Chapter 12

She moaned, a combination of distress and capitulation to his words leaving her lips. He captured the sound with his mouth, taking her lips with his for the first time, stealing her breath with a growl. He wasn't gentle. There were too many years of waiting between them. Too many long, agonizing years. Too many spoken and unspoken words. He took her mouth with a violence that shocked her to the core, yet told her unequivocally whose woman she was. There would be no escape for the escape artist.

He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth until she thought she would choke on it. He forced himself into every part of her mouth, memorizing every facet and imprinting himself on her. Taking from her without asking. His teeth clashed against hers until she was sure he would cut her. She whimpered, desperate for the assault to end, but still he continued. She could do nothing but curl her fingers against his bare shoulders and hold on for dear life while he took and took from her what she had denied him for so many years.

Finally, after what felt like ages, he pulled back. He dropped his forehead onto hers. She could feel him practically vibrating with restraint. Holding himself back from just tearing into her the way he'd torn into her mouth seconds before. Her lips felt swollen and sore from his ravishment.

"Jesus fuck, Katie. So fucking good. I don't know how I can be gentle enough with you," he gritted against her cheek. His body caged hers on the bed. She felt every inch of his much bigger frame against hers.

He clenched his fingers in her hair, controlling her, while his lips explored her face and ear, returning to her lips again and again. She moaned as pleasure and pain merged each time he pressed himself against her swollen mouth. His other hand roamed her body, sweeping down her ribcage, touching her body intimately for the first time. She felt the tremors going through his big frame and knew it wasn't from nervousness. No, it was the savagely leashed aggression threatening to break loose at any moment and light the bed on fire with them in it. He wanted her with an intensity that could wreck her, but he didn't want to hurt her beyond repair.

She trembled underneath him, afraid of what he could do to her. She felt his big palm caress her breast. Her back arched of its own volition, pushing her chest into his hand. He groaned and closed rough fingers over the perfect globe, squeezing her. His hand snaked behind her neck and made short work of the halter on her bikini top. With a tug he pulled it down, revealing both of her round breasts.

Katie's hands jerked up automatically to cover them, but he smacked them away with a growl. She blushed and refused to look at him. "Too small," she whispered.

He frowned and took her chin in his hand, jerking her face back to him. His dark eyes glowed with anger and frustration. He always hated when her insecurities showed. "Perfect," he growled. "You will never insult what's mine again."

His hand dropped from her face to touch the B-cup breast, tipped with a large pink areola and now stiff coral nipple. He pinched the nipple between thumb and forefinger and steadily applied pressure until she cried out and reached for his tattooed wrist. Her hips bucked underneath him in perfect response to the bite of pain. His eyes flared in acknowledgment.

"Understand?" he growled.

She gasped as her pussy flooded with heat and moisture. "Yes," she moaned, rubbing herself wantonly against him, uncaring that she looked like a desperate slut, eager to get off because he was giving her the bite of pain she needed with her pleasure. It felt so incredibly good. Her head tipped back and she forgot to tug his face up to hers as he licked a path down her body, between her breasts toward her flat stomach.

Her eyes flew open in remembrance only when she felt him approach her naval, felt the tug of the bikini bottom loosening against her hips as he pulled the ties and muttered against her waist, "Have to taste you."

"No!" she cried out reaching for him just as he lowered his head to her thighs. He might not have even noticed the faint scars if she hadn't made the colossal mistake of jerking her thighs out of his hands and attempting to roll off the bed.

"Yes, Katie!" he roared, his fingers biting deep into her hips as he flung her back onto the bed. She could tell from the tone of his voice and the brutal bite of his hands that he thought she was teasing him once more and withholding the ultimate prize.

She cried out and began struggling as he dragged her under him. He reared back, reaching to shove the jeans down his muscular thighs, a savage look on his face. He was done waiting for her. If she wasn't going to come easy then he was going to take what she wouldn't give willingly and they would sort the rest out later. They had a lifetime to figure things out.

