Roman’s large hand burned into my waist, drawing me flush against him. His heat was a living thing, radiating through the thin fabric of my dress.

His gaze remained locked on mine, hungry and impatient. "You're trembling," he murmured, his voice a low, teasing vibration. "Tell me, Savannah, what’s got you this undone?"

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I fought to find my rhythm, to steady the breath that had long since deserted me. "You," I admitted, the word thick and honest.

He smiled—a slow, wicked curl of his lips. He slid his hand up the smooth curve of my thigh, his fingertips tracing the path with a predatory grace, treating my dress as if it were nothing more than a temporary veil.

"I need you," I whispered, the confession torn from my throat.

"I’m past the point of restraint, Sav," he said, his voice dropping to a velvet growl.

He moved with a predator's deliberation. His hands glided down my sides, shifting beneath the hem of my dress. The rough edge of his fingers found the delicate lace beneath, tracing my hip with a featherlight tease that made my breath hitch.

"Roman," I urged, my voice strained.

He lifted his head, eyes raked over me with dark, possessive intent. He leaned in, his lips pressing a searing kiss just above the swell of my breasts, slowly trailing upward. Each touch set a new fire beneath my skin.

Then he stopped, just as I thought he’d finally reach my lips.

He knelt before me, his hands bracing against the rough stone wall, caging me in. He looked up, his eyes dark and ravenous. "Don't even think about looking away," he commanded. "You’re mine."

The sensation was a shockwave. Every nerve in my body was suddenly alight. Roman was a master of exquisite torment, his movements slow and torturous, circling and teasing until my thoughts scattered like ash in the wind.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for the grounding weight of him, desperate for this moment to never end. My body was a live wire, reacting to every breath, every calculated touch.

"That’s it," he rasped, the vibration of his voice echoing in my very core. "You remember. You remember exactly how I make you feel."

"Please," I begged, my voice raw. "Don't stop."

He growled low in his throat, his fingers digging into my thighs to hold me still, keeping me entirely under his control. He moved with ferocious intent, driving me higher and higher until I was trembling uncontrollably, the world outside the shadows of the wine crates ceasing to exist.

I was right there—seconds away from the edge—when he suddenly pulled back.

My eyes flew open in shock. "What the hell—"

"You remember that little discussion we had about begging?" His tone was smooth, the sound of a man who knew he held every card in the deck.

My nails scraped the stone wall behind me. "Roman... now? You’re doing this now?"

I was completely exposed to him, my pulse thundering in my ears. He knelt there, facing me, waiting for the one word that would grant me the release I was starving for.

"Roman..." I was breathless, desperate.

He leaned in, his lips brushing my skin in a ghost of a kiss. "Shh. Not yet."

My hips bucked instinctively. I bit my lip, my pride warring with the overwhelming ache he’d created. He watched me with a smirk that told me he knew exactly which side would win. "You know what to do, Savannah."

My hands clenched into fists. "You're killing me."

"I’d never dream of it," he murmured, his fingers pressing into my skin to keep me in place. "Say it. Ask me."

"I don't beg," I panted, my head thumping back against the stone.

He chuckled, a dark, rich sound. "Then you don't get what you want."

He went back to work—maddeningly slow, featherlight strokes that were worse than nothing at all. He’d bring me to the very precipice, then ease off, over and over, until my knees barely held my weight.

"Please," I finally gasped, the word escaping like a confession under duress.

I had never known a person could hold this much power over me. Until Roman. He had shattered every defense I’d spent years building.

He stilled. "Say it properly."

My eyes fluttered shut, my dignity crumbling into the shadows. "Please... I need this. Let me come."

He grinned like a villain who had finally secured the kingdom. "With pleasure."

The restraint vanished. He worked with a relentless, merciless rhythm that was designed to undo me completely. I yanked on his hair, holding him there as wave after wave of electric release tore through me, leaving me breathless and shattered.

By the time the world stopped spinning, my chest was heaving and my legs were trembling around his shoulders. He rose slowly, dragging his mouth up my body until his lips brushed my ear.

"That," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction, "is what happens when you finally let go."

He placed soft, lingering kisses on my flushed skin as I tried to stabilize my breathing. I groaned, leaning back against the cold stone, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm. But even as the release faded, the hunger remained—shifted, but stronger.

"Please... Roman," I breathed, my voice ragged. "I want you. All of you. Don't stop now."