Chapter 34
AMALIE
“Ithought you were staying with your brother tonight.”
I nod, my throat tight. “I guess I just couldn’t stay away.”
He smiles at me, his hand cradling the side of my face.
Something about the feeling of his big, rough hand against my cheek makes me want to close my eyes, to press myself against it.
I do just that. My eyes close, and I savor this strange blend of feelings Roman inspires in me—lust, fear, safety, and something else.
Is it love?
I don’t have much time for the thought to linger in my head before Roman seals my mouth with a kiss.
It starts out gently, probing, as if he’s testing to make sure I’m real.
Then it changes. His hand moves to the back of my neck, his fingers weaving through my hair, tilting my head exactly where he wants it.
The gentleness fades and is replaced by an intensity that kicks up my heartbeat. I open my mouth and his tongue finds mine, his taste flooding my senses. Roman growls, his hands moving to my hips. He walks me backward slowly until my shoulders press against the wall next to the fireplace.
The heat from the flames licks at my side, but his heat is more intense. He takes his mouth from mine and travels down my throat, open-mouthed kisses against my skin like he’s branding me. His teeth graze the curve where my neck ends and my shoulder begins and I gasp.
He presses his body against mine. He’s already rock-hard, his erection pressing against my belly.
His hands move to the fabric of my sweater.
He pulls it up and over my head in one smooth motion, tossing it over his shoulder.
My bra is next, unhooked with the sort of impatience that makes it clear he wants what’s underneath.
The room is warm from the fire, but the passion is enough to make my nipples harden.
“How did I almost lose you?” he says, his gaze sweeping over my body like he’s memorizing it. “Lose this.”
I blush like I always do when he talks about my body so reverently.
He effortlessly scoops me off my feet and carries me to the wide leather sofa opposite the fireplace. He sets me down on the arm and steps between my legs. With focused intensity he has me stripped in no time. I’m bare under the firelight, every curve illuminated by the flickering flames.
He drops to his knees. His mouth goes to my inner thigh first, scraping it lightly with his teeth, then soothing it with his tongue.
He moves higher, and I slip my hands into his hair as he spreads me wider, shoulders forcing my legs apart.
The first lick drives me wild, as it always does.
It’s long and slow, like he’s starving and the only thing that can satisfy him is me.
I moan, lifting my hips. He pins me down with one arm.
“I could taste you every day for the rest of my life and never get tired of it,” he says before laying another flurry of kisses against my inner thigh.
Roman’s tongue circles my clit, slow at first, then faster, relentless. Two fingers slide inside, curling just right to hit the spot. He knows my body so well, knows just how to tease me, how to take me to the edge, and just how to make me come—but only when he’s good and ready to let me.
His fingers thrust deep, mouth sucking hard, the sounds blending with the crackle of the fireplace. Pleasure coils so fast it takes me by surprise. I’m soon close to climaxing, my body trembling.
Roman feels it too. He slows, pulling back just enough to deny. I whimper. He moves up, his cock pressing against my hip as he leans in for a slow, deep kiss.
“Not yet,” he says against my lips. “You’ll come when I’m inside you.”
He stands, shedding his clothes, giving me a full view of his powerful, tattooed, and scarred body. Firelight paints the hard lines of his chest, highlighting the scars. He leans in and takes me by the hips, turning me, my hands braced on the arm, ass up.
He presses down with his hand between my shoulder blades, bending me further into a deeper arch.
His other hand guides himself to my entrance.
He doesn’t tease. One brutal thrust and he’s buried to the hilt.
The stretch is beyond comprehension, bordering pain but staying right at the perfect edge.
I cry out and he groans as my walls grip him tightly.
“There you go,” he says, one hand clenched on my hip, the other moving along my curves. “There’s the view I’d do anything to see.”
Roman pulls out then drives back into me, setting a punishing rhythm, hips slamming against my ass, skin slapping skin. Every thrust jolts through me, deep and claiming, and everything I need. His hand slides up my spine, fingers tangling in my hair, tugging my head back gently.
