”

He called her his star, but in English this time and she would prefer the whip than the lash of words that would scar her heart for ever, because right now she forgot that this was his game, his kink, his escape.

“
Ya ne mogu zhit’ bez tebya.”
Roman said as he started to build to come. “I love you, I cannot live without you.”

He said it in English too, though it was not needed, for her body flared to the thrill of his words on first saying.

It felt like love, it felt like passion, it was the most intense moment of her life, as he drove her to orgasm, she lifted to him, came with him. His moan of release shot through her, and as she came, she admitted her truth.

“Hate you,” Milly said between kisses, because he reduced her to this, a writhing mass in his arms, a paid for woman who yearned for more. “I hate you.”

And with those three words, Milly knew, she admitted her love.

M
illy woke facing
away from Roman, though his body and arms were wrapped tightly around her. She looked around the room and there was not a broken chair, nor an upturned bottle, in sight.

Roman must have been up in the night—for, looking over to the bedside table, Milly saw that there was a thick wad of cash.