Her breath stuttered out of her. “Old scar. Got it climbing a fence.”
He ducked his head and pressed his mouth over it.
The sound she made wasn’t a gasp.
It was small enough to burrow deep into his veins.
He dealt with the rest of their clothes—stripping her methodically and staring at every inch he uncovered before moving on to the next. And he couldn’t lie and claim that his hands were entirely steady.
When she was bare beneath him, she didn’t attempt to cover herself. She just looked at him, all that toughness right on the surface, but the tenderness deeper in her eyes chiseled away at the crack in his chest that got wider by the second.
He’d been cold with her. Short with her.
Told himself it was the job, but knew it was fear.
Not of her. Of this.
Of what long-buried things she could pull out of him.
He pressed his lips to her collarbone and worked lower, sweeping his mouth over her breasts. When he swirled his tongue around her nipple, she clutched his hair and her hips rolled, seeking friction he wasn’t giving her yet.
He sucked on her hard nipple and trapped the other between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it in sync with his sucking pulls.
“Rome!” she gasped.
Inching lower still, he learned her with his mouth and hands. He reached her inner thigh and dragged his beard stubble against the sensitive skin, making her issue a low cry.
He locked eyes with her. Saw her breaking apart before he ever gave her what she needed.
He parted her thighs, and dipping his head, he pressed his tongue to her slick folds.
“Rome!”
He burrowed deeper, gathering her flavor and rumbling a groan that she echoed with one of her own. As he swept his tongue up and down the seam of her pussy, he learned what made her knees shake, what made her arch.
What made her buck.
He sucked on her nubbin, taking her higher and higher. Working two fingers into her soaking heat, he felt her go rigid beneath him.
“Rome.”His name came out splintered.
He found the rhythm she needed and didn’t let up, sucking and finger-fucking her. She rocked against his hand, gripping the sheets, her breath coming in short bursts.
He threw himself into pleasuring her with his mouth and tongue—and a graze or two of his teeth that made her tremble—until she stopped fighting the climb and gave up all at once.
With a muffled cry, a full-body shudder shook her as he coaxed her over the edge.
“Oh god! Rome!” She jerked into his mouth and hand, taking, taking, until the final cry tore out of her and she collapsed.
He pressed a tender kiss to her inner thigh, fighting to control the need to sink into her clenching walls as he waited for her to come back to him.
* * * * *
Stina stared at the ceiling and tried to find the parts of her that just split apart.
Rome moved back up the length of her body, unhurried, his mouth grazing her hip, her ribs, the scar he’d kissed like it wasa war wound that deserved acknowledgement instead of a silly slip when she was jumping a fence to join her friends on private property.
And for that…she knew she was in serious trouble.
