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Shelene’s moans vibrated through her. Whatever it was between her and Roman was alive with power and urgency. “Yes, Roman. Yes.”
His hand slipped up her thigh, gripped it and wrapped her leg about him, opening her farther for his complete penetration. He thrust, taking her wholly. The veins in his neck stood out; his expression stark and full of dark needs she was only beginning to understand.
Pleasure crept through her body. First, at the small of her back. She squirmed against the strange ache. He bent his head over her exposed breast and sucked at her nipple. Exquisite and embarrassing as it was, she liked it. She wanted more.
His hand crept up her side and cupped her other breast, thumbing the nipple, bringing with it unbearable torment.
His groans, his thrusts grew more intense. Between her legs, she felt the length and strength of him filling her. The slippery feel changed—each withdrawal a torment of friction. His firm member against her swollen sheath.
She was caught up, swept to some higher plane where her body wasn’t her own. Holding her breath, a new paroxysm took hold. A beautiful, sweeping pleasure rooted at their joining. Did he feel it too? Could she stay, riding this wave with him?
Then she broke apart, hard contractions of her sheath around his erection. Strong then diminishing into sweet, achy pulses. She gasped at the end, boneless, liquid, tired.
His weight bore her deep into the mattress. Tension filled his body, arching over her.
Laboring a bit longer, he pushed into her and groaned out his final pleasure. This part she did not know, and she watched with keen interest.
His breath, hot against her neck, tickled with intimacy.
She rubbed his back, enjoying the hard feel of his muscles and the sultry dampness of his skin. His body belonged to her now. And his soul.
When he lifted his head, he smiled into her eyes. “My wife,” he said.
“Forever,” Shelene said.
