Prepare to be awashed in an abundance steamy sensory satisfaction. Transported to a world where being in love is just one of the many inherent dangers. A longtime fan of author Callie Hart (she writes thee most deliciously darkly alluring heroes and ultra relatable heroines)- I was first intrigued by Roma King when I came across its blurb. I found it to be an utterly unique romance, thrilling in a way that is supremely seductive and inviting. The research, respect and thoughtfulness put into this book’s writing is undeniable. What an experience! I couldn’t put it down. How can I not share all 23 glorious, alternating POV, hauntingly smoldering chapters! I had to make this a super sized edition, just to give you an adequate taste of just how decadent this book is.

Roma King is a page turner in the truest sense of the word and I can’t wait for the follow up, as this is a duet! Which means- MORE!!

The Hero: Pasha, a reluctant King, trying to put distance between him and a destiny he doesn’t want. He’s smart, hard working, principled-and mine. Because – oh, you’ll see!

The Heroine: Zara. A 9-1-1 operator who takes the right call at the right time, landing her squarely in the wrong arms- depending on who’s asking.

I am estatic to bring you, Roma King by Callie Hart.

Her hands are small. The roadmap of veins under her skin, tinged blue and green, capture my attention, refusing to release it as I trace my fingers over them. She is a work of wonder. Her body is like nothing I’ve ever beheld before—perfectly proportioned, all gentle curves, the lines of her artfully rendered—and I can feel my dick stirring in my pants as I trail my fingers up, up, up, along the slender line of her arm, my heart thumping like a kick-drum as I reach her collarbone. Her breath catches in her throat as I stroke the side of her neck, and I begin to realize how absolutely fucked I am. This woman is dangerous.

I transitioned from boy to man a long damn time ago, but never before have I experienced anything close to the surge of testosterone that streams through me as I look down into her hazel eyes. Stunning eyes. Not wholly brown, or blue, or green. A myriad of colors and hues that seem to shift and change with her mood, depending on how she’s feeling. Right now, they’re predominantly blue, the color of cornflowers and Delphinium. A dark, rich brown rims her irises, throwing the blue into contrast, and I see the desire building in her as she stares back at me. Her voice is sad when she speaks, though.

“Oh, Pasha. You’re in love with me.”

From the way she says this, it seems as if she’s only just realized this, and she’s surprised.

“Of course I am,” I answer. “I always have been. I always will be.”

“But…I’m a ghost,” she whispers. I touch the tips of my fingers to her mouth.

“You’re real to me.” How could she not be? Everything about her screams ‘I’m alive!”

“I want you so bad, Firefly,” I whisper into her ear. “I need you wet. I need you panting. I need to feel your pussy tighten as I push inside you. I need it more than anything else in the world.”

“More than air?” she whispers.

“Yes. More that air.”

“More than food?”

“Yes.”

“More than water?” I nod.

“More than sunlight? Or the wind? Or the moon hanging over the mountains at night?”

She knows how much these things mean to me. How my soul would shrivel up and die without them. I cup her face in the palms of my hands, and I press my mouth to hers; she tastes like the dew on spring grass. “Yes, Firefly. I need it more than life itself. I need you to give yourself to me.”

The sound of her laughter, laced with hunger and lust, nearly takes me out at the fucking knees. “What are you going to give me in return?”

“All that I am. Everything. And nothing, depending on your perspective.”

She flicks my top lip with the tip of her tongue, and a surge of heat climbs from my boots, scorching everything in its path as it devours me, rising to the crown of my head before settling in my chest. I want to fucking consume her. There’s a part of me that wants to fucking destroy her, if only so no one else will ever be able to look at her.

“Everything,” she breathes. “You’re everything. I’d say you have yourself a deal.”

The darkness shifts around us, and we’re transported. A huge bed lies before us, dressed in raw silk sheets the color of blood, and the woman, my precious firefly, topples backwards, her full, heavy breasts bouncing as she hits the mattress. I see nothing else. I’m aware of nothing else but her. Her naked form is beyond perfection. Long legs; ample hips; narrow waist. At the apex of her thighs, the dark smattering of auburn hair has my breath quickening and my fingernails cutting into the skin of my palms. Her hair spreads out around her head like a halo made of spun, glowing light. More than beautiful. More than sexual. She’s something out of a fairytale, and I can’t believe she’s fucking mine.

“I’m going to put my hands on you,” I tell her. On my hands and knees, I prowl up the bed, humming sweet discord at the back of my throat as I find myself hovering over her pussy. Not yet, though. I can’t lick her yet. I’ve used my tongue to speak and to taste for twenty-seven years, but it’s not until now that I realize its most important purpose: to bring this woman to climax, to give her insurmountable pleasure. To bring her to the edge of an unknowable precipice and to push her, clawing and panting and moaning my motherfucking name as she hurtles over that edge and tumbles down, down, down… I’d happily go mute, foregoing speech, giving up all of the wonderful flavors of the world, doomed to only taste ash, if it meant I could suck, and lave, and lick her between her thighs, teasing the swollen bundle of her clit every damn day for the rest of time.

