Chapter 23 – Braelyn #2
“The book can’t convey how it would feel if he did this.
” In one motion, he rolls us, forcing the hammock to cradle our weight even as it rocks wickedly.
Suddenly, I find myself beneath him, my head tilted back, throat exposed, the world literally turned upside down.
My e-reader is gone from my hands. It’s just him. Just us.
And he’s all over me.
“This is better than reading, I think. Less imagination required. More accurate.”
“I don’t know,” I tease. “In my experience, fiction is often better than reality.”
His smile is dangerous. “Challenge accepted. Though I might take certain artistic liberties. Any complaints?”
I shake my head, so ready for all of his artistic liberties.
“Good.” His mouth drops to mine, and he kisses me hard, his tongue swirling into my mouth.
His hand fists my hair and trickles through the curls to the ends, where he gives a rough tug that has me grinding against him.
He wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the hammock to carry me over to the couch out here.
He sits down with me straddled over him, his eyes on my face.
The sun behind our building creates weird shadows and odd light.
Feeling bold, I slip off his lap and stand before him so I can peel off my clothes piece by piece until I’m only in my bra and panties.
His gaze smolders, his hands reaching for my hips so he can bring me back to his lap.
His hard cock lines up perfectly with my pussy and I grind against him, moaning.
His hands take my wrists and lock them behind my back, forcing my tits to thrust out toward him.
The slide of his mouth moves against me, his tongue seeking contact as it swirls with mine, familiar and new and exciting.
He grunts into me as I grind down on him, needy and anxious for contact, my body remembering how he possessed it.
Twisting his head the other way, he switches his position and dives deeper, exploring every inch of my mouth.
His fingers glide under the strap of my bra before he lets it fall off one shoulder, then does the same with the other.
The cups slip lower and my nipples pop free.
He pulls away to see, smiles, and dips his head to take one in his mouth, using his hands on my wrist to angle and arch me up higher for him.
“Braelyn, you have sexy fucking underwear.”
I almost laugh. “I bought them for my wedding night along with a few other pieces.”
He grins against me and bites my nipple until I squirm in his lap. “And you felt like you wanted to wear your wedding night lingerie for me? Your new husband?”
“It made me feel bold and sexy.”
His eyes meet mine. “You are. You always have been.”
I fight my smile. I like the way he talks to me.
I like the way he looks at me. Actually, I love both because they feel natural, but I know for him, it isn’t.
Roman Fritz holds so much of himself back and only opens up, or talks even, to a select few.
He trusts no one. He’s a lot broken on the inside.
So having this side of him as mine has always felt like a treasure and now this part of him is kind of killing me in the best and worst way.
He releases my hands. “Unhook it for me.”
“Yes, sir.” I give him a cheeky wink but without hesitation, reach behind my back and unclasp my bra.
It slips from my chest and arms, and I set it down on the sofa beside us because it was expensive and I don’t want it to get dirty on the ground.
It is white after all but has delicate blue ribbons woven through the cups.
“You’re so beautiful.” He gives an incredulous head shake. “Braelyn, no one has ever affected me the way you do. You make me shake.”
My eyes close and I loop my arms around his neck so I can kiss him. His hand slides down my back over my ass and he cups my pussy from behind, rubbing over my panties and opening without fully getting to my clit. It’s delicious and frustrating all at once.
He lifts me again and sets me down on the sofa that’s deep, meant for lazy lounging by the pool, but he’s taking full advantage of this perk.
He moves to the valley between my thighs, his eyes roving over me before he presses himself down on me and devours my mouth.
His hands are all over me, playing with my tits, touching them, pinching and pulling on my nipples until I give him the desired noise he was after.
He kisses me like a man possessed. All lips and teeth and tongue.
It’s as if his control snapped, and I’m the air that’s sustaining life.
I reach for his shirt and pull it up and over his head, our mouths only breaking for that moment.
His skin is hot and still slightly damp from his shower, and I want him.
I want him like crazy. I don’t know what’s happening and what’s not.
I don’t know if this will end after five days or if it’s the start of something else.
But right now, I don’t want to stop. I want more and more and more.