His cock stands straight up once it’s freed. The shaft rests against his abs, the tip dripping against the trail of black hair. My vision narrows on the erotic sight as I reach for it, wrapping my fingers around him.
He sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth. “I need to finally be inside of you.”
I nod, giving him a slow stroke. My panties are still pulled to the side, keeping me bare. There’s nothing in the way anymore.
This is finally happening.
Suddenly, he’s tipping me back and reaching for the bag sitting on the ground next to us. Nerves erupt at the thought that he’s about to change his mind, but they die completely a moment later when he unzips the side pocket and pulls a foil packet from inside.
“I thought you said you hadn’t had sex in a while,” I say, suddenly cautious.
He settles back into the chair and faces me head-on, eyes on mine. “I did, and I haven’t. These are . . . not usually in my bag.”
“Oh.”
There’s a small twitch of his lips before he rips the condom open and quickly rolls it down his shaft. He settles his hands on my hips and helps me lift myself so I can line us up. My eyes fly back up to his when the soft, round tip parts my slit and prods against my entrance. He rolls his jaw as he nods sharply, looking like he’s holding his breath.
My teeth dig into my extra-plump bottom lip as I sink an inch. His thickness spreads me wider than two of his fingers did. I’m drenched, but there’s still some resistance that keeps us stuck.
“Fuck. Fuck, Roman. I—I’m too tight for this,” I whine, dropping my forehead to his.
His thumb finds my clit, causing me to buck forward. His cock sinks a bit deeper as I open further, and I moan, holding his bicep. The way he flexes turns me on further.
“Tightest pussy I’ve ever been in, baby. But you’ve got to open up for me. Just relax. Focus on this.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to listen to him. He pinches my chin, forcing them open again.
“Look at me while I sink inside of you for the first time, Brielle. Don’t take your eyes off of me. Not now, and not once I’m inside so deep you’ll feel me long after we’re finished tonight.”
The words do more than the direct, confident circles he’s making on my clit. I relax completely, and in one fluid motion, he has me lifting off those few inches and sinking back down completely.
I struggle not to look away when the pleasure bites so deep inside of me that I know I’m going to be left with scars in the shape of his name. There’s nothing to do but feel. No words to say butpleaseandmore. He’s in control, even when I swore to myself that I’d keep it for myself.
“Good girl, Brielle. That’s such a good girl. Keep watching me,” he pants.
The deep press of him scatters my brain and leaves me a gooey mess. Roman’s strength is the only reason we’re moving. He lifts me up and down his cock, panting roughly as I lean against his chest and grip the back of the chair for balance.
From above, I watch through a hazy gaze as he focuses between us. His stare doesn’t waver from where we connect, hisgroin shiny with my arousal. I let out a high-pitched, desperate cry when he thrusts at the same time he pulls me down onto his length, working himself so deep that my brain short-circuits. Clamping around him, I pop my lips open and let my bliss fall free.
“Rome—Roman. I’m . . . it’s— Don’t stop!”
“I won’t,” he swears, voice tight with restraint.
The pleasure goes on and on, not showing any signs of stopping. It’s a free fall to the bottom of the Earth, with a pair of thick, strong arms waiting to catch me.
His thrusts quicken, growing frantic. I clutch onto him and press my face against his temple, riding the last sparks of my climax while yanking his into fruition. His pace is ruthless as he pounds up into me, the sound of our bodies meeting the only sound in the room until he growls my name over and over again.
I nod, dragging my mouth to his and sharing his breath as he thickens inside of me. The hands holding me tighten, nearing the point of pain. His thrusts stutter, out of sync, before I take over, lifting my hips.
“Give it to me,” I moan into his mouth. “Come for me, Roman. I want to feel it.”
He drops his head back against the chair, throat exposed. “Jesus Christ. Take it. Fuckingtakeit.”
I can’t look away, running my hands down his cheeks and holding his face, needing that connection. Not when he bucks up one last time, and not once he’s made the deepest, sexiest noise I have ever heard in my entire life. I remain fully seated, drawing out his climax while he sucks in heavy breaths, not once releasing me.
There’s a small jab of disappointment that appears once I’ve allowed the silence to settle. Not because of the sex. Not by a long shot. I’m disappointed for an entirely different, incredibly ridiculous and reckless reason, being that we used a condom.
I know it was the safe, responsible thing to do, but I won’t lie to myself by thinking that I don’t wish I could have felt him bare this first time. Especially if I’ve misread this entire night after all and he actually does want this to be a one-time thing.
