𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝘴𝘪𝘹

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐈𝐀' 𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Countless times, I'd fantasized about Ronan Martinez fucking me—doggy style, missionary, sideways, from behind, in bed, on the kitchen counter, in his car, the office; and it's quite inevitably consumed the entirety of my headspace. I never actually thought I'd get to live any of those fantasies, especially not with Nora dating him. But right then, holy fucking hell.

"Are you comfortable?" Ronan asked, hands undoing his cufflinks. He peered at me through his fingers as if trying to gouge my reaction.

There's a massive bedroom in his penthouse, and the view is simply spectacular. Of course, he'd rather placate himself with...other things, and I hope to hell and back that I'm on his to-do list. Quite literally, as a matter of fact.

"Did you seriously just ask me that?" I pushed off from the wall, stalking up to him. Yes, I was still hot and bothered and aching for his touch, but I was here, and he was here, and I was not leaving until I'd gotten what I wanted. I was not leaving until I had him.

"I want to know if you'd like anything." He slipped his shirt off his body, the material creasing when it rolled over his biceps. Ronan discarded the piece of clothing on the ground and swept me up in his muscular arms, his stubble grazing my neck.

Cassiopeia did not give in easily, not even to Ronan Martinez. And no, I was not sorry. I wasn't going to let a man have me without working for it.

"Hey, stop it," I said, doing my best to create distance between us. It was no use; I was cradled in his hands, the same hands that had taken to—literally—crushing my spine.

Not that it did anything to dull the ache between my legs.

"Ronan, you can't just force a girl to go home with you and try to kiss her like some fucked up caveman." I trailed my fingers along his bicep. A burst of ink peeked from over his shoulder. I wondered if he had any tattoos, but from what I could see, his arms were desert-bare. "You gotta warm up to her. Work up to the climax. Nip her in the bud."

Ronan blinked once, then twice, staring at me as I ran my hands up and down his exposed arms. No, I didn't have a thing for arms, I just had a thing for Ronan.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Cassiopeia?" His voice was rough, gravelly.

"No, Ronan," I told him, refusing to make eye contact. It wasn't a lie, per se. "I want you to make slow, sweet love to me. I want you to pleasure my insides. I want to scream your name until my throat goes raw."

And God, was it true. I wanted Martinez more than I'd ever wanted anything. It could've been human psychology, maybe I wanted something I couldn't have, but even then, as Ronan crushed me with his arms, I still wanted him. More than it felt safe to admit.

With not so much as a nod, he curved my legs so they were secured around his waist, then he cupped my face in his free hand, dipping his head so his lips were levelled with mine. Because he's so much of a fucking tease, he brushed his lips against my own, his other hand tracing God knows what onto bits of my exposed skin.

I supposed that was the part I should have begged him, but I did not beg, and I was not willing to start then.

"Are you going to keep acting like it's not taking all of your willpower not to—" I didn't get to finish my sentence before his lips covered mine. He gently nibbled on my lower lip, and I made a show of restraint, keeping my lips together—well, as "together" as I possibly could—eliciting a long, drawn out groan from his part.

God, I wanted this. No, I needed this. And holy damn, the wait was worth it. His warm tongue skittered over my lip, and I didn't know when it happened, but I parted my lips, releasing a tortured whimper.

Maybe I should just let go.

A hand hiked up my dress until it couldn't go up any further, and Ronan broke away. I felt silly just thinking about how much the separation affected me.

"Upstairs?"

"We don't need a bed."

Something flashed in his brown eyes-the promise of a challenge, maybe, but I'm too bothered about Ronan's similarity to a fucking robot to pay attention to the need unfurling in the pit of my abdomen.

"Martinez, are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" His tone was gruff, annoyed. I didn't blame him.

"You've gone...rigid." The horrific realization that Eleonora might not have been telling tales when she said he was vanilla crossed my mind, but if that was the case, then I'd successfully dug myself deep into a pit of trouble. If I wanted to have sex with an inanimate object, I'd fuck around with a dildo or something.

"I—"

"I'm sorry, Ronan," I breathed out, unwrapping my legs so they touched the ground. The didn't quite touch, but when I stretched hard enough, my toes managed to scrape the tiles. "I feel like I'm forcing you to have sex with me."

"You're not wrong," he said, confirming my fears. "But you're not on point either. I do want you, I swear it, but...not like this?" he tried. I didn't miss the wince. "God, that is extremely pathetic. I meant, maybe we could take it slow. Not too slow. Definitely not baby steps. But... you're aware I recently got out of a relationship with your sister, and the similarities between you both is jarring, to say the least. I didn't think it would affect my skills, but I thought wrong." He brushed a few loose strands of my hair back. "Give me some time, Cassiopeia. That's all I ask." His voice dropped to a low whisper.

Mine mirrored it. "What if I can't? What if someone else comes along—"

"Listen to me, Cassie. I'm not backing out. I want you. Hell, I need you. I'm not strictly asking for exclusivity, but the idea of you screwing around with someone else really fucks with my head." He paused, looked me in the eyes as if to think to hell with it, and he invaded my mouth with his once again, an arm wrapped around my waist to keep me steady.

My thoughts were a complete frenzy, but I could make one thing out. Ronan Martinez really needed to get his shit together.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

Apparently, I'm back.

A few problems with this chapter; it's been so long, and I mean so very fucking long, like, light years long, since I wrote in first person past tense and holy hell it felt so awkward and stiff. Yes, it's because of that stiffness that Ronan wasn't able to function as a human being.

Hopefully I fall back into the swing of things. Have a wonderful day!