Her eyes dropped to his mouth, longing to feel those lips on hers once again, kissing him, tasting him. It was maddening, the way logic evaporated when Rome was near, yet she thrilled at his undivided attention. He made her feel wanton, desired and cherished, as if he found her to be everything he ever wanted in a woman. An unbridled seduction that was bound to get her into trouble on so many levels. For it made her forget to resist him and, instead, yearn to give him all she had to give.
She went to tell him that they couldn’t do this again, that they had to maintain a professional distance, but nothing came out.
“You know I want you, Gwen.” His voice was a passionate whisper, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“Desperately.”
Her belly flip-flopped and she licked dry lips. “You just had me.”
“And I crave more. More of your scent, more of your taste.” He cupped her breast through the material of her tank top and she arched, unbidden, into his hand. “I want you in a million different ways and a million different positions. I want your hair unbound and spread out all over my pillow. Tickling my thighs as you ride me. Several lifetimes would never assuage my hunger for you.”
Her legs tightened at his naughty words and it took a second before what he said broke past the desire burning in her blood.
Oh, God. What did he mean by several lifetimes?
“Rome.” Beyond his name, she didn’t have a clue what she was going to say, but then it didn’t matter as his head descended and he put his mouth to hers. Her tongue slipped past his lips, tasting mint and the spice of his passion. The hard length of his erection pressed against her hip, a physical sign she wasn’t alone in this wild attraction. Her hands tangled in his hair, her moan of need swallowed in his mouth, his muffled groan caught in hers.
The flat of his hand moved in small circles over her breast, his palm a rough abrasion across the sensitive tips of her nipple. As their tongues danced, he shoved up her shirt to knead bare skin, eliciting another moan of need from deep within.
He nipped her bottom lip, flicking his tongue over the small hurt before dropping lower to lick a path of fire along her neck. Instantly, she tilted her head to give him access to all he wanted, quivering in anticipation as his hand slid with aching slowness over the smooth, slightly rounded flesh of her belly to cup her mound over her thin pants.
“Remembering this...” he squeezed gently, making her jerk as his fingers rubbed against her swollen clit. “...how slick and tight your sweet pussy felt around my cock had me so hard all day long I finally had to take care of it in the shower.”
In a snap she had an image of Rome, in the shower, eyes shut in ecstasy, his hand gripping his thick cock in hard, fast strokes from root to tip until he threw his head back and roared, his release spilling from him to mingle with the soapy water that rained down over his bare body.
She must have made some sound, or maybe he felt the wave of lust that dampened her panties further because he stopped nuzzling her neck, lifting eyes blazing with carnal appetite. “The idea of me masturbating turns you on?”
Oh yes and mightily so. She licked her lips. “Why not?
Don’t men get turned on by the thought of a woman masturbating?”
A shudder wracked his large body. “Damn, woman.
Watching your fingers play right here,” his hand edged under the waist of both her pants and panties and made a beeline for her wet folds, “Would set me off in less than a minute.”
Gwen’s hips wiggled under his exploring fingers. She bent her left leg, spreading it wide in invitation as he rimmed the edge of her slick opening, teasing her briefly, obviously enjoying the way he made her body dance to his tune before thrusting one finger inside.
Her hips rose up to met him, an inarticulate sound caught in her throat. “Rome,” she breathed out his name.
“That’s good. So fucking good. You’re so soft and wet for me.” He covered one exposed breast with his mouth, suckling hard and deep as he thrust again and again, curling his finger to rub over sensitive ridges.
Gwen was lost, spiraling in a world of pleasure. One hand gripped the back of his head, the other curled like talons over the forearm at her hip. Breath coming in ragged pants, she opened her eyes and looked down, right into the dark gleam of Rome’s. He was watching her every reaction, seeming to see into her very soul.
He let loose of her breast with a wet pop. “Come for me, bella.” A wet swipe of his tongue rasped over her budded nipple and he paused to push in another finger, stretching delicate tissue. “I want to feel you come on my fingers.”
And she wanted to come on his fingers. The tension in her belly was coiling ever tighter as she strove for release.
“Don’t you want to be inside me?”
His soft chuckle sounded pained. “I am inside you.”
Punctuated with another thrust that made her gasp.
“You know what I mean.”
“I only want to please you.”
A wholly unselfish act, considering the rigid length at her hip. He rocked into her with each thrust of his fingers, as if imagining it was his shaft between her legs.
And while she would happily take everything he gave – because she was selfish like that – now was the perfect time to touch and stroke what she hadn’t had the chance to in the tunnel.
Without thought or hesitation, as if they’d been together a million times, Gwen slipped her hand straight past his elastic waistband to wrap her fingers around the amazingly soft skin of his cock. He was thick and long, but not overwhelmingly so, not enough to cause pain, only to provide exquisite pleasure.
“Shit.” He gritted past clenched teeth, muscles bunching as another full-body shudder came over him.
“What are you doing?”
“Pleasing you.” It was heady, this sudden feeling of feminine power.
