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Her soft chuckle strokes my balls. “I loved it.”
“I loved it, too.”
I love you.
She widens her legs even more and the welcoming way this woman invites me into her body, giving herself to me entirely, is one hell of a mind fuck. I put my finger inside her and her eyes roll back.
“Hate that?”
“Hate it sooo much, Roman.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
I move my finger in and out of her until she’s dripping and so close to release, but I pull back, needing to be inside her when she comes. I roll on top of her and her smile is soft, her mood far more mellow tonight, despite the storm we’re going to face tomorrow. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Tonight, all I want to do is make love to this woman.
I piston forward and slide my cock into her. She wraps her legs around me and hugs so tight, I nearly come. “Jesus,” I murmur, and push her hair from her face. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“I have a little idea.”
“Didn’t we agree that you weren’t to use the word little when we’re talking about sex,” I say, and a laugh bubbles out of her. I laugh with her, and it changes to a moan when she brings my mouth to hers for a deep kiss. She breaks it and cups my face.
“There’s nothing little about you, Roman.”
“That’s better,” I say, and move in and out of her.
“You have a very big...heart.”
“Hey,” I say, and she chuckles.
She wraps her arms and legs around me and pulls me closer, until every inch of flesh is meshed together. This. Right here. This is what I want. Peyton in my bed, and in my life. Tonight. Tomorrow.
Forever.
Her eyes are at half-mast as she gazes up at me, and I lose myself in her just a little more. Impossible, I know, but I have never in my life loved a woman the way I love her. I’m 100 percent positive the wrath of five will be at my door tomorrow, demanding answers. As I think about that, with Peyton coming underneath me, the answer to our dilemma comes to me in a flash.
Peyton doesn’t want to get married. She’s a sworn bachelorette. But what if we did go through with it, if I lived here with her, stayed in Malta, maybe she would warm to the idea of a real husband. As far as her brother is concerned, I’ll have to deal with that when the situation arises. All I know is I’m crazy about this woman, who came from nothing and wants to give everything. She’s nothing like my ex. She’s never said or done anything to lead me to believe she’s the type of girl who’d marry for title or position. I could never be with her if she was. I hug her tight, knowing what I need to do next. I just hope she doesn’t get frightened and run the other way.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Peyton
VOICES—LOUD VOICES—pull me awake and I roll over to find the other side of the bed empty. I jackknife up and the blankets fall to expose my naked body. I scramble to pull them back up before someone comes busting in, and try to figure out what is being said, but everyone seems to be talking at once, and in Italian. My tired brain can’t seem to keep up.
I quietly slip from the bed and pull on a T-shirt and pair of yoga pants. I make a quick trip to the bathroom to fix myself up the best I can, although there is nothing I can do to wipe the contented smile off my face. Yeah, one look at me, and whoever is downstairs is going to know I was up all night making love with Roman.
Making love.
While I love it fast and hard, his touch was a bit different last night. Tender, gentle, so profound it seeped under my skin and wrapped around my heart. Yeah, I know. Not good for a girl who’s a sworn bachelorette. But I feel myself falling, despite everything.
I open my bedroom door, and as my fuzzy brain clears, I gasp and wrap my arms around myself, knowing exactly what’s going on. My God, I can’t go down there. How can I face his family, let lies spill from my lips? I’m about to slam my door shut, crawl under the covers and stay there until everyone leaves, but footsteps pound on the stairs.
Roman’s dark eyes meet mine, but he doesn’t seem upset at all. Maybe I’m mistaken. Maybe his family hasn’t invaded, demanding answers.
“My family is here,” he says, and leans against the doorjamb.
My heart sinks. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“They want to meet my bride.”