Katie held her breath, her arms lay stiff at her side. She waited for him to crawl over top of her and take by force what she would have willingly given him if he'd just given her more time. Been a little sweeter. She waited, expecting to feel his bruising touch as he fell on her and ravaged her flesh. Instead, she felt something far worse, something she dreaded from the first moment she realized that Roman loved her and would one day come for her. Because she knew he would see her damage and discover she was as fucked on the outside as she was on the inside.

He caressed her. His fingers lightly running down the inside of her thigh. She flinched away from him, knowing he'd discovered her shame. Of course, he wouldn't allow her retreat. He took her thighs in two huge hands and wrenched them open. Her eyes flew wide and she cried out. Not wanting to see him staring down at the scars that covered the inside of her soft flesh, she stared at the ceiling over the bed, unseeing while he examined her.

Roman instantly recognized knife wounds for what they were. God knows, he'd inflicted enough of them on others to know exactly what they looked like. These were delicate, almost beautiful, like poetry or art. Crisscrossing her legs from mid thighs right up to her tender pussy and further. He leaned closer, his warm breath caressing her labia. All arousal had fled though. He wasn't pleasuring her, he was examining her. He was looking at the tiny white raised scars across her labia and further inward on her inner lips and even on the hood of her tiny clit.

She felt the fury rising within him like the tide of an ocean as he took her pain into himself. He thought he knew everything about her. What a joke. Roman knew nothing except what she gave. Tiny little breadcrumbs. Until somehow, he'd discovered the blackmail and ended Colin Schell for her.

"He did this to you?" Roman demanded.

Katie sighed, the sound of her lungs deflating was loud to her ears. He knew better. He just wanted to believe that someone else had done this to her so he wouldn't have to deal with her fucked up head. Poor Roman. He'd kidnapped the wrong woman. The Katie he thought he loved didn't exist.

"Of course not," she said softly.

His fingers tightened on her thighs, bruisingly. She was going to be a canvas of bruises by tomorrow. Oddly the thought turned her on, despite the intensity of their current situation. Roman released her thighs and moved back, his dark eyes never leaving her. Katie immediately clamped her thighs together but didn't move otherwise. She was afraid he might grab her again.

"You did this to yourself," he growled accusingly, disbelief echoing in his voice.

She just stared at him, neither confirming nor denying his words. She didn't need to, he already knew. He got off the bed, pulled his pants back on and paced the room. Katie sat up on the bed and pulled a fake furry blanket over herself to cover her nakedness. She watched him warily. His face had fallen back into its familiar lines of unreadability.

Finally, he turned to her and snarled, "Why?"

The single word felt like a bullet. Katie almost wished it was. She'd been waiting for this moment for years, knowing eventually Roman would see her shame. His reaction was so different from what Colin's had been that it was almost laughable. Colin hadn't even noticed for months after they'd started making love and when he had, he'd simply given her the name of a psychologist friend of his and rarely mentioned them after that. For an artist, true pain and passion had always made him uncomfortable.

Katie shrugged, her bright blue eyes never leaving Roman. She didn't trust him not to grab her again or decide to just fuck her anyway and get it over with. He was being extremely unpredictable. Which was saying something for a cat burglar!

"What can I say, I'm a head case," she replied with a shrug.

His head swung toward her and, though his expression didn't change, his eyes blazed with fury. His fist crashed onto the mattress beside her drawing a shriek of fear from her. He wrenched the blanket from her hands away and tossed it onto the floor. When she brought her hands up to fight him he clamped his hand around her wrists so hard she cried out, afraid he might break them. He shoved her backwards onto the bed with her hands against her stomach. He shoved his knee between her legs and shoved them apart once more.

He reached down with his other hand and cupped her pussy, pressing his thumb hard against her clit, drawing a scream from her. He continued to hold her slippery nub as he leaned forward and got in her face. She panted as sensations overwhelmed her.

"You have damaged my woman. Mi mujer!" he snarled, his accent thickening as he spoke. "So many things you have done wrong, Katie. But this? This is unforgivable."

He released her, shoving her into the bedding before standing up. He ignored the tears that shone brightly in her beautiful eyes and strode away as they spilled down her cheeks and soaked into the bed.