Roman didn’t take the box.

He left it by the door and followed me into the bedroom instead. I was still naked, still leaking him, legs unsteady from the first round on the couch. He closed the bedroom door, locked it, and looked at me standing there under the soft lamp light like he was deciding how thoroughly he intended to use the rest of the night.

“On the bed,” he said. “On your back. Legs open.”

I obeyed. The sheets were cool against my overheated skin. Roman stripped without hurry—sweater, jeans, everything—until he was fully naked and already hardening again. He climbed onto the bed, braced himself over me,...