Revenge With Step-Daddy
He growls, deep and low, and kisses me harder, tongue stroking mine, claiming every inch.
Flashes keep going. Phones recording. The whole world is watching us burn.
I don’t care.
I slide one hand up his chest, around his neck, and flip the middle finger to every camera pointed at us.
Roman laughs against my mouth—dark, satisfied—then kisses me again, slower this time, deeper, tongue sliding lazy and possessive like he’s reminding me who I belong to.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard, foreheads pressed together, he whispers against my lips.