Roman’s mouth devoured mine, fierce and unrelenting, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t holding anything back. My nails dug into his shoulders, my legs trembling as his hands explored every inch of me like he had been starving and I was the feast and I loved it.

Chase had always been gentle, careful, polite. He made love the way one shook hands at church; neat, practiced and almost rehearsed. But this…this was a storm. Roman was the chaos I had always feared and secretly craved. ...