by Alexis James
Once the breakfast dishes are done and Cruz and Bella are headed off to the doctor with their parents, Marco takes his leave. After pulling on our shoes and straightening the living room, Roman urges me into his arms. “You going into the office?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty tired.”
His hands frame my face. “Come home with me.”
My heart skips a beat. I’d love nothing more, but I know exactly what that might mean for the two of us. “That’s a big step.”
He nods. “Yeah, it is. And I’ll understand if you say no. I’ll also understand if you say yes and when we get there all we do is crawl in my bed and sleep.” He drops a brief kiss on my lips. “Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than to be with you. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”
Overthinking is what I’ve done my entire life and frankly I’m tired of it. For once I want to go with the flow, take a chance and see what happens. If that means we end up sleeping together, so be it. If that means I chicken out, well … I’m sure it will be fun up until that point. Either way, leaving his side—today of all days—just feels wrong.
“Emmy is at Maya’s all day babysitting,” I remark with a smile.
He grabs his keys in one hand, my hand in the other. “Follow me.”
Ten minutes later we’re pulling into the parking garage of his swanky apartment building. I park in the visitor spot across from him, my heart pounding a nervous staccato as we take the elevator up to his floor. His grip on my hand is tight, like he’s almost fearful I’m going to bolt, and if I wasn’t so darn anxious I might find that humorous.
We step inside a small but classy apartment that’s a mixture of tile and dark hardwood floors. His kitchen is modern and filled with stainless-steel appliances, and I’m happy to notice that it’s clutter free. No dirty dishes in the sink for this hot guy.
“Nice place,” I comment, moving past the kitchen and into the living room. It’s decorated solely for the man who lives here: big screen television, soft leather couch, simple coffee table. Granted, everything in his place is far better quality than anything I own, but there’s nothing frivolous or unnecessary—no pictures, no plants, nothing personal except for the pair of sneakers perched in one corner.
He shrugs and tosses his keys down onto the granite counter. “I like it. It’s simple. You should see Cruz’s house. It’s a damn mansion.”
Snickering, I pull open the slider and step out onto the long, narrow balcony that runs the length of the entire apartment. “Yeah, I pictured him living in a house with about ten bedrooms.”
Roman moves up next to me. “Close. I think there are six.”
“What about Marco?”
“His place is cool. Ocean view, all glass and metal. A little cold for my liking.”
Funny how each home perfectly represents the man. “Someday I’m going to move to a bigger home. In a better area of town too.” Yawning, I turn to face him. “Show me the rest of your place.”
Weaving our fingers together, he pulls me back inside and down the hallway near the front door, pointing out the small extra bedroom and guest bath before shoving the master door wide and stepping into the room. Like the other parts of the house, it’s no-nonsense and very much like the owner. The king-sized bed is centered on the adjacent wall, flanked by nightstands on either side. All the furniture in the room, including the wood-slatted headboard, are in a deep, dark cherry wood, an almost exact match to the wood flooring. His comforter is simple, light gray and white stripes, and large overstuffed pillows in a darker shade of gray are propped up against the headboard.
Sheer drapes cover the sliding door, muting the lighting and offering a semblance of privacy. There’s a decent sized walk-in closet and a clean but rather utilitarian bathroom boasting a large shower stall and soaking tub. He’s added warmth to the space with plush gray rugs and thick white towels that hang on the two towel racks but other than that it’s as no-nonsense as the rest of the house.
I turn to him with a smile. “This place is so you.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. It just … suits you.”
He kicks off his shoes and I follow suit. When he peels back the comforter and flops down across the mattress, my stomach knots anxiously and I can only stand there staring at him, blinking profusely.
Instantly sensing my nervousness, he murmurs, “Hey, we’re just gonna rest okay?”
