Friday morning arrived too fast.
Sienna stood in her bedroom staring at the packed bag on the bed. Two nights. Forty-eight hours away from Roman. The thought sat in her chest like a stone. Downstairs she could hear her mother moving around, cheerful and efficient, already loading the car.
Roman appeared in her doorway without a sound.
He closed the door behind him and locked it. For a moment he just looked at her, jaw tight, eyes dark. Then he crossed the room, cupped her face, and kissed her like he was trying to memorize the shape of her mouth.
“I hate this,” he said against her lips.
“I know.”
He backed her toward the bed, pushed her down, and pulled her panties aside with one impatient hand. There was no time for slow. He freed himself and sank into her in one deep thrust, coveri
