He worked me with his hand, his thumb circling my clit in tight, devastating strokes, and I moaned his name like a prayer, like a curse, as my hips bucked against his palm.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice dark and thick. “Let me hear you. Let me know how good it feels.”
“So good,” I panted, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Rome, I need-”
“I know what you need.” He withdrew his fingers, and I whimpered at the loss, but then he was positioning himself at my entrance, the thick head of him pressing against me, stretching me open in the best way. “Wrap your legs around me and hold on tight.”
I did as he said, and he thrust into me in one long, smooth stroke, filling me completely. We both groaned, the sound mingling in the space between us, and he stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed to mine, his breathing ragged.
“Fuck,” he gritted out. “You feel incredible. So tight. So perfect.”
“Move,” I begged, my nails scoring down his back. “Please, Rome, move.”
He pulled back and slammed into me again, the force of it rattling the dishes in the cabinet beneath me. I cried out, my head falling back, and he took the opportunity to suck at my throat, his teeth grazing my pulse point as he set a punishing rhythm.
The counter was hard beneath me, his hands gripping my thighs to keep me in place, and every thrust drove him deeper, hitting something inside me that made stars burst behind my eyes. I could hear myself making sounds I’d never made before-high, desperate moans that seemed to spur him on, making him drive into me harder, faster.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his voice strained. “I want to feel you come around me.”
I reached between us, my fingers finding my clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. The added sensation was overwhelming, building rapidly toward something explosive, something that threatened to tear me apart.
“Rome-” I gasped, my whole body tensing. “I’m close-”
“Let go,” he urged, his pace never faltering. “I’ve got you. Let go for me, Josie.”
I shattered, my orgasm crashing through me like a wave, my inner muscles clamping down on him as I cried out his name. He groaned, the sound torn from deep in his chest, and then he was following me over the edge, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate, until he buried himself to the hilt and came with a roar that seemed to shake the walls.
We stayed like that for a long moment, panting, resting, and sweating. His forehead dropped on my shoulder as we both struggled to catch our breath. My legs were still wrapped around him, and I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, matching the wild rhythm of my own.
“That was...” I started, but trailed off, unable to find words adequate enough.
Rome lifted his head, his eyes finding mine, and the smile that curved his lips was slow, satisfied, and somehow tender all at once. “That,” he said, his voice rough, “was the best thing that has ever happened on this island.”
Chapter Eighteen
Josie
I liked mornings.
Or at least I liked waking up this morning in Rome’s arms.
I had just turned onto Main Street after having the most amazing night of sex, and I couldn’t stop smiling. Sure, I had to leave him in bed and come to work, he had given me a scorching hot kiss to hold me over until I saw him again.
I fanned my face with my hand and tried to think about anything but Rome naked in bed. “Down, girl,” I whispered to the windshield.
Scoop & Swirl came into view, and my usual rush of pride when seeing the building sank as bright white, spray-painted letters on the front window came into view.
I frowned and slowed my car. At first, I couldn’t figure out what I was seeing, but the words came into focus.
In white spray paint, there were big, messy letters. FAT WHORE
My chest felt like it caved in, and I forgot to breathe.
I just stared as the words blurred, then sharpened and then blurred again.
FAT.
WHORE.