Nodding, I climb up next to him and snuggle into the crook of his arm, instantly relaxing into his embrace. A flurry of worries and questions muddy my overtired brain but now is not the time to be fixating on what might or might not happen. Go with the flow, I remind myself with a heavy sigh, closing my eyes and starting to drift off. Whatever happens next … happens.
The vibrating buzz of my phone pulls me slowly from sleep. Blinking myself awake, I glance down at the woman sleeping in my arms. Her body is wrapped around mine, one leg tucked between my knees and her hand lies innocently on the waistband of my jeans. Sure doesn’t feel innocent to me and apparently by the way my body reacts, it doesn’t think so either.
Reaching for the phone, I swipe my thumb across the screen and lower my voice just above a whisper. “Hey, man. What did the doctor say?”
Cruz responds in his typical brusque way. “Just a virus. He needs to rest. Isabella will stay with him again tonight.”
“I can help out.”
“She’ll call if she needs anything. I’ll keep you posted.”
Setting the phone aside, I feel Sabrina stirring in my arms—something else is also stirring—and with a heavy sigh I force my eyes to the ceiling and try to think of anything except the warm beauty in my arms. She moans softly, snuggling her face into my neck and sliding her hand down just enough to cause my eyes to roll.
I should wake her. Yeah, that would be the right thing to do, instead of lying here letting her torment me with her touch. I’m sure when I do wake her she’ll turn every shade of red and throw out some lame excuse so she can leave.
Leaving is the last thing I want her to do.
“Roman,” she moans, rolling her hips against mine. Christ, I’m a pretty decent guy but this right here … this is more than I can take.
Pressing my lips to her forehead, I murmur, “Hey, beautiful. Time to wake up.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and try again. “Wake up, Sabrina.”
Sleepy blue eyes immediately lock on mine and a slow smile lights her face. “Not just yet. Can’t we sleep for a little longer?” She shifts slightly, and I feel her breath on my ear as her fingers tighten around the bulge in my pants. “I like the way you feel.”
Every curse word I’ve ever said is chanted silently in my head as I attempt to muster up some restraint. “I like the way you feel too.”
She lifts her head to look directly at me. “Would you … um … would you take your clothes off for me?”
Keeping my jaw from hitting the floor takes every bit of willpower I have. “I can do that. But I have to ask, are you sure about this?”
She shrugs as her eyes roll down my body, right to where her hand still covers my package. “I’m sure about what I want.”
I debate whether or not to push for more clarification, but really, what’s the point? I’ve got a beautiful, eager woman asking me to get naked for her. A woman who can’t seem to disconnect her hand from my cock. Why the hell would I dare protest now?
Rolling to my feet, I grab the collar of my shirt and pull it over my head, my gaze returning to hers the moment the garment hits the floor. The zipper sounds loud in the quiet room, as does the soft whoosh when the denim pools at my feet. Kicking the jeans away, I peel off my socks and stand before her, silently questioning my next move.
Sitting upright, her eyes make a slow perusal of my body. I can tell by the flush on her face and the increase in her breathing that she’s physically responding to what she sees. And trust me, she’s seeing plenty even though I’m still wearing boxer briefs. The large tent
in the front leaves no doubt about what I want, and I shoot her a cocky grin when her gaze lingers there.
“Sweetness, you gonna return the favor?” She blinks nervously but a moment later, I see her shoulders straighten and her chin lift defiantly. She may be nervous, anxious, and uncertain, but she’s also determined as hell. And damn … there is nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants.
Standing next to me, she makes quick work of her T-shirt and jeans, turning to me with a bold expression when I gawk at the pale blue lacey bra and panties. “I have a few questions.”
“Of course. Ask me anything.”
Biting her lip, her fingers stroll lightly over my abs as she speaks. “I’m not … um … prepared. Do you have condoms?”
Christ, she may not know that she used the term in the plural form, but my dick sure does. “Yes, I do.”
She keeps her gaze averted, though her words are anything but shy. “I have very little experience. But I’m willing to … um, you know … try.”