His hips bucked into her hand as she stroked him. She wiped a finger over the dampness at the tip and he let out a soft curse, retaliating with another deep thrust of his fingers, only this time his thumb joined in, pressing tiny circles over her clit.
Her mouth opened and Rome swooped down to claim the moan of pleasure before it passed her lips. With one hand clamped like a vise around the hot, throbbing length of his cock, she impaled herself against his invading fingers, letting the friction and blinding heat drive her higher and higher until she was drowning in passion.
Rome pulled back enough to growl out, “You were made for me,” and then his lips were back on her breast, creating scorching havoc with his tongue and teeth.
When that coil of tension finally snapped free, waves of intense sensation rippled through her. Her body stiffened for several exhilarating moments before she floated back down to herself. Ears still ringing from the force of her orgasm, she absently ran her hand over Rome’s cock.
Even in the midst of her release, she’d been aware of his own, and had gloried in it.
“Hey, now.” Rome whispered at her ear. He’d collapsed next to her, his breath uneven as he sucked in air. “Stop that. It’s too sensitive.” He tried to pull free from her touch.
“Then you stop touching me.” His fingers were still buried inside her.
“Never.” He nipped her ear and wiggled his fingers, causing her body to spasm in aftershocks of pleasure.
Never was a long time, and she was afraid she might just be in agreement with him.
So give this man, this relationship, a try. That voice inside her was a coaxing presence weaving a spell of possibilities while she was too sated to form much of an argument.
And what if it doesn’t work out?
So pessimistic. What if it does? Are you really going to let this man go without even trying? You’d be a fool.
Any other woman would jump at the chance to be with such a giving, protective, handsome and outrageously sexy man.
The thought of Rome with another woman was enough to make her shift uncomfortably, and want to pluck out the eyes of the unkn
own woman.
“You okay?” Rome leaned up to look in her eyes, easing his fingers from her body at the same time, making her feel suddenly bereft.
Dammit. She was losing her mind. “Just need to...ah...use the restroom.”
Not a total lie. And while she would like to spent hours out here, cuddling with Rome under the stars, she needed time to think and weigh the pros and cons of a real relationship with him. There were too many variables, to many avenues for things to go really, really wrong, and too much potential for true happiness to just toss it aside in one fatal decision.
Those sensual lips of his brushed over hers. “I’ll take you up.”
Oh and how he had. As she straightened her clothes, Rome took her hand and helped her off the swing. They strolled through the back door, up the stairs and to her suite, where she melted against Rome as he kissed her good-night. He didn’t even try to worm his way inside, which both surprised and relieved her. She needed time to regroup and ponder her unprecedented reactions. She was becoming a heathen. Sex outside, heavy petting in places they could have – and almost were in the case of the attic garden – been discovered at any time, lusting after a man who might not be one hundred percent human.
That made her eyes narrow, and after a quick trip to the bathroom, she settled herself in front of her laptop.
Chapter Seventeen
Gwen rolled over with a groan. She hurt everywhere.
Well, maybe not everywhere. Her nose was good, so were her ears, and basically her whole head was fine – thanks to Rome – but the rest of her ached, and as she took stock of the various sores and twinges, she knew not all of them were from yesterday’s physical exertions.
How could she be so aroused it was damn near painful? She’d had two orgasms yesterday. Two. Each so powerful she saw stars. A bright kaleidoscope of beautifully vivid stars. Logic told her it was the synopsis in her head going apeshit, but damn if the sex and the intensity of her release hadn’t been better than any she’d ever had.
Especially with Stupid Steven.
She stretched, letting out another groan as tight muscles pulled and flexed, then she opened eyes gritty from lack of sleep and too much time staring at a computer screen. She’d sat in front of the laptop for hours last night, reading article after article about vampires, werewolves, witches and other supernatural beings. Not that she’d come across a witch, but if there were vampires and werewolves/werecats – or shifters as many articles called them – then it was a distinct possibility that other mythical creatures existed. And she wanted to be ready.
The vast amount of information had been staggering.
Theories on shifters ranged from psychotic animals of mammoth height and strength that slaughtered and destroyed without any conceivable purpose to dark and seductive men and women who were rich, gorgeous and unmatched in sexual prowess.
She was going for somewhere in between. Well, except the sexual prowess part, because, damn.
As that line of thinking wasn’t going to cool her ardor anytime soon, she rose to a sitting position and glanced over at the bedside clock. It was nearly eleven.
Unsurprising since she hadn’t gone to sleep until right before dawn. Foresight had caused her to shut the blackout curtains, throwing her bedroom into darkness so she could sleep in.
Her jaw nearly cracked around a huge yawn and she peered around the dim room, trying to force herself from the comfy mattress. She knew she needed to exercise her muscles to loosen them up, but she was having a hard time finding the motivation to do so.
Her eyes landed on the small pile of clothes on her dresser. Annie had washed and dried her wet, dirty clothes, handing them to Gwen before they had all gone off to bed last night. She had yet to put them away – so unlike her – and seeing them brought back a memory.
And not a good one.
“Oh, shit.” She jumped from the bed and in her haste, nearly fell against the slider when one foot got caught from the tangled bed sheet.
“Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohimigod.” She chanted in panic as she rushed over to the dresser and pawed through the clean clothes.
No panties. Which meant they were still in the tunnel.
The place Rome, Porter, Scott and God-knew-who-else had milled about not only yesterday, but this morning.
Though it was a known fact she’d changed into clean, dry clothes in that pit, what happened between her and Rome down there suddenly made the idea of anyone seeing a forlorn pair of panties scandalous.
Also on her dresser was the loaner phone, and she stared at it, indecisive. It was a company phone and no doubt contained Porter’s number in the contact list, but did she really want to ask Porter to search for her underwear?
Grimacing, she reached for the device and, after a several false starts, scanned down the list of contacts, pausing when Rome’s name came up.
“Call or text?” She asked herself. Texting was less embarrassing, but the phone was a clamshell which, for Gwen, made texting a pain. “Phone call it is.”
The fluttering in her belly had nothing to do with anticipation at hearing his voice, or so she told herself, and everything to do with getting her undies back before they were seen by the entire northern hemisphere. Gwen moved over to the slider and opened the curtains, squinting as bright sunshine flooded the room.
“Felix.”
The clipped, professional tone made Gwen straighten.
“It’s Gwen.”
“Well, good morning, beautiful.” His voice dropped to the same low, husky tone he used when he whispered naughty things to her, while buried deep inside her, urging her to come. A shiver of electric heat arrowed from her head to her toes. “How are you feeling?”
She paced the foot of the bed. Hot and bothered, that’s how she was feeling. “A bit sore. How are you?”
Procrastinating at its best, because she already knew how Rome was. Fine.
“Wanting you.”
She tripped over her feet and fell on the bed. “What!?
You can’t just blurt things out like that.”
“Why not? It’s the truth. I want you again. I want those gorgeous legs bare and straddled across my face, spreading your sweet pussy open so I can lick your cream at my leisure until you’re writhing and screaming my name as you come on my tongue.”
Face flushed with heat, she made a strangled sound, her panties dampening with that cream he wanted to taste.
Her cheeks burned even hotter. “Stop that!”
He chuckled. “Why? Am I turning you on?”
“I was already turned on,” she snapped back before she could censor her words.
Rome drew in a pained breath. “Yeah? You need me to come home, baby, and ease you?”
Crap. There it was. Not completely out in the open, but close enough to some of the things she’d read last night to worry her. Blogs, theories, articles that stated that shifters mated for life, and that when they met their mate, a physiological reaction occurred. Something called the mating heat. An intense period of physical and chemical attraction that bound two individuals together for life, regardless of their emotional connection.
Mates could loathe each other, yet either remain together or return to each other time and time again when the urge to couple became too intense to ignore. It sounded like a living hell to Gwen.
But if they loved each other...
She pushed to her feet, walking to ease her shaking legs. No, she wasn’t in love with Rome. She didn’t loathe him either. Did she care about his well-being? Yes.
Respect him? Who wouldn’t? He was smart, honest, strong, close to his family, thought of others before himself, had a sense of humor, and smelled fantastic.
Desire him? Most definitely.
So she liked him. Alot. But that was a far cry from loving him.
“That’s not why I called.” She gripped the phone, yanking her thoughts to the matter at hand.
“That’s a damn shame,” he groused. “Is something wrong?”
She tugged on her loose braid, mussed from a night of restless sleep. “Did you find anything in the tunnel?”
“We haven’t finished clearing the stairs yet. Once we do, I’ll look for your phone, but I wouldn’t hold any hope that it’s still in working order, bella.”
She already figured her phone was toast. “I don’t mean that. I’m talking about something else.” The last two words were hissed out with urgency.
He paused. “Something else? Like what?”
Oh, but she heard the smile in his voice. The beast.
Pun intended now that she was almost certain she knew the truth. “You know what.”
“Would that something else be soft, pretty and smell like you?’
A growl stuck in her throat. “Dammit, Rome.”
He laughed. “Why yes. I believe those have been found and confiscated.”
She was in danger of grinding her teeth to dust. “And just what does that mean?”
“That means I have them, safe and sound.”
“I want them back.”
He made a low humming noise as if in consideration.
“Hmmm. No. I’m keeping them.”
Her jaw dropped. “What? Why?”
“Because they’re soft, pretty and smell like you.”
She was coming to appreciate Melinda’s idea of a pan to the head. “Rome. Give them back.”
“Then come and get them.” He replied in a husky voice. That quietly worded statement sounded too much like a challenge to Gwen, so she responded the only why she could. She hung up on him.
When she was finally composed enough for human interaction, she found Annie in the kitchen, listening to an oldies radio station while she pounded dough with enough force that Gwen’s brows rose.
“There’s a breakfast burrito in the warmer if you want it.”
With a cautious thanks, Gwen retrieved the huge burrito and tub of salsa from the fridge. “Isn’t this your day off?”
While it was true the bed-and-breakfast did a booming business over the weekends, it was rare to have Tuesday or Wednesday night guests, and if they did, Melinda took care of their needs so Annie and Bob could enjoy their free time.
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