I force myself to keep moving up her body, though. When I do settle in between her legs, I’m going to be settled in there for a long damn time, and I don’t plan on surfacing for air if I can help it. There are other things I need to do first. Other things that need to be said. I’m transfixed as I hold myself over her, my biceps warming as I use them to keep my weight from her chest. She looks up at me, eyes wide and innocent, and I’m hypnotized by the peppering of freckles that span the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones. There’s something about them that make her seem so innocent, but when I finally manage to turn my gaze to her eyes, so mercurial and changeable, the heat and the defiance there scatters that innocence to the wind.

… My cock is throbbing, aching with desperate need as I angle my hips upward, lightly grinding myself against her pussy. I’m smug beyond all fucking reason when her breath stutters past her lips, and a judder of arousal travels through her naked form.

“You want me real fucking bad,” I repeat, doing nothing to hide the smirk that forces the right side of my mouth to lift. “What are you thinking about, Firefly?”

“I’m thinking about being on my hands and knees. I’m thinking about my king behind me. I’m thinking about his hands on my hips, pulling me back to him as he rubs his slick cock all over me, rubbing himself over my pussy, sliding his erection up and down, between the folds of my pussy. Between my ass cheeks. I’m thinking about how I would tremble and shake as he pushed his fingers inside me…”

Her pupils dilate, and I watch her very physical reaction to what she’s imagining in her head. Nuzzling my nose into the hollow of her neck, I draw in the smell of her, a featherlight shiver tracing down my spine. “Such a dirty girl,” I rumble. “You’re going to let me worship you. For every demand I make, there’ll be a reward. For every sting of pain, there will be a sea of pleasure to soothe it.”

Arching my spine, I bow myself over her, stooping down, and I suck one of her nipples into my mouth. It tightens in my mouth, the bud of flesh pebbling between my teeth as I gently bite down, and my stunning Firefly gasps at the bolt of pain I’ve sent ricocheting around her body like a stray bullet.

“Pasha! Oh, fuck…don’t…”

Her breathless pleas are like music to my deviant ears. I wait, though, pausing to make sure I’m not overwhelming her. She winds her fingers into my hair, fisting it and pulling…not away from her body, but toward it. Nearer. Closer.

“Fuck! Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

She wants more of me. She will always want more of me, like a heroin addict always needs to chase down their next high, and I’m eaten alive by satisfaction. I will be her addiction. I’ll make damn sure of it. I’ll make sure that she never has to go too long between hits. I’m going to fuck her like this every motherfucking day, until I’m all she wants, all she will ever crave.

“Pasha! Pasha, please!”

Inside, I’m roaring with victory. She has no idea how fiercely I will protect her. She has no idea how impossible it will be for her to walk away from me after this. Her nipple is a blushed, darker shade of pink when I release it from between my teeth. My dick pulses with need as I suck it one last time, and it pops out of my mouth, glistening and wet, and perfect in every way. The swell of her breasts is so fucking distracting. I’m mesmerized by her creamy, porcelain skin—not a single blemish in sight. I’m rock solid as I drink her in, and I feel it: second after second, I’m getting drunk on her. She’s the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever experienced. Is she just as wasted from me? Do I make her head spin, the way mine has been spinning? Does she feel unsteady on her feet every time I walk into a room? I already know the answer to all of these questions: yes, damn fucking straight she does. I can see it in her eyes as they feast on my shoulders, and my arms, and my chest. I know it from the way her hands tremble as she dares to reach out and touches her fingertips to my skin. We are both as fucked as each other.

“I want…” She hesitates. I urge her on by nudging her between her legs with my cock.

“Finish. Tell me what you were going to say. Tell me what you want. Tell me all of it.”

Slowly, with cautious words, she speaks. “I want you to fuck me,” she says. “I want…I want you to play with my ass while your cock is deep inside my pussy. I want your hands on my tits, groping and squeezing me while I ride you. I want your come in my mouth. I want it all over my tits. I want to rub it into my skin, so I can feel you everywhere, all over me, coating every inch of me. I want…”

I growl, thrusting myself a little deeper this time and then wrenching myself away. It’s so, so difficult not to take her. I want to fuck her so hard and so fast right now, but I can’t allow myself to do it. I need her to commit to what she wants from me. My little firefly makes a small, anxious sound, but I can see it all there in her eyes, boiling just beneath the surface.

“Be brave,” I command. “You never have to hide who you are from me. I already see it. I already see you.”

Roma King is available now and via Kindle Unlimited!