Fuck … talk like that is going to make me come before we even get started. “Just tell me what you want, what you need, and what makes you feel good.”
“You make me feel good,” she whispers, her forehead coming down onto my chest. Pulling her into my arms and feeling her bare skin against mine is like being jolted by electricity. Need pulsates between our bodies as her curves mold perfectly to my hardness. Even though I have this almost animalistic need to fuck her into next week, I have an even bigger need to take care of her and see that she’s satisfied completely; I also need to let her know that this chance she’s taking on me is worth the risk.
“Tell me what you want,” I urge, keeping my voice low and steady.
Time stops while I wait for her to speak, presumably while she works through the fear and indecision in her head. When she finally lifts her eyes to mine and takes a step back, all I see is an unyielding determination to have what she desires most.
Her finger pops the elastic at my waist. “Take these off.” Immediately compliant, I shed the briefs and let her take in her fill. The slight flush appears on her cheeks again, and I can see her nipples puckering underneath the lace of her bra, evidence that she’s as turned on as I am.
“What do you want, beautiful?”
Her gaze drifts slowly up to mine, and she whispers, “I want to touch you. Lie down.” Christ, this demanding side of her is a huge fucking turn-on. I bet she’d like that side of me as well, I think as I prop my head up on a pillow and spread out in the middle of the bed.
Sabrina climbs up next to me, kneeling by my side. Leaning over, she places her lips against mine, gently easing my mouth open and teasing my tongue with hers. The kiss is heated but brief and then her lips are kissing along my jaw, over the slope of my ear, and down my neck.
She kisses and licks a path over one shoulder, across my pecs, and lower. Silky blond hair skims the surface of my skin and while I’d love to grasp of handful of it and guide her where I need her most, I force myself to remain still and let her take her pleasure.
“Your body is magnificent,” she whispers, trailing her hands over my abs as she straddles me and takes in the view. My fully erect cock bobs eagerly against my stomach and when she bends down to continue her kissing fest on one hip, I can feel her warm breath inches away—which is both thrilling and frustrating as hell. Grinding my teeth together, I force restraint, pulling it from way down deep, even though I feel like at any moment I’m going to come undone all over us both.
“What do you want, Roman?” she asks, sitting slightly upright, though her eyes seem fixated on my dick. “Tell me. I want to know.”
While I somewhat doubt that, I’ve lost the ability to sensor myself, growling, “I want to fuck your mouth.”
Needy blue eyes flash to mine and she smiles. “Is it bad that I like when you talk dirty to me?”
“God no. Does it turn you on?”
Her head bobs up and down. “Yeah, it does.”
I can sense the shift between us, walls falling down as we step into new, unchartered territory. “Lose the bra and panties.”
The hesitation is brief before she hops off the bed and reaches behind her back, undoing the bra and slowly sliding the straps down her arms, baring her breasts. She tosses the garment aside with a sassy grin in my direction then hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and pulls them down and off.
I hear myself gasp, my body hardening further at the sight of her fully naked in front of me for the first time. She’s perfect, long and lithe and rounded in all the right places. My eyes immediately latch onto the perfectly groomed strip of hair between her legs, which seems totally unexpected given her complete lack of sexual experience.
Climbing up next to me once more, she murmurs, “Glad you approve. Jack said you might.”
Arching my brow, I reply, “You talked to Jack about your pussy?”
She snickers. “Well, yes and no. He simply suggested I might want to tidy up before we had sex.” She laughs again, the sound lighthearted and free. “He might be gay, but he’s well aware of what men like.”
“Guess I’ll have to thank him.” My hand shoots out, fingers drifting between her legs, finding her beautifully wet. “Christ …” Rein it in, Moran … don’t want to scare her away.
“That feels good,” she whispers, inching her legs apart slightly.
In my book that’s all the encouragement I need, but I still feel like I need to remind her that she’s leading the way. “I’ll do anything and everything. But you have to tell me what you want. I need to know that what I do is what you want.”
