Page 355 of Romeo

He was already learning—the way my breathing changed, the sounds I made, how my body tensed or relaxed under his touch. Every response became part of his understanding of what I needed.

When his thumb found my clit, I couldn’t stop the sound that escaped.

“There?” he asked, though the satisfaction in his voice suggested he already knew the answer.

“Yes.”

He circled slowly, maintaining just enough pressure to make me squirm but not enough to push me over the edge. It was maddening and perfect and I wanted more.

“Jasper, please.”

“Please what, Ma Belle?”

“More.”

“More of this?” He increased the pressure slightly, and I nodded frantically. “Or more of this?” Two fingers slid inside me, and I gasped at the sudden fullness.

“Both,” I managed. “Everything.”

His laugh was low and dark. “Greedy girl.”

But he gave me what I asked for, his thumb working my clit while his fingers moved inside me, finding that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. I could feel the tension building, my body tightening around his fingers, and I grabbed his shoulder for something to hold onto.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Come on my fingers, Cher.”

The words combined with the relentless pressure of his thumb pushed me over the edge. I came with his name on my lips, my body clenching around his fingers as pleasure rolled through me in waves.

He didn’t stop immediately—just kept working me through the aftershocks until I finally pushed his hand away, oversensitive and trembling.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said, bringing his fingers to his mouth and tasting me without any self-consciousness.

The sight made something clench low in my belly despite having just climaxed.

Jasper noticed, of course. He noticed everything.

“Want more?” he asked, positioning himself between my legs.

I nodded, already reaching for him.

He entered me slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size, and I wrapped my legs around his hips to pull him deeper. The fullness was perfect, the slight stretch exactly what I needed.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, his forehead resting against mine. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

He started moving, slow and deep, and I matched his rhythm instinctively. This was different from our wedding night—less desperate, more deliberate. We had time now. No one was waiting. No one was coming.

“Touch yourself,” Jasper said, his voice rough. “Want to feel you come around my cock.”

I hesitated for only a second before sliding my hand between us, finding my clit and circling it the way he had shown me. The dual sensation—him inside me, my fingers on my clit—was almost overwhelming.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, his hips snapping harder. “So fuckin’ good, takin’ what you need.”

The tension built faster this time. my body already primed from the first orgasm. I could feel him getting harder inside me, could hear his breathing becoming ragged, and I knew he was close too.

“Come with me,” I whispered.

His eyes locked on mine, and something passed between us—understanding, trust, love—and then we were both falling. I felt him pulse inside me as my own orgasm crashed through me, and the intimacy of coming together, watching each other, completely vulnerable was almost more than I could process.

He collapsed beside me afterward, pulling me against his chest, and we lay there catching our breath.