“Please.”
“For what?”
“You know what.”
“Say it.”
I glare at him through half-closed eyes. “You’re the worst man alive.”
“Probably.” He kisses my throat. “Ask nicely.”
I hate him enough to obey. “Touch me.”
He slips two fingers inside me.
I arch so hard the bed creaks.
He smiles against my skin and starts moving them slowly, deep enough to make my whole body tighten around the rhythm. He curls them once and I nearly climb out of my own skin.
“There,” he says softly.
I can’t answer. I can barely breathe.
His mouth goes back to my breasts while his fingers keep working me open, patient and devastating, building me slowlythis time instead of tearing through me like he did on the piano. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Exactly how much to give, when to pull back, when to press harder.
By the time he kisses his way down my stomach and spreads my thighs wider with his shoulders, I’m shaking.
“Roman—”
He looks up at me from between my legs, dark eyes steady, mouth already wet.
“What?”
“Don’t make me beg again.”
He drops his mouth to me before I can say anything else.
I cry out and clutch at the sheets.
He eats me like he has all the time in the world and no intention of letting me survive it with any pride intact. Slow at first, then harder when he feels how quickly I’m climbing. His tongue works my clit while his fingers fill me, and every time I try to catch my breath, he gives me something else to moan for.
“Please,” I gasp again, because apparently he has reduced my vocabulary to one pathetic word.
He groans against me at that.
The vibration sends me over the edge.
I come hard, all at once, my back arching off the bed, my hands in his hair, my whole body pulsing around his fingers while he keeps licking me through it. When I finally sag back against the sheets, trembling and breathless, he rises over me and kisses me.
I taste myself on his mouth. That alone nearly starts me again.
I reach for his belt this time and he lets me. My hands shake, but I get it open. Then his trousers. Then his cock is in my hand, heavy and hot and so hard it makes my mouth water before I can stop the thought.
Roman looks down at where my hand closes around him and says, voice rougher than before, “Be careful.”
I stroke him once.
He shuts his eyes.