His mouth is at my ear. “Feel that? How fucking perfectly you take me? Every goddamn inch. You are mine Amalie. Mine.”
The words take me apart. I push back into him, meeting every thrust. I feel so greedy for him, the tightness of his grip on my side, the stretch of him within. He reaches around, pressing on my clit perfectly.
“You’ll never run again,” he says, his tone dark and sensual. “You’ll stay right here. Right where you belong.”
“Yes,” I practically sob. “I’ll never run again.”
He drives deeper, his pace almost savage. “Come for me. Now.”
The orgasm crashes over me, fierce and blinding. I clench hard around him, pulsing like crazy, my cries muffled against the cool leather. He fucks me through it, his pace relentless as he draws out every shudder.
He stays buried deep for a long moment, chest heaving against my back, the heat of him perfect. When he finally slips out, I want him back.
Greediness takes over. I move around, dropping to my knees between the sofa and Roman. He’s still hard as hell, slick with my juices. I meet his eyes, then turn my attention to his cock, wrapping my hand around the base. His jaw tightens, a low growl escaping his throat.
I lean in, tongue tracing the head, tasting salt, sex, and us. He’s sensitive, his hips jerking as I swirl my tongue around. Then I take him deeper, lips sealing tight, sucking slowly. My free hand cups him gently, rolling as I hollow my cheeks and draw back to the tip.
“Amalie,” he rasps. I can sense by the way his voice is breaking that he’s close to release.
I want him. Every goddamn drop. I hum around him, the vibration pulling out another groan. But like always, he gently guides my head away.
He doesn’t say another word before lifting me, carrying me to the massive Oriental rug in front of the fireplace, and laying me down.
The warmth bathes my skin. He brings a pillow from the couch with him, slipping it under my head.
Then he parts my thighs, his eyes lingering on my pussy, his tongue moving over his lips.
The way he wants me, craves me, does things to me that I can’t comprehend.
He slides back inside, the stretch so familiar, so damn good. Face to face, chest to chest, he fills me completely. I wrap my legs around his waist, pressing my heels into the small of his back. One of his hands cups my cheek again, his thumb grazing over my lower lip.
Roman starts to move with deep, unhurried strokes that hit every spot I need him to. His eyes are locked on mine, firelight flickering in his gorgeous green gaze. Sweat beads at his temple and I reach up to brush it away, allowing my fingertips to graze the sharp line of his jaw.
“You’re here,” he says, his voice low. “With me.”
“I am.”
His rhythm deepens, his hips rolling in a perfect grind that presses down on my clit with every push. Pleasure builds slowly, his mouth finding mine as we kiss hard but tenderly. One of his hands slides down, his palm splaying over my breast, kneading gently, his thumb circling my nipple.
The intimacy is almost overwhelming. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, but I fall into it all the same. He angles himself so he can push into me even deeper, his pace measured.
“Let me feel you,” he whispers against my lips. “All of you.”
I’m close—right there at the edge. The words rise like they’re the only words in the world I could possibly say in that moment.
“Roman, I—”
The words almost tumble out, raw and reckless. I bite my lip hard, swallowing them. But a strange look flickers in his eyes, like he knew what I was going to say. His expression softens, something fierce but tender taking hold for just a moment.
Then he kisses me harder, thrusting steadily as the wave begins to crest, my breasts bouncing underneath him, his muscles tensing and flexing.
“Come,” he commands softly. “Come with me.
The orgasm rolls in shuddering waves, softer than before, pulsing around him as tears prick my eyes. He follows a moment later, burying his face in my neck as he spills—hot, endless, raw—inside me, his hips rolling as he carries me through the climax, his warmth flooding me.
When it’s over, he doesn’t pull away. He stays inside me, arms wrapped tightly around my body.
He reaches for the throw on the chair and pulls it over us, settling me against his chest. The fire crackles low, embers glowing.
He runs his hands through my hair over and over, the sensation lulling me into a near trance.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he says. “No matter what.”
“I know.”