Our eyes meet and she nods obediently. “I want … I want to feel your lips on my skin.”
My brow shoots upward. “Okay. Where?” Her answer is a smug grin and a quick lift of her slim shoulders. The weird spark of electricity shoots between us again, and I somehow manage to state, “Lie down.”
She’s studiously watchful as we reverse positions and now it’s my mouth working a path over her skin. I take my time, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her skin, a mixture of sweetness and spice that sends my senses reeling. She remains perfectly still, just as I did, until my mouth latches onto one nipple, and then she’s arching into me, grasping my hair in her hands.
My lips and tongue work the beaded nipple and when I tease it gently between my teeth, she moans low in her throat. I pay equal homage to the other breast, leaving the bounty only when she’s panting. I swear I can hear her heart beating loudly in her chest.
My lips skim down her stomach and her legs fall open before I can even coax them. God, I love this compliant, beautiful woman. If she had any idea of the things I want to do to her, she’d probably run far away as fast as she could. I have every intention of telling her what I want, eventually, and showing her … if I’m lucky. But right now my sole purpose is to bring her to orgasm with my mouth then spend the rest of the day deep inside of her.
Her body tenses the closer I get but a quick stroke of my hand down her leg seems to steady her fears and once more she’s arching into my touch. The first lap of my tongue makes her squeal, the second makes her gasp. And when I slide two fingers in deep and suck heartily on her clit, she moans loudly and gasps, “Oh yes!”
Feasting on her is a joy but also a lesson in patience, in willpower, in torment. Knowing how incredibly responsive she can be is what pushes me on and gives me the strength to fend off my own orgasm. Her taste is intoxicating, something I doubt I’ll ever get enough of in this lifetime. Thankfully she seems perfectly content to let me hang out and enjoy as much as I want, gripping tightly to my hair and rotating her hips.
Hooking my fingers just slightly, I hit that perfect spot inside of her that’s guaranteed to drive her crazy. She doesn’t disappoint, pulling my head in tight and riding my tongue like I can only hope she will soon be riding my cock. Then she’s coming against my mouth, moaning out my name, and thrashing under me, shaking through the pleasure for long, blissful mo
ments that I help guide her through, until she falls limply against the mattress with a content sigh.
Lifting my head, our eyes meet and her lips lift in a slow, satisfied smile. “Oh my.”
Chuckling, I rise up over and kiss her long and hard, letting her taste herself on my lips, my tongue. She moans again, clearly not yet satisfied completely, thank God. I have big, big plans for her, starting and ending with the hard as steel cock that’s making its presence known against her stomach.
I take a moment to pull some condoms out of the nightstand drawer, sit back, and roll one on while she intently watches each and every move. She’s grinning when I stretch out over her, a soft blush highlighting her cheeks. “What are you smiling about, gorgeous?”
“You. That was so damn sexy.”
“The condom?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
“Like seeing me hold my cock, huh?” Red stains her cheeks even deeper, and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head. “That’s good to know. I’d like to see your hands between your legs.” Cupping her breast, I roll her nipple between my fingers. “Would like to see you playing with these too.” I linger for a moment then lift my eyes to hers once more. “But I gotta be honest. I really, really need to get inside you now.”
She arches one blond brow. “What are you waiting for?”
Jesus, every part of my body feels singed with her words, and I grit my teeth hard as I growl out, “I need you to understand it’s not gonna be sweet or gentle. Not this time. I’m too close to take a lot of time.”
Her hands frame my face. “I don’t want sweet or gentle, Roman. I just want you.”
I probably should have given her some warning, but a man can only be expected to hold on so long. Instead, I line myself up and thrust in deep, bottoming out in her slick warmth as she gasps at the sudden intrusion. Breathing through the almost desperate need I have to fuck her like an animal, I give her a moment to settle in and then I pull out and thrust in again.
