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Whipping around, I stare at him in disbelief. “No,” I deny. He nods. “You did not.”
“Oh, I did. I told you yesterday that your decision-making days were over. I meant it. I spent most of the morning on the phone with Burberry; the sales clerk had great suggestions.” My jaw drops.
“We don’t have Burberry here, Roman.” I can’t even imagine how he pulled this off. “You’re insane.”
“I had it all chartered in from the Tampa location. Only took a few hours.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, and as some big wig CEO, it probably isn’t. “If something doesn’t fit, I’ll just take you there, and you can swap it out.”
“What if I don’t like the style?” I realize I agreed to let him choose every aspect of my life, but I figured that would take some time. He has to learn who I am…what I like. Not everything will just fall into place.
“Why don’t you take a look at all the choices, try a few things on, let me know how I did. I’ll get dinner on some plates.” He’s so cavalier that he doesn’t even know he’s just shocked me with an overload of serotonin.
Squeezing my fingers together, I pinch my arm. “Ouch.”
“What?” Immediately, he’s at my side.
“Just had to pinch myself to make sure this was real.” I don’t know how I’ll repay him for all of this. I can’t possibly. Not in a single lifetime.
“You’re fucking adorable.” He leans down to lay a light kiss on my lips. “You taste like me.” My cheeks flame as he draws back. Turning me around, he gives me a playful shove. “Keep the pearls on.”
I don’t understand how I don’t combust right on the spot. The panties were a gag gift for my birthday last year from Callie. I kept them hidden away, and when I was putting the teddy on, it seemed perfect and fitting. I was oh so very right.
Grabbing some of the bigger bags, I begin pulling out dresses in my size in light pastel colors with cinched waists, cupped shoulders, and hems that will float around my knees. Exactly my style.
Next is flirty skirts that will sway as I move. Most are in darker shades. Black, blue, green, a few purples, and white. Also what I like. The blouses are very sensible; some button up in front, others tie around the waist, and none show too much cleavage.
“I wasn’t sure if you work out, so I didn’t get any activewear beyond bikinis.” All of which are thongs—a contradiction to the other clothes.
“I like to run. I usually don’t have anyone to go with me, though, so I don’t feel safe doing it alone,” I explain as I pull out satin nightgowns. Light pinks, peaches, creams, whites, each, innocent colors.
“Put this one on.” He shows me a rose gold nightgown. Helping me out of the coat and teddy, Roman assists me in pulling it over my head. The soft material hugs my curves, stopping mid-thigh. The scoop neck plunges between my breasts, and I know if I lean over, he’ll see everything.
Smoothing the material across my stomach, I pivot to find Roman holding a pair of kitten-toe pumps in the matching color. “Oh.” He drops to his knees to help me out of the boots, removing the garter and stockings, and slips my feet into the pumps like I’m Cinderella.
Standing up, he steps back after brushing his hands through my hair and pulling some of it forward so the dark curls appear a little messy and frame my face. Scrubbing a hand across his stubbled jaw, a mischievous look enters his eyes as he asks me, “Do you have any fantasies?”
Not what I was expecting. “Yes,” I reply.
“Tell me.” It’s a demand but comes out sounding more like a plea.
“Well, you remember that forum I told you I was reading, about this whole power/control thing?” He nods his head as he sits down on one of the ottomans. “One of the posters was, or maybe is, an author, and she posted a few links to some of her Wattpad stories.” He lifts a brow in question. “Fan fiction, I think?” Some stories seemed original, but others were fan re-creations of published movies and books.
“What’d you find?” Reaching behind his head, Roman drags off his shirt before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, entirely focused on what I’m saying.
Opening another bag, I pull out a cream-colored ankle-length kimono cardigan. “This is beautiful.” I lay it across the arm of the couch, anticipating wearing it already with a pair of ripped jean shorts I saw in another bag. “One story, the man took her against the window of his penthouse, where anyone could see them. It was…exhilarating.” And something I’ve dreamed of many times over.
Standing up, Roman kicks off his work boots, pulls the belt from his jeans, and strips down to his boxer briefs. All tanned muscle and bulging veins, I’ve never seen such a virile man before. He’s beautiful in the mix of moon and streetlights.
“That how you want me to take your cherry, Valentine? In view of the whole city?”
“Yes,” I breathe out, padding over to him softly, sliding my body in front of his; I block his view. “If you think no one could truly see us?” I trust him in a way I’ve never trusted another soul. I know he’ll do right by me.
Wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, he drags me into his body. Sealing our mouths together, licking across my lips, nipping at them, sucking my tongue into his mouth, and making me forget my name.
My heart thunders in my chest as he swallows my moans. Dipping his other hand between my thighs, he teases me open, and his fingers probe my entrance. Gently at first, using my cream to slide their way inside, tickling my clit with his thumb. I’m putty in his hands.
Hauling himself back, Roman spins me around, pulling the straps of the gown down my arms so my chest is bare. He reaches around, plucking at my nipples and kissing along my neck.
It feels good. So good.
