"Rome," I whimper almost in protest. If he does this, I'm not sure if I can take it. God, I want it, but my heart. I'm going to destroy myself like this, letting him so close to me when I know we have no shot. Besides, he's way older than me, and who would ever respect that?
"Shh," he purrs as his fingers move through the slickness and find my clit, pressing down until my knees almost buckle. He catches me with the arm around my waist and holds me upright against his body. "Do you feel how wet you are, Mila? Stop fighting this. Let me have you."
How do I tell him why I need him to stop? How can I end my own desire when it's what I want? When he's what I want?
His fingers are circling me in slow, firm strokes and my head falls back against his shoulder, hips are moving on their own, pushing into his hand, chasing the pressure. Every time I move my hips, I grind against him and he groans again.
"Fuck, I wanna make you feel good." His mouth sucks at my neck, and he bites down on the tendon below my ear and I gasp. "Are you always this wet for me or is this special?"
"Shut up."
"Answer me."
I don't want to answer him. I don't want him to know I lie awake at night wishing I were in his bed, heart aching because he's going to choose someone besides me. "Always," I whisper, and I hate myself for saying it. But his fingers move faster, driving my pleasure.
"Always," he repeats against my ear. It's sheer satisfaction I hear in his voice, enjoyment that I worship the ground he walks on, but now all I can think about is chasing the sensation, closing in on climax. "I like you needy like this, Mila." Roman kisses my neck. "I want you to drip for me all day long, every day."
He works me with his hand still inside my jeans, his palm flat against my mound and his two fingers rubbing my clit in tight circles that get faster every time I moan. His mouth never leaves my neck. He bites and then he soothes it with his tongue and then he bites again in a different spot, and my nails are digging into his forearm as I tremble.
"Does that feel good?"
"Oh, holy fuck, yes."
"Tell me… Use your words, Mila."
"It feels good." My voice is wrecked. My legs are weak. I'm so close. "It feels so fucking good, Rome."
"Louder."
"Yes… Oh, God, so good." I'm almost yelling and I don't care because his fingers are relentless and my whole body is trembling. I can feel the orgasm building the center of my core, getting closer with every circle of his fingers.
"You wanna come?"
"Yes."
"Say please."
"Fuck you," I grunt, and he laughs against my neck. His fingers press harder and move faster, and my legs are shaking. I'm so fucking close, I could cry. It's building pressure between my legs is so intense, I might piss myself, but I need it.
"Please." It comes out broken and desperate, and I don't even care anymore. "Please, Rome."
"Good girl."
His fingers twist and swirl harder, and I shatter. My whole body locks up against his chest and I groan. My knees give, though he holds me through it with his arm tight around my waist, and his fingers continue moving, drawing it out until I'm shaking and twitching against his hand. The sounds coming out of me are closer to sobs than moans as he whispers praise in my ear.
"So incredible that you let me see you like this. You know that?" He kisses me. "You're so beautiful when you fall apart for me."
He pulls his hand free from my jeans and I sag against him, breathing hard. My eyes are closed, my legs useless. I can feel his hard dick pressed against my lower back, and his breathing is fast and ragged against my ear.
"How was that?" he asks.
"I can't feel my legs." I grin and suck in a breath. After all of that, I need more oxygen, and maybe some fresh air to breathe. It's hot in here.
"You don't need your legs for what's next."
He grips my hips and walks me forward until my thighs hit the counter where a collection of protein powders and hydration drinks are organized. Then his hands hook into my jeans and underwear at my hips and he shoves them down to my knees in one pull. It makes me gasp in shock, but the way his teeth sink into my shoulder snaps me out of it instantly.
"Bend over."
