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Then his mouth crashes back onto mine, rougher this time, hungrier, like he’s done being patient.
The kiss drags me under completely. Every sharp edge of my anger softens under the heat of his mouth. My hands, which had been pushing against his chest, slowly curl into the fabric of his shirt instead.
A helpless sound escapes me as he deepens the kiss, and I hate how easily my body surrenders to him.
He starts walking me backward toward the bed without breaking the kiss. When the backs of my knees hit the bed, his hands are already on my clothes, stripping them off with impatient, rough efficiency.
I don’t stop him. I don’t want to. My entire body feels like it’s been set on fire. Only now do I realize just how much I’ve missed him these past days.
We’re both frantic now, pulling at each other’s clothes. When his cock springs free, thick and hard, I still gasp at the sight of it. Even after our wedding night, the size of him is something I’m not used to yet.
He pushes me back onto the bed and is on me in the next second. His mouth claims mine again as he settles between my thighs. There’s no soft warning this time. He lines himself up and slams into me in one deep, powerful thrust.
I cry out at the sudden stretch. Even though I’m already wet for him, the intrusion burns. He eases out almost all the way, then drives back in, harder. The sharp edge of pain quickly melts into something hotter, deeper, and far more consuming.
He fucks me without mercy as I moan his name.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growls against my ear, each word punctuated by a heavy thrust. “You missed my cock that much? Is that why you’ve been acting up?”
“What——”
I can’t form a single coherent sentence. The pleasure is too intense, too overwhelming. All I can do is cling to him and take every deep, punishing stroke.
“Where’s that attitude now, hmm?” he taunts, voice dark and rough. “Come on. Show me that attitude again. Or can’t you talk anymore?”
He pulls almost all the way out, then slams back in at the same time his hand wraps lightly around my throat, holding me in place. The dual sensation steals whatever breath I had left.
“You had plenty to say earlier,” he murmurs, thrusting deep again. “Now’s the time to talk, wife. Go on. I’m listening.”
I coil my legs tightly around his waist, locking him against me as the pressure inside me builds to a breaking point. Roman’s hand slides between our bodies, his fingers finding my clit.
He rubs me in firm, relentless circles while he continues to fuck me harder and rougher than he did on the plane.
"Oh my God," I scream.
“Uh-huh. Is that all you want to say?” he says fiercely.
My breasts bounce with every thrust. He reaches up and delivers a sharp slap to one of them, then the other, the sting mixing with the overwhelming pleasure.
His other hand returns to my throat, applying just enough pressure to make my head spin while his fingers never stop working my clit.
Everything feels wild, raw, and completely out of control.
The pressure builds higher than anything I’ve felt before. It’s almost too much. I cry out his name, half-pleading, half-lost.
“Roman…”
“Yeah?” he growls against my ear, never slowing. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Tell me.”
“I want this!”
I can’t form the words. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore. All I can do is cling to him and take everything he’s giving me.
His fingers press harder against my clit. The intensity becomes unbearable. With a loud, broken cry, I shatter. Pleasure rips through me so violently that liquid gushes out of me in a sudden, shocking rush, soaking him and the mattress beneath us. I’ve never felt anything like it before.
Roman doesn’t stop. He keeps slamming into me, voice dark with satisfaction. “Look at you. Squirting all over the place for me.”
He fucks me through the aftershocks until his own control snaps. With a deep, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt and comes hard, pulsing inside me.
