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the back of my throat are all I can manage—and even those are being pushed out of me as he rams himself into me over and over.
    “You feel your cock in my pussy?” he asks again.
    I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my brain to conjure a word. Just a word! “ Yes! ”
    “Whose cock fills my pussy, Logan? Huh? Whose cock?”
    Air —that’s the only thing I can worry about as he slides a hand up my back, his touch warm and oh-so-welcome. I have to remind myself to breathe. I’m so turned on, I'm afraid my arousal is killing brain cells. I feel his hand slide underneath the fabric at my side before he moves to find my breast. The groan that spills from my mouth seems to fill the entire theatre. He pinches my nipple and I know I’m going to come any second.
    “ Whose. Cock? ”
    “Mine! My cock,” I whimper. I open my eyes when I feel them well up with tears. He pinches my nipple again and a sob of pure joy clogs my throat. “Roman, baby—I’m gonna come!”
    When I reach the brink of my orgasm, I squeeze the bar in my hands so tight, I know my knuckles are white. I call his name as my climax hits— hard— and seconds later, he thrusts into me once more before he stills, spilling his release deep inside of me.
    He lets go of my nipple and gently squeezes my breast as he presses his lips against my back. His breath is hot against my skin, but I welcome his tenderness. I need it, and he knows it. I don’t bother to wipe away my tears, not yet. I free the sob that I’ve been holding back, and he circles his other arm around me, holding me close.
    The first time he fucked me so hard I cried, I’m pretty sure it freaked both of us out. He panicked, thinking he had hurt me; I was so overwhelmed, my blubbering explanation that I was more than fine was barely understood.
    I didn’t know it was possible to feel so good.
    Now, I don’t fight the aftershock of my euphoria, knowing he’ll hold me until it passes.
    He always does .
    “You okay?” he murmurs, his lips still against my skin.
    “Yeah,” I sniff, covering his fingers on my stomach with my own.
    He pulls his hand from out of my dress and wraps his arm across my chest, holding me tighter as he brushes sweet kisses across my shoulders. He gives me a couple minutes to pull myself together before he squeezes my hip. “Come on,” he says as he slides out of me slowly. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
    He takes up his pants as he stands, and I yank my dress down, straightening the top after Roman’s handiwork. I brush my fingers across my cheeks, wiping away my tears, but I know that I’m probably in desperate need of a mirror.
    “You either swear right now that you’ll wear panties the next time you wear that dress, or I’m burning that thing.”
    A giggle bubbles up inside of me and it takes every ounce of will power I’ve got left to suppress it. I have to clear my throat before I speak. “Or you could just punish me again,” I tell him, groping for his body in the dark. My hands come in contact with his chest and he wraps his arm around my waist before leading me to the exit.
    “I’m not kidding, babe. Panties .”
    I sigh, noting his resolute tone. This dress was a one-trick pony. Then again, it brought me jealous Roman, dirty Roman, and tender Roman all in one night. I’d say it was a good ride.
    “Okay, baby. I swear.”
    “Good,” he mutters, pressing a quick kiss against my temple.
    As he leads me down the corridor he carried me through earlier, I can feel his cum leaking out of me, sliding down my thigh.
    Ew. I love my husband, I really, really do—but that shit’s gross.
    “Rome, I need a bathroom—ASAP.”
    He chuckles, squeezing my side as we start to descend the stairs. “I should make you wear it after the stunt you pulled tonight.”
    “But you won’t ,” I insist, slapping my hand against his chest.
    “I don’t know,” he teases. “It would definitely scare away a few of your admirers.”
    I scoff, looking up at him.